War and Words: The Australian Press and the Vietnam War (Mup Academic Monograph)

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War and Words The Australian Press and the Vietnam War

Trish Payne

MELBOURNE UNIVERSITY PRESS An imprint of Melbourne University Publishing Limited 187 Grattan Street, Carlton, Victoria 3053, Australia [email protected] www.mup.com.au First published 2007 Text © Trish Payne 2007 Design and typography © Melbourne University Publishing Ltd 2007 This book is copyright. Apart from any use permitted under the Copyright Act 1968 and subsequent amendments, no part may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means or process whatsoever without the prior written permission of the publishers. Every attempt has been made to locate the copyright holders for material quoted in this book. Any person or organisation that may have been overlooked or misattributed should please contact the publishers. Designed by Phil Campbell Typeset in Utopia by J&M Typesetters Printed in Australia by the Design and Print Centre, The University of Melbourne National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry Payne, Trish. War and Words: The Australian Press and the Vietnam War Bibliography. Includes index. ISBN 9780522853261 (pbk.). ISBN 0 522 85326 9 (pbk.). 1. Vietnam War, 1961–1975 — Mass media and the war. 2. Armed Forces and mass media — Australia — History. 3. Australia — Military policy — Public opinion. I. Title.

070.4499597043 Material from The Australian, the Daily Telegraph, Courier-Mail, Advertiser and Sun Herald (Melb.) is copyright News Limited, and has been reproduced with permission. Material published in The Sun and The Herald (1968–1969) is reproduced courtesy of The Herald & Weekly Times Pty Ltd. Material without a by-line from The Age is reproduced with permission. Material from the author’s chapter ‘Reflections on Coverage of Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War’ in Damien Kingsbury, Eric Loo and Patricia Payne (eds), Foreign Devils and Other Journalists, Monash Asia Institute, Clayton, Vic., 2000 is used with permission from Monash University Press.

Courtesy of Bruce Petty.

Foreword August 2006 brought a coincidence of two events. On the one hand, the Howard Government convened a history summit, aimed at redressing both the neglect of Australian history in the school curriculum, and to restore a sense of narrative to its teaching, with the heavy implication that it is currently being taught both incompetently and with a ‘black armband’ bias. Almost simultaneously the fortieth anniversary of the Battle of Long Tan was celebrated. Fought on 18 August 1966, eighteen Australian soldiers lost their lives—the most in a single engagement by Australia in Vietnam—but a small group of 108 Australians defeated an estimated force of 2500 Viet Cong. It became an occasion to celebrate not only the bravery of those in that battle but the role of Australian servicemen in Vietnam more generally. The coincidence highlighted how politically charged the public construction of history is. It would be interesting to trace all John Howard’s comments about the Vietnam War over the last ten years, for example, and see what picture emerges. Apart from political interests, the media construction of history is guided by its own dynamics and ideas about what the audience wants. A year before the Long Tan anniversary, Dr Greg Lockhart completed a study for the Vietnam Veterans Association of Australia, which concluded that sixty Australian servicemen lost their lives because of the incompetence of how the Australian forces had laid a minefield. This includes both casualties while the minefield was being laid, and also because the Viet Cong were able to lift and relocate the mines, which subsequently killed many Australian servicemen. The report received only passing attention, much less than 1 per cent of the publicity that attended the commemoration of Long Tan. This messy and unpleasant but important story did not fit any heroic narrative. Collective memory, shaped by political interests and market acceptability, tends to be selective, at best lacking in context, and smoothing incongruities and contradictions into the now-preferred narrative, at worst distorting events for contemporary political convenience. Just as the Vietnam War produced great controversy at the time, so the history of it remains a political battlefield. Part of that contested history has involved the role of the media. For some on the

right the media’s reporting broke the will of the public and the politicians. For critics of the war, news coverage too often uncritically reflected the Government’s views. Dr Trish Payne’s admirable study is a corrective to the viewing of history through a distorting political prism in two main ways. First, unlike the severe selectivity of public history, it involves an extensive and representative survey of press coverage of the major Australian decisions. The war lasted so long and press coverage was so voluminous that isolated quotations can be found to support almost any case. It is only through systematic and thorough analysis that the more complicated and more valid picture emerges. Second, by examining in such telling detail the press coverage of the time, it achieves one of the primary tasks of all good history: it recaptures for us the world view, the hopes and fears, the expectations and the beliefs of those participating. More than thirty years after the end of the Vietnam War, and almost two decades after the end of the Cold War, it is hard for today’s generation of university students to understand the passions, or to see the world in the same way. Even between when this book begins—in 1962 with the Australian Government’s sending of advisers—to when it ends—in 1969 with the first Australian withdrawal, there was a marked change not only in the understanding of the war, but in reporting from Canberra and the nature of the parliamentary press gallery. In 1962 Australian public knowledge of and interest in Vietnam was minimal, and decisions were made that were to have lasting consequences, although some aspects of press coverage showed more caution and foreboding than the politicians. When Prime Minister Menzies committed combat troops in 1965, his dominance of the Australian political environment was intact, and even though this decision was marked by partisan conflict, press coverage was still dominated by the Government’s views. This—with the important exception of sending conscripts to the war—was still the case in 1966, when Harold Holt trebled the commitment, a decision in effect publicly ratified by his sweeping election victory later that year. In both 1965 and 1966, editorial enthusiasm for the Vietnam venture was at its height. Beyond the details of the individual case, the intensity of the news coverage and political controversy in 1968 over the ‘water torture incident’ reflected a much more broadly felt disillusion with vi

Foreword

the war and its conduct. After the Liberal Party suffered considerable setbacks in the 1969 election, Prime Minister Gorton announced the first Australian troop withdrawals. The lack of coherence in the Government’s position, and the mounting criticism of the war, both domestically and internationally, brought a marked change in the tone of press reporting and commentary. This book is a welcome and much-needed addition to the existing Australian scholarly literature on the Vietnam War. It provides a more penetrating study of Australian press coverage than any previous studies. It is conducted not only with painstaking thoroughness but with Dr Payne’s characteristic honesty and fairness to all. It is the indispensable source for all wanting to understand the Australian press during this important and still contested part of our recent history. Rod Tiffen Professor, Government and International Relations, The University of Sydney

Foreword

vii

Contents Foreword

v

Acknowledgements

x

1. Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context: The Communication Roles of the Press, Politicians and the Military

1

2.

Committing Military Advisers to South Vietnam, May 1962

27

3.

Committing a Battalion, April 1965

77

4.

Committing a Task Force, March 1966

137

5.

The ‘Water Torture Incident’, October 1966

197

6.

The Beginning of Withdrawal, December 1969

248

7.

Conclusion

295

Bibliography

320

Index

333

Acknowledgements One of the great pleasures in carrying out this study has been the time spent interviewing wonderful people whose varied responsibilities and insights kept me mindful of the impossibility of capturing the value of the individual experience. I am especially grateful for the time each person gave, their willingness to share their experiences, and the trust implicit in their sharing of these personal reflections. They have added a particularly rich vein to my consideration of themes and conclusions because in personal contact with senior politicians, bureaucrats, journalists (both in the Canberra Press Gallery and with foreign correspondents), soldiers and families of those affected by the war, I gained an appreciation of roles played by each—sometimes very public roles, always tinged with the personal influences less publicly appreciated. When doubts beckoned I found that personal material shared with me revitalised my effort. Among these I include the bound scrapbook of Creighton Burns’ reports clipped by a proud grandmother; a small book of poetry written by Michael Birch, published by a mother who lost her only son in Vietnam; the folder of Jack Fitzgerald, an Australian Army Training Team soldier in Vietnam, ‘Memories of South Vietnam’, the legacy left, after his death, to his wife and family; and a letter dear to Pat Burgess, written to him by Major Ian McFarlane, thanking him for his help during an ambush by Viet Cong in 1965. I am extremely grateful to Graeme Dobell, Foreign Affairs and Defence correspondent for ABC Radio and Radio Australia, who encouraged me to seek the publication of my PhD thesis that now forms the basis of this book. I thank him for his quietly consistent support for my research into political communication, especially research on the Canberra Press Gallery. To Rod Tiffen, Professor of Government and International Relations at The University of Sydney, I offer my profound thanks as always. I regard it as a special privilege that he supervised my PhD and has supported me continually in my academic career and research since then. I would also like to thank the staff of the Parliamentary Library, in particular, the staff of the then Media, Information, Current Awareness and Hansard (MICAH), who sustained my effort not only by granting access to their invaluable archives, but by providing an

unquestioning and supportive environment in which to complete my research. While so many in MICAH and the Parliamentary Research Unit were helpful, I particularly thank Alan Wilson, Brian Murray and Anne Holohan. I am fortunate in having a great and supportive environment at the University of Canberra and would particularly like to thank the staff of the School of Professional Communication for their collegiality and support. I especially thank Professor Warwick Blood, Dr Kerry McCallum, Kate Holland and Jennifer Kitchener. At Melbourne University Publishing, I thank Sybil Nolan, whose enthusiasm, initial comments and ongoing support are responsible for the publication of War and Words: The Australian Press and the Vietnam War. I also thank Ann Standish for her initial conversations and editorial help. Jean Kingett is an excellent editor who has an uncanny ability to identify inconsistencies and has been a very important contributor to the book’s progress towards publication, while Felicity Edge has guided the final stages of this publication with a calm and expert forbearance. The thanks I offer my family run deeper than words. Champayne, our four-legged winger ginger, was a constant companion through the long hours of research, his favourite place too close to the computer. My sisters, Naomi and Diana, were a wonderful support during the duration of my study. Though now departed, my mother and father are ever loved and thanked for being there, and especially for that I thank my dearest Stephen and Alicia. Trish Payne

Acknowledgements

xi

1

Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context: The Communication Roles of the Press, Politicians and the Military

The political essence of war is often camouflaged by public acceptance of a security necessity forced upon a government that must act in defence of its country or the values that its citizens deem worthy of national sacrifice. Australia became involved militarily in Vietnam in 1962 during a period of increasing fear about the extension of Communism in Asia and distrust of Chinese and Indonesian intentions. The need to retain an American presence in South-East Asia and maintain that country’s goodwill were the cornerstones of Australian defence and foreign policy. As America increased its military commitment in South Vietnam during the 1960s Australia, aiming to cement the alliance between America and itself, also became militarily involved.

The Blame Game American scholarship has probed the reasons for American intervention in Vietnam and the results of that intervention. The eventual withdrawal of American troops in April 1975 produced a television coverage that shocked the world. American humiliation and the hasty retreat were depicted in scenes of helicopters being dumped into the sea, with desperate but luckless Vietnamese allies left stranded on

top of the American Embassy when the final Allied helicopter was gone. Television also carried the pictures of Australian journalist Neil Davis whose camera was the only one rolling when North Vietnamese tank no. 843 smashed through the gates of the presidential palace in Saigon on 30 April 1975.1 Commenting on Davis’s decision to film this symbolic end to the Vietnam conflict, Creighton Burns, political and foreign commentator for the Age, made the following observation: There is, I suggest, a certain symbolism in the fact that foreign pressmen stayed on in conquered Saigon after foreign soldiers and foreign diplomats had left. It makes the simple but important point that for the international press it is the reporting of the winners and losers, not the backing of them that matters. It is also a demonstration of that capacity of survival which governments and politicians and generals do not possess.2 Few could deny the capacity of the press for survival. Less accepted, specifically by the military and the Government, would be Burns’ claims, not only of press bipartisanship, but also that the press were ‘more often right’ about the war. While acknowledging that there had been some ‘wildly sensational’ and ‘blandly irresponsible reporting out of Vietnam’, Burns claimed that ‘history’s calm reflection’ would prove that the ‘serious press’ were more often right about the Vietnam War than the commanders, politicians and diplomats: The politicians were, I believe, the worst and most dangerous offenders … Anyone who reported Vietnam in the 1960s can testify to the anguish of American diplomats and political advisers—and Australians, too—who could not get their political masters to listen to what they did not want to hear. Inevitably, the powerful men in Washington—and Canberra—got told … what they wanted to hear. The self deception was monumental and finally fatal.3 Gough Whitlam, Labor Prime Minister between 1972 and 1975, supports the claim that wise advice from the Australian Embassy in

War and Words: The Australian Press and the Vietnam War

Saigon was ignored by the Australian Government in the early 1960s. According to Whitlam, diplomat David Anderson’s advice was dismissed by Menzies and in 1964 Anderson was told by his department that ‘his interpretation of events in South Vietnam was defeatist, that it was not for him to advise on policy, and that the job of our mission in Saigon was not just to stand off and analyse but to pitch in and support’.4 William Hammond, commissioned by the American Army to analyse the American military and the media between 1962 and 1968, also supported Burns’ assertion, stating that President Johnson and his advisers relied too heavily on public relations: Masters of the well-placed leak, adept at manipulating the electorate, they forgot at least two common-sense rules of effective propaganda: that the truth has greater ultimate power than the most pleasing of bromides and that no amount of massaging will heal a broken limb or a fundamentally flawed strategy.5 Following the fall of Saigon in April 1975 analysts have sought reasons for Allied failure in South Vietnam. Vietnam was described as the ‘first television war’ and because war was never declared by America or Australia, formal censorship could not be easily introduced or justified. The oft-repeated phrases, the ‘first television war’ and the ‘first uncensored war’, concentrated attention on the role of the media. In fact, journalists did need to be accredited to gain transportation with the military and this accreditation, granted by Military Assistance Command Vietnam, (MACV), could be removed at the request of Vietnamese and Allied military.6 Journalists could be barred from the Australian camp, or declared ‘black’. Alan Ramsey, writing for AAP, was removed from Vietnam following the publication of his report about the shooting of a female Viet Cong soldier by Australian troops in 1965.7 Ramsey had been one of five journalists who travelled with 1st Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment (RAR), in 1965 on HMAS Sydney. He opted to stay with the Australian soldiers at their camp, which they permitted. One night he and photographer Stuart McGladrie were locked out of the camp and remained on the roadway because they did not know the password that had been issued that day.8 After his report he was banned. He observed that the Australian Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

military’s attitude was ‘You live here by our grace and favour’.9 Pat Burgess, a journalist who reported frequently from Vietnam, was also declared ‘black’ on one occasion by Australian soldiers.10 The most public attempt at official censorship of Australian reporters in Vietnam occurred in October 1968 when the Defence Minister Allen Fairhall attempted to introduce censorship guidelines, a move reported, to the apprehension of the Australian Embassy in Saigon, in the Saigon press.11 The restriction required that any Australian journalists quoting Australian soldiers had to submit their copy for approval to military officials in Vietnam. The restrictions indicated tighter control on Australian journalists than that faced by their American counterparts. A reading of debate during Question Time in Parliament and the answers offered by the Minister for Defence, Allen Fairhall, indicate the poorly thought through attempt to impose censorship. Fairhall was determined to state that it represented no change in existing policy while at the same time claiming it was only a draft.12 Burns, reporting from Vietnam at the time, was extremely hostile. He refused to ‘give the required undertaking … and in consequence … would not be going to Nui Dat’.13 A letter from the Australian Ambassador in Saigon, Ralph Harry, to the Department of External Affairs hinted at Harry’s dissatisfaction with the guidelines that could prove an embarrassment for the Australian Government in Vietnam. Harry’s letter also contained the cable sent by Burns to the Age. Under the heading, ‘Confusion in Saigon’, Burns wrote that ‘Australian military censorship situation in Vietnam has now become Gilbertian—to say the least’.14 The problem had arisen as ‘a result of Australian officers in Vietnam trying to find a means of applying regulations that were written in the Defence Department in Canberra with little apparent regard to whether they were acceptable to commanders in the field—or even workable’.15 While publicly the issue disappeared, Denis Warner, an Australian foreign and war correspondent, was ‘detained’ at Nui Dat in late 1970 while making a film of the war. ‘You will find it a great deal more difficult to leave the camp than you found it to get in to’, an Australian officer warned him.16 Warner’s response was blazing. He compared the attitude of American military public relations which sought publicity, while its Australian counterpart was being encouraged ‘towards the protection of the force from penetrating inquiry [rather] than to the revelation of facts’.17 Warner’s anger was directed


at the rules that forbade journalists the right to communicate with any Australian servicemen in Vietnam without approval, a restriction that limited but did not ‘entirely prevent information collection. They also constitute the most blatant attempt to impose censorship at source that I have ever encountered in any Army in any war at any time’.18 His warning was apt: The effect is to close the door on a truly meaningful examination of the Australian performance. Perhaps the Army feels that the public has a right to know only what it is told officially, but, if this is the policy, it is clearly short sighted.19 Personal censorship and perceived loyalties also played their part in reducing the accuracy of the term ‘uncensored’ war. Nevertheless, the lack of official censorship increased the vulnerability of journalists to the charge from politicians and the military that they influenced public opinion and Allied participation in the war by removing direct responsibility for what was reported from the military and Government. The loss of support from the ‘home front’ encouraged the cry from the military and politicians of an oppositional media. Official restrictions on the communicative role of Australia’s military in Vietnam came from Canberra. Throughout the years of Australia’s involvement in Vietnam the Government and Defence and Army public relations failed to compensate public information that they so determinedly restricted at source. A damning indictment of the Department of the Army is exposed in the history of its public relations organisation during this time. Reassessment of Army public relations must be regarded by the military as a positive result following its floundering Vietnam experience. In January 1966 the Army was concerned that it was responding to ‘civil media requests rather than adopting a positive, promotional approach to the Army and its activities’. A ‘PR Steering Committee’ had been established to encourage public relations (PR) to ‘set objectives’. The Steering Committee was to consist of ‘senior PR staff and staff from the Secretary’s Branch’. This group would be encouraged to adopt a proactive approach to public relations. There was ‘a need to improve the capability within the Army and AHQ in particular, for dealing Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

with media comments and queries’.20 The Steering Committee, although established in 1965, ‘did not meet until 10 May 1967. The basis of this meeting was to consider broadly how Army PR might be made more effective and to determine a firm composition for the Steering committee’.21 By 25 February 1969 the committee had progressed to the point where it was decided that a ‘single Steering Committee should be set up to give direction to a continuous PR program’ and that nominations be sought for the committee so that operations could begin ‘at the earliest possible date’.22 On 4 July it met to ‘discuss ways of achieving the aims of the previous meeting’. By June 1970 a report to the committee from the Secretary stated that ‘the Vietnam conflict had produced some adverse public feeling towards the Army. He considered that there was a need for a programme to be formulated outside the PR Service to achieve positive PR.’ To this end, the Secretary recommended the restructuring of the Steering Committee.23 Journalist Gerald Stone, in one of the first published Australian interpretations of the war, also attacked the communicative role of politicians. He claimed that, during 1965, important news items about Australian defence appeared in the British or American press before being released in Australia. After touring Vietnam and SouthEast Asia, the External Affairs Minister, Paul Hasluck, refused to hold a press conference with reporters who were at the airport. It is this kind of contempt for public opinion, particularly for critical opinion, that may ultimately present a graver threat to Australian democracy than anything that occurs in South Vietnam.24 While aiming to expose the deception of Australian politicians and bureaucracy in Australia’s decision to become involved, Michael Sexton emphasised the responsibility of the press in assessing the lack of informed public debate before the decision to send a battalion in 1965. Sexton’s assertion, too generally applied in terms of editorial response to 1962, nevertheless has merit: When the commitment of Australian troops was announced, it took place in an atmosphere where rational debate was


almost impossible. And no group had done more overall to make debate impossible than the Australian media.25 Political communication theorist, Rodney Tiffen, was similarly critical of the media’s role. He was succinct in linking, rather than isolating, the roles of press and politicians in the communication process: Throughout, the Australian media were more a dependent than an independent variable in the process. They were primarily creatures of the Australian political environment and shared the failures of Australian officialdom for the same reasons.26 Tiffen also stated that ‘in Australia it would be ludicrous even to raise the issue’ of an oppositional media.27 Politicians at the time sought to present another perspective. The Australian media, like its American counterpart, was accused of undermining Allied objectives in South Vietnam. Creighton Burns’ assessment of the communicative role of the military and politicians was reciprocated in their criticism of the role played by the press. This was shown in Prime Minister Gorton’s response to the death of three Australian reporters in Vietnam. On 5 May 1968, Michael Birch, a 24-year-old Australian journalist working for AAP, was gunned down as he called pleadingly, ‘Bao Chi’ (‘journalist’), to a Viet Cong commander. Birch died with three other journalists, two Australians and an English reporter, investigating a Communist offensive in Cholon.28 Frank Palmos, another Australian, escaped into the crowd of refugees. Clem Lloyd concludes his history and analysis of the Canberra Press Gallery by noting that Birch, who had briefly reported from Canberra before Vietnam, had expressed distaste, almost revulsion, for the parliamentary milieu in a terse fragment of poetry: In the present year of grace as we face annihilation Young reporter comes to Canberra Came into the House and listened

Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

Lost respect there while he listened to the men of Parliament.29 The National Liberation Front (NLF) took the unprecedented step of calling a press conference in Moscow to deny any responsibility for the killing of the Australian journalists. The NLF’s concern to limit the damage of public outcry in Australia was unwarranted. The incident did not receive prolonged coverage. When Gorton was asked in Question Time if he would investigate the claim by NLF members, he said he would not because ‘the reports that have been received here and throughout the world were certainly not from any source aligned against the front, but from a press coverage in Vietnam which if anything, does not support as it might, the efforts of Australians and others in that area’.30 Gorton’s public ridicule of the ‘loyalty’ and partisanship of Australian journalists repeated the criticism many American journalists were also receiving from the political managers of military involvement in South Vietnam. Years after the war, Gorton claimed that he did not believe that the press reports from Vietnam should always have been positive. ‘It was such a muck up, such a horribly bungled sort of war, particularly after 1969, that you couldn’t go on saying what a good war it was, because it wasn’t.’31 On 30 April 1975 the SMH castigated the Prime Minister, Gough Whitlam, for cables sent confidentially to North and South Vietnam urging them to seek an armistice. The cables had been leaked to the press and the SMH described Whitlam’s communiqué with Hanoi as not only deceitful but also aimed at giving Australian moral support to the Communists in Vietnam. In an emotional attack on Whitlam, the editorial concluded: ‘A Government which cannot be trusted, which abuses its power and its command of secrecy, forfeits its right to govern. It should be brought down.’32 Whitlam’s response to that editorial, ten years later, was to claim vindication for his public prouncements on Vietnam: The Sydney Morning Herald was one of those which helped mislead the Australian people. Whitlam generalised his criticism in an attack on the media’s inability to accurately inform the public about Communism:


The media were quite negligent. It’s very difficult to excuse them but right up to the seventies they were still giving the Australian people the impression that all the communist governments of the world agreed on everything.33 A different retrospective view was proffered by Major General John Kelly, who claimed that ‘Politics defeated us, not the enemy’.34 Kelly noted the effect on Canberra of casualty rates following the battles of Coral and Balmoral: ‘Basically we were doing a job but politically it was not acceptable’. Tied to political acceptability was public opinion. ‘I honestly think,’ asserted Kelly, ‘the Vietnam War was lost not on the battlefield but in the streets of Washington and Sydney. And the media chose to run against us.’35 Inherent in Kelly’s criticism of the Government and media was the belief that the media could exert the ultimate influence through their power over public opinion. Major General Alan Stretton, a veteran of three wars, reiterated Kelly’s concerns. Emphasising the political basis of the commitment in Vietnam, he described the soldiers’ contribution as ‘only political, the whole of Australia’s contribution in the Vietnam War is only political’. Significantly, Stretton separated the reporting by Australian journalists in Vietnam from coverage that interfered with support for Australia’s effort in Vietnam. ‘When you get journalists living with soldiers, living in an isolated sort of environment right away from Canberra, they start seeing things through the eyes of the soldiers, start reporting through the eyes of your soldiers. Our Australian press generally, the correspondents up there, were pretty favourable to it all.’36 Despite this proviso, Stretton claimed that the lessons learnt in Vietnam changed the basis of warfare: A new dimension has come into warfare and it must now be regarded as one of the ‘principles of war’. Media is just as important as any. There is no question that if any sort of combat in these modern times doesn’t have the wholehearted support of the civilian population unfortunately it is not going to be won by the West. If we go in under graduated response we are not going to win any wars in the future because of the power of the press and their influence on the people.37


After the Vietnam War, the military attempted to revise its media relationship guidelines. This determination by the Army is evident in the draft guidelines used during a military exercise in 1987. The introduction to the guidelines states: Strategic military planning flows from the Government’s requirement to achieve a political objective. Military operational planning therefore has at its base, the need to gain the selected military objectives which support the achievement of the prescribed political objective. Because Public Information (PI) activities stem essentially from the public statements of Government, relative to the issues under contention, PI policies need to be planned at the highest possible level in order to achieve the broad aim of maintaining public confidence in Government decision making during times of tension and conflict.38 The importance of the home front is indicated in the emphasis given to the need for political statements to maintain public support. While majority public support for government policy is an inherent requirement in a democratic state, the Army’s accent on the role of the media in maintaining support suggests a variable that requires control in the democratic communication process during time of conflict. ‘Media support for the Government and its direction of military strategy is therefore most important to the conduct of military operations,’ concludes the paragraph on public relations policy.39 Press manipulation of public opinion was central to American critics who sought to blame the press for American withdrawal in Vietnam. However, scholarly critics of the war were more likely to reverse that judgement. Daniel Hallin, in his authoritative study of American media and the Vietnam War, asserted that while a balance between authority and democracy is important in society, the decisions taken in the early 1960s that led to American intervention in Vietnam looked more like the result of an imbalance of ‘excessive authority’ rather than ‘excessive democracy’.40 American academics David Paletz and Robert Entman, in their examination of press and government influence on public opinion, asserted that the public ‘are more often pawns of power than independent holders of it. The media more often expedite than frustrate the control of the elites as 10


a class over the rest of society’s political ideas.’41 Australia’s reporting of Vietnam policy during the vital years of becoming involved and during the years of escalation, with the exception of the Australian for the most part, confirmed this contention. This study of Australian newspaper coverage revealed the lack of balance between political and military objectives in Vietnam. The want of a military goal that could determine success and failure for the Australian military in Vietnam became an increasingly important focus after the war, accentuated by the right of those involved to finally speak. During the early years of escalation individual papers spasmodically questioned and warned of the dangers of using Australian forces as a political ‘token’. Detailed examination of the newspapers studied indicates that the quality of reporting and commentary fluctuated. Individual papers raised vital considerations, exposed political expediency, and presented arguments against accepted generalisations about the war and Allied involvement. However, the intermittent nature of such questioning too often reduced its impact. So too did the overwhelming acceptance in newspaper coverage in the early years of the Government arguments for involvement, the fear of encroaching Communism, and the fear of isolation as Britain gradually withdrew from South-East Asia. Both fears strengthened Australia’s perceived need for a strong American alliance. The American alliance helped to emphasise the importance of domestic politics as a defining base of Australian commentary and assessment of newsworthiness on Australia’s involvement. Paletz and Entman assert that ‘In the main, foreign news reporting helps the powerful mobilise public opinion (or quiescence) behind the basic goals of policies on which most Americans have little information and less control’.42 To an extent, as an ally of America, Australia could be removed from mainstream Vietnam policy analysis if it believed that the American alliance was the most important factor in its decision to become militarily involved in Vietnam. A central theme of this book concerns Rod Tiffen’s assertion that: Australia took its cue from American positions, and conformity with America was the primary political test of a policy. The role of the junior ally permitted the luxury of Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

11

embracing alliance policies without the need to evaluate independently their costs and prospects. This had a pervasive and pernicious effect on the government’s policy making, and by extension, had a debilitating impact on news coverage and commentary.43 There are conflicting views within Australia about the role the press played, or should have played, during the period of Australia’s involvement in Vietnam. Just as significant as the foreign context into which reporting is forced during periods of conflict, is its domestic context.

The Domestic Political Reporting Environment in Canberra in the Early 1960s Reporting involves an understanding of newsworthiness that places the words and actions of key political sources, specifically those of the Prime Minister, prominently on news pages. The quality of information conveyed to the reader will depend not only on the journalist’s level of specialisation, but also on the quality of the reporter’s source. Also important is the reader’s level of understanding of, and interest in, the information being reported because these factors can influence comprehension and interpretation of newspaper content. The complexity of reporting during the time of crisis is increased by perceived levels of ‘loyalty’ which can help to accentuate government support in reporting. In 1962 this was exemplified by the willingness of editors to raise pertinent arguments for consideration before the decision to send advisers was finalised, while the editorials were more hesitant to criticise once the Government decided to escalate commitment in 1965. Before analysing the level of independence from Government in Australian coverage during the war years it is essential to understand the political reporting environment in Canberra at the time the Australian Government committed advisers. The political environment in May 1962 was very different from the environment in which Australia would begin withdrawing less then a decade later. The Liberal–Country Party coalition under Prime Minister Robert Menzies had been in control of government since 1949 although a challenge to this dominance had been offered in the elections of December 1961.44 The experience that Menzies brought to political control over public information about Australian policy decisions was immense and is well summarised in the assessment 12


made by academic Clem Lloyd, whose insight is strengthened by his experience as a press gallery journalist: The long Menzies reign as Prime Minister from 1949 to 1965 transformed the traditional balance of relationships between parliament, executive government and the press. Menzies established an ascendancy over the Gallery as absolute and as assured as his dominance of parliament, ministry, party and electorate … the overwhelming effect of the long Menzies hegemony on political journalism was one of pervasive enervation.45 Sir John Bunting, Menzies’ ‘prince of public servants’,46 also raises valuable insights into Menzies’ attitude to the press. He claims that to state that Menzies ‘disliked’ the press would be an ‘understatement’, ‘mainly it was contempt on each side, he for the gallery and the gallery for him’.47 Bunting did not criticise or condone Menzies’ attitude to the press. He believed that Menzies had ‘decided he would not be mesmerised by daily headlines, that he did not need the support of the press and that he would not hand over the management of affairs to the critics’. Menzies had warned American President, Lyndon Johnson, ‘Don’t be too sensitive about what these fellows write about you. They weren’t elected to do anything—you were. They speak only for themselves—you speak for the people’. 48 This philosophy provided Menzies with a moral basis that could limit his perspective on the right of the public to be informed. As endorsed leader he could speak ‘for the people’, at least until the next election. Bruce Grant, a respected reporter and commentator for the Age, lamented the lack of respect Menzies had for newspaper comment: Menzies did not intend to be told what to do by newspapers and his political authority was such that he could generally override press criticism. Although his favourite newspaper was the Age he seldom took any notice of it, so it seemed to someone who wrote many of the Age editorials on foreign affairs in the 1950’s and who has offered concealed advice from several parts of the world as a foreign correspondent.49 Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

13

Grant’s comment on Menzies also suggests his perception of his own politically influential role, although it is noteworthy that he described some of his advice as ‘concealed’. His assertion also indicates that at times his commentary would be directed at the initiated rather than at a wider readership. The role of specialist reporters—foreign, war and political—is differentiated in this study to reveal the importance of the varied perspectives of each and the prominence of each in newspaper coverage. The political journalist in the Canberra Press Gallery emerges as a powerful specialist journalist in the reporting of foreign policy because of the likelihood that statements made by the Prime Minister would be granted page one coverage. This is not to negate the powerful voice of logic so necessary from the foreign correspondents who understood better than most Australians, including Australian political leaders, the impact of policy on other countries involved and their people. In the case of Vietnam, this expertise was overlooked by political certainties embraced in the need for the American alliance and the moral judgement that the Government asserted and the press reiterated that Americans could not die in Asia protecting Australian security without Australian military support. The progressive growth and movement of Australia’s bureaucracy during the 1960s resulted in a new and larger concentration of specialist journalists in Canberra. While essential in terms of balancing a geographical change of a vital area of power, this concentration also removed specialist journalists to a politically narrow environment. Ranald Macdonald, former editor of the Age, in an address to the National Press Club in 1977 entitled ‘Canberra Syndrome’, spoke of the ‘inevitable danger which members of the Canberra Press Gallery faced because they were geographically and professionally isolated from the daily preoccupations of life in Australia’s cities and country towns. There was a danger … that the gallery would begin to see Canberra and its activities as the centre of the universe.’50 These and other aspects influencing the quality of response from Canberra reporters at the beginning of Australia’s commitment in 1962 were also highlighted in an address delivered by John Bennetts, Canberra reporter for the Age, in October 1962.51 Bennetts discussed the role of the political journalist and the limitations on the Canberra Press Gallery coverage at that time. Despite the fact that the outlets for political coverage had doubled in a few years 14


the number of journalists covering the news from Canberra for Australian dailies had not. In 1962 Bennetts asserted that the increased opportunities for quality coverage were denied because of the impossible workload of Canberra-based journalists. While investigative journalism was vital to uncovering and reporting information not freely given by government, the time required to develop avenues to produce it was difficult to find. At the same time, Bennetts observed, the Government was steadily establishing greater selective control over what was published: On the whole the public interest is fairly well served by the balance that is struck between secrecy and publicity—but there are indications that the balance is shifting towards more rather than less secrecy and this is, on the whole, bad for our kind of democracy. I believe it is bad because it means that the politicians and officials are being exposed less and less to public scrutiny and criticism which encourages efficiency in government. This is happening for two reasons—one is that the government is undoubtedly tightening its controls over the release of information; the other is that the press is failing to exploit the opportunities which exist for obtaining information the public should have.52 Canberra bureaux were too small to ‘permit much specialisation’, claimed Bennetts,53 a point reiterated by Wallace Brown, who began reporting in Canberra in late 1961 for the Courier-Mail. As a small bureau, Brown states that they relied ‘much more heavily then on the agency [AAP]’,54 for basic information. Bennetts also believed that press credibility and quality communication between journalist and politician depended upon politicians and officials being able to rely on their information being understood and not misinterpreted. According to Bennetts specialist journalists were essential to remove ‘the basic suspicion of the press’ among politicians and officials.55 He argued that the gallery ‘had insufficient senior and experienced journalists in Canberra to clarify the great political questions’.56 Specialist journalists develop an appreciation of the role and policy of those they report upon, so necessary for meaningful reporting. The value of Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

15

the development often occurs simultaneously with an identity to the specialist area and this can negate the ability of specialist journalists to acknowledge loyalties that result in control, self and otherwise imposed. While Bennetts argued for specialisation in Canberra, he also understood the dangers: The correspondent knows he must get close to the news sources in order to do his job, yet he knows he must not get too close or he may be inhibited in reporting the truth if it is embarrassing to his particular political or official contacts.57 Brown described the early 1960s in the press gallery as ‘pre T.V. … the print media were the dominant sole force’. According to Brown, who did not want for experience, it was also a male-dominated environment, ‘a little hard core of men’. This core was represented by ‘a few very distinguished and long term journalists in Canberra then, Harold Cox from the Melbourne Herald, Ian Fitchett, S.M.H., John Bennetts, Age, [Alan] Reid [Daily Telegraph]. Suddenly I was flung into this pool of long time experts.’58 While Bennetts may have limited his definition of ‘specialists’ he acknowledged that the Canberra correspondent was emerging as a special breed of journalist: In recent years senior men have been playing a game of musical chairs around the Canberra news bureaus. The top jobs in the press gallery now are nearly all men who are over forty-five and have been in Canberra fifteen years or longer, and have worked for two or more newspapers.59

Australia’s Foreign Reporters Interest in the international response to Allied intervention in Vietnam fluctuated and variations of perspective often resulted from the reliance of individual papers on either generalised agency reports, specialised comment, or both. No Australian newspaper retained a reporter in Vietnam for the duration of Australia’s participation in the Vietnam War. This commitment came at a time when major metropolitan newspapers were just beginning to re-assess their foreign news coverage. Improved, more immediate access to overseas news in the early 1960s was a significant development for newspapers in 16


Australia, but one to which they had barely adjusted when Australia’s military commitment was dramatically increased in 1965. War reporter, Pat Burgess, initially covering the war in Vietnam for Fairfax in 1965, claimed that his employers ‘didn’t want news, they were going to rely on the agency for news … they only wanted airmailers … a feature type story’.60 While an increase in available overseas material encouraged newspapers to report foreign news and perspectives, its initial effect was to blind newspaper executives in Australia to the need for an Australian input. Cost was an obvious consideration, but the lack of news written from Vietnam by Australian reporters employed by Australian newspapers, despite the constraints mentioned, was a major weakness in Australian reporting of the war. Weighed against this criticism is the calibre of individual foreign correspondents reporting from South-East Asia during the years of involvement. Correspondents such as Bruce Grant, Creighton Burns and later, Michael Richardson for the Age; John Williams, expelled from Saigon in November 1960 for critical reporting of the Diem regime,61 reporting for the Herald from Singapore; and Richard Hughes, an Australian correspondent who reported from Hong Kong, proved the value of specialist reporters who had spent considerable time in the areas they reported about. The ill-will that Wilfred Burchett had earnt in Australia during the reporting of the Korean War had not dissipated. Despite his impeccable credentials to understand the aspirations of the Communists in Vietnam, his copy, regarded as propaganda, was ignored by the Australian dailies. Burchett defended the perspective of his writings and films. He believed he was ‘free of any built-in loyalties to governments, parties or any organisations whatsoever. My loyalty was to my own convictions and my readers … This was particularly so during my reporting from Vietnam, the most important of my career, far too important to be swayed by dictates from outside or above.’62 The most widely and consistently published foreign correspondent during the Vietnam War years was Denis Warner. It is important to briefly discuss Warner’s background as his copy was published in virtually every Australian daily studied and the Courier-Mail, Advertiser, West Australian and Herald often carried the same report. As Warner was paid a retainer by the Herald it was usually this paper that carried his reports first. His reports were often also published in Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

17

the SMH and Daily Telegraph. He also wrote for the London Daily Telegraph, the Reporter, the Atlantic Monthly and Look magazines.63 In reporting on South-East Asia, Warner was expounding on a subject that had been part of his working career since World War II. When he wrote of ‘this sort of war’, and reminded readers of the French ‘humiliation’64, he was placing Australia’s consideration of intervention in South Vietnam in the context of his personal experience of Vietnam. He had witnessed the French withdrawal from Hanoi in October 1954 and it had left an indelible impression. The pessimism he expressed about Communism in his article on 7 May was an expression of other long-held views. In Out of the Gun, published in 1956, Warner had written: ‘I know Asia can be saved. I know also that it is being lost’.65 The unquestioning belief that Communism had no possible place in the betterment of life for any race on earth appeared to be the baseline from which he reported. His loss of faith in SEATO as a security against the spread of Communism in Asia was well documented in this book and summarised in the following comment. ‘If South Vietnam falls, if the communists succeed in Indonesia … if SEATO continues to mewl and puke while South East Asia crumbles, then there is no hope.’66 David Halberstam, a noted American journalist, also understood the significance of Asian history for those reporting from Vietnam and expressed his frustration with the inability of news to convey the complexity of Vietnam realities in the 1960s. The problem was trying to cover something everyday as news when in fact the real key was that it was all derivative of the French Indo-China war, which is history … to an incredible degree in Vietnam I think we were haunted and indeed imprisoned by the past.67 Warner’s experience as an Asian correspondent added much to the depth of his reporting but in a different and very real sense Warner was also imprisoned by his past. His search for a Dien Bien Phu in 1968 was as much an example of this as his attitude to Communism. His consistent interest in writing from and about South-East Asia had allowed him to establish valuable and knowledgeable contacts in Australia, Asia and America and his copy made a significant contribution to Australia’s press coverage of the war and its complexities. 18


At the Second Summer School of Professional Journalism in Canberra in February 1966 Macmahon Ball, from the Department of Political Science at Melbourne University, stated that ‘every Australian seriously interested in contemporary Asia’ owed Warner a debt that he hoped would ‘long continue’.68 Bruce Grant, another South-East Asian correspondent, addressing the same conference, described Warner as ‘a skilful and courageous professional’.69 And, despite its ambiguity, the comment by Pat Burgess, that sometimes ‘watching Denis I formed the impression he really belonged back in the French war or W.W.II where correspondents were strictly accredited and disciplined. Not in the free-for-all that Vietnam became … ’70 also deserves reflection. To an extent, this comment highlights the different perceptions of the role of Australian reporters in Vietnam. Burgess’s orientation was to the role of war correspondent. ‘The war reporter might well be wrong to write from “his own little world”. But what other vantage point is there? The broad picture, the forecasts, the critiques of military tactics and political manoeuvring can best be written from the nearest safe capital, and usually is.’71 Warner was both a war reporter and foreign correspondent. Assessment of his coverage of the Vietnam conflict came from Warner himself. ‘I think,’ said Warner, ‘the Vietnam War ended me as a journalist in Australia’. In April 1985, the tenth anniversary of the fall of Saigon, the Herald rejected the article supplied by its most prominent and informed reporter of the Vietnam years. ‘I think they, in some way, held me guilty. I think they regarded me as having misled them over Vietnam … I don’t know … I am sure Vietnam is the basis of it.’72 The Vietnamese perspective, so rarely sought or appreciated, relied heavily on the value newspapers placed on reports from specialist journalists in Asia. Such reports vied not only with agency reports and syndicated American commentary, but also with the political news from Canberra and the political interpretation of what was important in Vietnam-related news. Vietnam-related reporting from Canberra was intrinsically linked with the political changes in Australia during the 1960s. The most obvious change was the decline of the dominance of the Liberal– Country Party and the acceptance of the Labor Party as a legitimate opposition. Although this acceptance owed much to the change in American policy it led to more balanced coverage of Australia’s involvement in Vietnam. As Australia’s defence and foreign policy Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

19

became increasingly less certain, press commentary became more confident and less inhibited by ‘loyalty’. In 1969 the tone of the address given by Bruce Grant exemplified an assertive attitude about the press and the perception of its role in reporting foreign policy: I have been saying that there has been a breakdown in the former assumptions, the conventional wisdom, which used to govern discussion of foreign affairs in Australia. The role of the press in these circumstances is not to feed on the discomfiture of officialdom but to take part in the forging of new policies. Just as it is no longer sufficient for Australian Governments to consider diplomacy as the art of being consulted before rather than after the event, so it’s not sufficient for the Australian press to complain after policy has been decided. It must be informed and alert about developments in foreign policy before they reach the point of decision.73 The Australian Press and the Vietnam War sets out to examine the role of the Australian press during the Vietnam War, by looking at press coverage of the four most pivotal Australian policy decisions and the major domestic controversy during Australia’s participation in the Vietnam War. It analyses the decision to send Australian advisers in 1962, and the two major escalation decisions that followed: the commitment of a battalion in 1965 and a task force in 1966. It then investigates the major public controversy that developed in 1968 over the alleged torture by an Australian interrogator of a female prisoner in Vietnam in 1966. A final case study examines press coverage of Australia’s first official announcement in 1969 that it would withdraw its military commitment from Vietnam. Each of these events forms the substantial chapters in chronological order. The first Australian military commitment to the war—the sending of advisers in 1962—caught the press and the Australian community largely unprepared. At that time press challenge to the Government’s commitment was limited to editorial comment that failed to incite public or political interest. Although pertinent questions were asked in editorials they were muted by press acceptance of the need for support for the American alliance. Chapter 2 explores the influence on reporting of policy development when 20


public ignorance and lack of interest in Vietnam allowed a carefully orchestrated American and Australian Government agenda to dominate the news pages. This permitted undebated policy that initiated Australia’s military commitment in Vietnam. Chapter 3 illustrates the continuing skill of press manipulation of Prime Minister Menzies to time his announcement of the sending of a battalion just as Parliament was rising for an extended weekend. Menzies had conditioned the public to a change in policy in an exchange with religious critics of the war, published in the newspapers immediately preceding the commitment. Increased interest and response by the Opposition and public were registered in news coverage of the decision but the arguments from both, including cautionary comment from key Australian foreign correspondents, was weakened by the first decision of involvement that bound deliberation on escalation to a moral argument. That argument demanded continuation of support for Australia’s American ally in its determination to contain Communism in Vietnam, an objective that the Government, supported by the majority of the press, publicly deemed vital to Australia’s national security. Chapter 4 analyses newspaper coverage of the Government’s decision to send a task force to Vietnam. In 1966 newly installed Liberal Prime Minister, Harold Holt, announced this major escalation in his first speech at the beginning of the Parliamentary sitting. Misreading the propensity for intense opposition to the decision, the Government floundered under the Opposition and public pressure and press demands for Holt to regain the initiative. In 1966 the emotional response to the announcement that conscripts would be sent to Vietnam, particularly in Parliament, overshadowed scrutiny of the major decision: escalation. While recognising this factor, the press failed to balance debate and, in fact, encouraged the Government to strengthen its case for involvement. In the reporting of the water torture incident in 1968, discussed in Chapter 5, the dominance of the political environment further accentuated the potential that politicians have to set the agenda but it also evidenced an increasingly impatient attitude with Government handling of Vietnam issues. Chapter 6 examines the reporting of the beginning of withdrawal of Australia from Vietnam by Liberal Prime Minister John Gorton’s government. By 1969, with the evident uncertainty in American policy in Vietnam and an increasing press sympathy with the direction of Labor policy by Whitlam, a more Placing Australia’s Involvement in the Vietnam War in Context

21

critical and balanced press commentary was finally achieved. When the Government became less able to articulate an agenda the press seemed able to challenge involvement more effectively. This was evidenced in 1969 in the confidence of selected commentators, such as Bruce Grant and Creighton Burns, and in the clarity of their published perspectives. The uncertainty of Vietnam policy direction of the Australian and American governments expressed in news reports buttressed bold commentary and supported a growing press challenge to military involvement in Vietnam. Chapter 7 draws together these themes and conclusions of the study: the influence of political sources on newspaper communication of the war, the limited parameters of the reporting of the war, the American alliance; and the moral argument that had been accepted even by those in the press who opposed Australia’s initial commitment of advisers in 1962. Throughout all these crucial developments the country to which Australia was sending troops, Vietnam, too often remained a phantom presence, an abstraction to which the differing sides attached their own symbolism and whose complexities were largely ignored. This was despite excellent reporting from specialist Australian foreign reporters whose reports lost prominence in the politically dominated news coverage from Canberra. While the environment of 1969 sustained press freedom and allowed effective criticism of Australia’s Vietnam policy, in 1962 the effectiveness of the press challenge that was offered to military involvement was negated by its irrelevance to the majority view. The decision to focus upon these four major policy decisions and a major domestic controversy came about through detailed analysis of a selection of metropolitan daily newspapers: the Advertiser (Adelaide), Herald (Melbourne), West Australian, Courier-Mail, all Herald and Weekly Times publications; Sydney Morning Herald (SMH) (Fairfax), Canberra Times (Shakespeare-Fairfax), Age (Syme, Fairfax), Australian (Murdoch) and Daily Telegraph (Packer). The Herald, although an evening paper, was included, not only because it employed Denis Warner, but also because it was regarded as the ‘flagship’ of the Herald and Weekly Times Group. This allowed comparison and assessment of the public information available in the press across Australia during the period of Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam War. After extensive study of the the Australian press coverage, case studies were chosen as the means of examining aspects of Australian 22


reporting because they highlighted the complexity of the varied perspectives, as well as revealing the difficulty of establishing dominant issues and whether or not there was consistency in the reporting. Detailed examination was necessary. Generalisations about ‘the press’ pose the greatest danger to understanding its role. Nevertheless, themes and repetition of source use and news priorities did allow ready identification of similarities in the newspapers studied. A content analysis was used for each of the chapters examining the policy decisions. This database recorded every mention of Vietnam during the period of reporting for each policy decision. This included domestic and international, under the headings editorial, news reports, commentary, feature articles, cartoons, photographs, letters to the editor, front-page leads, page numbers of reports, number of paragraphs, when and where reported and by what agency or reporter if content analysis provides a systematic record that allowed assessment and comparison of news coverage in Australian dailies studied. By investigating the totality of coverage the significance of differences between information conveyed within a paper, and comparisons between papers, can be evaluated. This data is not presented in this publication, though some references to the data analysis are included.74 This data provided a substantial starting point for the study, particularly in establishing prominence of reports and the sources related to this prominence. The key qualitative research methods used included a combination of textual and discourse analysis of newspaper content, documentary study and selected interviews with journalists, soldiers, politicians, military and civilians that allowed the meanings and significance of the communication of Australian newspapers to be more comprehensively understood.

Notes 1 2

3 4

5

6 7

Bowden, One Crowded Hour: Neil Davis Combat Cameraman, pp. 335–46. C. Burns, ‘Truth, the war casualty that haunted politicians’, Age, 3 May 1975, p. 13. (The later edition headline read: ‘It’s the politicians who make truth a war casualty’.) ibid. ‘A waste of effort and life’, SMH, 30 April 1985, 10th Anniversary Lift-out, ‘The Vietnam Experience’, p. 7. Hammond, The U.S. Army in Vietnam, Public Affairs: The Military and the Media, 1962–1968, p. 388. See, for example, Lunn, Vietnam: A Reporter’s War, p. 6. For example, ‘Australian tells: How I shot Vietcong’, SMH, 12 August 1965.


23

8 9 10 11

12 13

14

15 16 17

18

19 20

21 22 23

24 25 26 27 28

29

30 31 32 33

34

24

A. Ramsey, Interview with author. ibid. Bowden, Inside Stories. Australian Embassy, Saigon, ‘Press and Visitors to Vietnam’, CRS A4531 Correspondence files. CPD, HR 60, 8 October 1968, pp. 1632, 1933–4. Australian Embassy, ‘Saigon, Press and Visitors to Vietnam’, CRS A4531, Correspondence files. Brian Peck, from the ABC, and John Mancy of AAP also refused to abide by the requirement. ibid., letter from the Ambassador, Ralph Harry, to Department of External Affairs, 4 October 1968. ibid. D. Warner, Interview with author. D. Warner, ‘Australia’s role in Vietnam-1, Army’s “bamboo screen” on the task force’, Courier-Mail, 6 January 1971, p. 2. ibid. Warner supported his statement: ‘This … includes World War II, the Korean War, the Indo-China War, the Vietnam War, the wars in Laos and Cambodia, the Malaysian Emergence, Confrontation, the Colonels’ Revolt in Indonesia, the September 30 incident and some sundry other revolts and upheavals over the past quarter of a century.’ ibid. ‘History of the Army public relations service’, Annex C to A85-4178(1), no. 24, 31 August 1985. ibid., no. 25. ibid., no. 26. ibid., no. 30. The ‘first report of the PR Steering Committee was presented to the Board on 21 December 70’ (no. 32). This report was Submission no. 104/1970. The conclusions drawn in the report indicated that public relations in the mid-1960s had lacked organisation and direction but noted that the ‘Secretary took positive steps to rectify the matter by establishing the PR Steering Committee (paragraph 24)’ (no. 44, b). Stone, War without Honour, pp. 152–3. Sexton, War for the Asking, p. 135. Tiffen, ‘The War the Media Lost’, p. 125. ibid., p. 137. Bruce Piggott and John Cantwell were also killed, along with English journalist Ron Laramy. Australian journalist Frank Palmos, also in the jeep when it was attacked, escaped. For his account of the incident, and his journey back to confront his foe after the war, see Palmos, Ridding the Devils. Lloyd, Parliament and Press, p. 268. Poem, ‘Men of Parliament’, quoted from Michael Birch Papers, National Library of Australia, Manuscript 2361. CPD, HR 59, 15 May 1968, p. 1433. Sir John Gorton, Interview with author. ‘A government we cannot trust’, SMH, 30 April 1975, editorial, p. 2. Patrick Walters, ‘The Prime Minister, “A waste of effort” ’, SMH, 30 April 1985, 10th Anniversary Lift-out, ‘The Vietnam Experience’, p. 7. Major General Kelly commanded an artillery regiment in Vietnam from March 1968.


35

36

37 38

39 40 41 42 43 44

45 46

47 48

49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58

59 60 61

62 63

M. Brown, ‘The Commander, “Politics defeated us, not the enemy” ’, SMH, 30 April 1985, 10th Anniversary Lift-out, ‘The Vietnam Experience’, p. 7. Major General A. Stretton, Interview with author. This view was supported in other interviews, for example, those with Lieutentant General Sir Thomas Daly; Major Ian McFarlane; and journalist Pat Burgess. Major General A. Stretton, Interview with author. Draft, ‘Defence Public Information Policy during Periods of Tension and Conflict’, issued for use during Exercise Valiant Usher, 1987, under the Authority of Director of Public Information, Headquarters Australian Defence Force, 1 September 1987. Introduction, 2.8, p. 8. ibid., 2.9, p. 8. Hallin, The ‘Uncensored War’, p. 215. Paletz and Entman, Media, Power, Politics, p. 195. ibid., p. 233. Tiffen, ‘The War the Media Lost’, p. 121. This election centred on domestic economic issues rather than foreign affairs and defence. Lloyd, Parliament and Press, p. 174. Sir John Bunting was Secretary to Cabinet for sixteen years, and Secretary to the Prime Minister’s Department for fourteen years. Under Sir Robert Menzies he served in both capacities from 1959 to 1966. Bunting, R. G. Menzies: A Portrait, p. 61. ibid. Bunting was quoting from Richard Nixon’s memories of Menzies. Nixon’s other comment was that Menzies ‘treated the press with marked contempt and remarkable success’. Claiming to often puzzle about Menzies’ attitude to the press, Bunting, through comparison with later years, noted ‘I feel it is fortunate for him … that the present television, radio and newspaper focus on politics and politicians was unknown in his time’ (p. 62). Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, p. 6. Macdonald, ‘The Dangers of “Dailiness” ’, p. 9. Bennetts, ‘Press, Parliament and Public Interest’. ibid., p. 4. ibid., p. 9. W. Brown, Interview with author. Bennetts, ‘Press, Parliament and Public Interest’, p. 9. ibid., p. 14. ibid., p. 4. W. Brown, Interview with author. Alan Reid was political correspondent for the DailyTelegraph in Sydney. Bennetts, ‘Press, Parliament and Public Interest’, p. 16. P. Burgess, Interview with author. The initial response from the Government and communiqués between Saigon and Canberra are an important source of political attitudes to overseas reporting at this time. Australian Embassy, ‘Saigon, Press and Visitors to Vietnam’, CRS A4531 Correspondence files. Burchett, At the Barricades, p. 328. For a more extensive history of his career, see Warner, Wake Me if There’s Trouble.


25

64 65 66 67

68 69

70 71 72

73 74

26

ibid. Warner, Out of the Gun, p. 232. ibid., p. 217. Halberstam quoted in P. Knightly, The First Casualty, p. 423. It is an oftenquoted remark; see also Tiffen, ‘News Coverage of Vietnam’, p. 168. Ball, ‘Foreign News and the Australian Community’, p. 15. Grant, ‘The Role of the Foreign Correspondent’, p. 58. At this stage Grant was at The University of Melbourne. Burgess, Warco, p. 45. ibid., p. 128. D. Warner, Interview with author. For more information on Warner’s perspective, see Warner, Not with Guns Alone, pp. 181–2. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, p. 19. This data can be viewed in Payne, ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War: An Analysis of Policy and Controversy, 1962–1969’, vol. 2.


2

Committing Military Advisers to South Vietnam, May 1962

On 24 May 1962 the Minister for Defence, Athol Townley, announced in a press release that Australia would send twenty-five military advisers to South Vietnam.1 The impetus for this public release of information was the ANZUS conference held in Canberra on 8 and 9 May, and attended by the American Secretary of State, Dean Rusk. A few informed journalists foreshadowed that a Government announcement on Vietnam would come during the conference. Rusk aided press concentration on two central justifications for Australian intervention: lending America a ‘helping hand’ in Vietnam and the aggressive nature of Communism. The Prime Minister’s control over the release of this information to the public was evident in this decision, which camouflaged the continued acceptance of American nuclear testing in the Pacific and the establishment of an American radio communications base at North West Cape. News of the decision was itself overshadowed by headline news reports on the intensity of the conflict in Laos and the political attempts to confirm SEATO solidarity in the sending of military aid to Thailand. Information about the decision was made to a public lacking an informed basis from which to respond. This factor increased the Government’s power to control the release of information and effectively frame the public messages in terms of South Vietnam

requiring aid. A ‘watchdog’ press is vital to balance ease of agendasetting in such an environment. The first commitment to South Vietnam showed subservience to the Government’s news agenda. Official sources decided when the information would be ‘leaked’ or communicated during press conferences. The media carried this information in front-page news reports. The prominent coverage official statements received was as much a result of who made the statement as it was the new element of the important decision being made public. The news value of prominence—specifically the press concentration on elite sources, such as the Prime Minister and the American Secretary of State—allowed for political control of the mediated messages on Australia’s new direction in Vietnam. With a few minor exceptions noted below, only editorials and foreign correspondents offered any serious reflection in the press on the public information being carefully manipulated by the Government. Salient considerations of Australia’s decision to commit advisers were raised in some editorials, some commentary from a few press gallery journalists, and in the copy of specialist foreign correspondents. However, these articles were scattered and failed to make an impact against the consistent reiteration in all areas of coverage of the need to strengthen the American alliance and the fear of encroaching Communism. Communication theorist Daniel Hallin, in his study of Vietnam reporting in the New York Times, concluded that it was the practice of ‘objective journalism’ that influenced American coverage of government and officials in the early 1960s.2 The definition of ‘objective journalism’ during this period was the reporting of ‘the contents of official documents, or statements delivered by official spokesmen … Objective journalism preserved, with five columns of accompanying text, the official record.’3 Hallin asserted: Objective journalism protected the administration: the lead stories focused on the public statements of top officials and were written ‘straight,’ as though the reporters knew nothing of the information inside the paper.4 The Government dominated the news pages of the metropolitan dailies but editorials did not always reflect the content of news reports, being written mostly by Canberra-based political correspondents who were also contributing by-lined comment and reports. 28


Editorial questioning of the Government at this time was significant because it revealed that when there was little other assessment of Government policy, editorialists raised more pertinent issues about Australia’s first commitment than they were to do later as Australia’s involvement in the war escalated and others within the community became vocal. Editorial response, dominated by the Age, the CourierMail and the Herald,5 accounted for 21 per cent of the total number of reports in the nine papers studied.6 The issues questioned, and the intensity of that questioning, varied between papers. Sir Garfield Barwick, then Minister for External Affairs, believed that foreign policy in a democracy must ‘always be broadly in accord with the popular will’.7 In qualifying this statement he asserted that this factor did not reduce the Government’s ability to lead in foreign policy, reaching out ‘in the national interest beyond what the electorate, with its necessarily smaller amount of relevant information, comprehends or will unquestioningly accept’.8 Unquestioning acceptance, as the study of newspaper reporting shows, is directly linked to public access to amounts of ‘relevant information’. Public trust in the integrity and competence of the Government leadership would, according to Barwick, ‘help to bridge the gap between acceptance of the policy, and the steps taken in carrying it out, and the lack of full contemporary information in the hands of the electorate’.9 This was an important qualification. The significant repercussions of this, in the context of Government control of information on Vietnam policy, were well stated in 1968 by (later Sir) Alan Watt, an experienced Australian diplomat and academic: Governments which choose to ignore, or not to disclose information tending to raise doubts as to the wisdom of the policy they pursue risk creating a credibility gap likely to persist when they adduce facts and arguments which constitute acceptable evidence in support of a policy.10 Returning to emphasise his first contention, Barwick adopted a more publicly acceptable political line and conceded that: foreign policy will be more effective and stable if it enjoys public support based on an informed and educated, and indeed a questioning, public opinion.11 Committing Military Advisers

29

Barwick claimed that electors in a democracy can oust a government whose policies they do not accept.12 The return of the Liberal Government in 1963 with an increased majority, using Barwick’s limited definition of the evidence of public support for policy, would justify Australia’s increasing military involvement in South Vietnam. An uninformed public endorsement of official policy is a politician’s most prized weapon, one which they wield against opposition in Parliament and in the community.13 Its most successful use is against the people who through the democratic process create it. It is in trying to bend or break this defence that the press can play its vital role in the communication process. A study of the first release of public information on the decision to commit Australian military aid to South Vietnam illustrates the limitations of the press in performing that role when politicians choose to manoeuvre without public debate. Other factors also reduce press effectiveness in this role and the evident one in May 1962 was the lack of a public awareness, interest or understanding of the background to developments in South-East Asia. Newspapers reported the Government’s public justification for the decision and indicated the American context of that decision. The importance of a ‘request’ from South Vietnam was always officially espoused but reporting of the release of information from Government and official sources clearly indicated the self-interested motivation of Australia behind its military commitment. The fear that if Vietnam became Communist it would be the first country in a line, initiating a toppling effect on other countries, like dominoes, allowing Communism to descend through South-East Asia to Australia was, like Communism itself, a concept accepted rather than questioned by most public commentators in May 1962. American political scientist Henry Albinski noted that the Liberal–Country Party: may have fed anti-Communist sentiment and exploited it electorally, but they did not invent it … Serious dislocation in Asia, coupled with a sense of communist conspiracy, bore directly on the classical image of Australian security definitions.14 David Lowe, in his study of Australian policies and Communism between 1949 and 1954, expressed similar sentiments about the 30


electoral advantage of establishing, in the early years of Menzies’ dominance, a Communist threat in the minds of Australian voters. It allowed Menzies to secure votes: dividing the ranks of the Opposition Labor Party, and … pushing through parliament his government’s legislative program. A menace that sought to penetrate Australia’s society and lay waste her cherished living conditions was the type of menace that could be used to great effect in domestic politics.15 Lowe emphasised that Australia’s ‘perceptions of communism’ in South-East Asia and Australia’s need to answer its sense of insecurity by American involvement in the region were ‘part of a broader appreciation of a global problem. The appreciation took much of its character from the picture of the world presented in London.’16 In conclusion, he asserted that: Perhaps the Cold War more than anything else ensured that the Menzies government saw the problems of South East Asia as being intimately related to global objectives agreed with Britain. As expediency could co-exist with principle, an American alliance could be fitted into Commonwealth planning. The creation of ANZUS meant that Australian and British approaches to the Americans were not as concerted as they might have been, but it did little to alter the basic conditions determining Australia’s appreciations of the Cold War, the nature of communist movements in South East Asia, and her own security requirements … the British achieved their objective of extracting an Australian defence commitment in an area of Commonwealth concern, Australia succeeded in convincing Britain of the wisdom of her planning to commit forces to Malaya before the Middle East, and both countries took a step closer towards effective liaison with the United States, with the formation of the South East Asian Treaty organisation in 1954.17 This background helps to explain the need—evident in press coverage—to balance Australian military commitments in South-East Committing Military Advisers

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Asia with the dictates of loyalties and security requirements of British and American presence in the area.18 While the need for American goodwill dominated over Australian loyalties to Britain, the relative importance of each was often raised in the Australian press. Despite its ANZUS setting, it was in the context of SEATO that the 1962 commitment was publicly justified.19

Pre-empting the Decision Two Melbourne papers, the Age and the Herald, were the first to alert the Australian public to the likelihood of Australian military involvement in South Vietnam.20 Pre-empting discussions of the eleventh meeting of the ANZUS Council in Canberra on 8–9 May 1962, the Canberra correspondent for the Age wrote: The Government is also considering the dispatch of Australian guerilla warfare experts to instruct the South Vietnamese, and a decision on this may emerge from the ANZUS meeting.21 According to the article, Brigadier (later Sir) Robert Thompson, then a senior British officer in Malaya and a noted expert on guerilla war training, had discussed with Canberra officials in the previous month a proposal to send Australian instructors to South Vietnam.22 The influence of Thompson in Australia’s decision to commit troops and the later use of Thompson in 1969 by then American President, Richard Nixon, to remove them, is a strangely unexplored avenue of public, and it would seem political, discussion. The fact that it was a British officer who appeared to exert such power is also noteworthy given that Britain did not make a military commitment in Vietnam. Other information confirms that Australian consideration of a military commitment had been raised as early as 17 November 1961 at American instigation.23 Alan Renouf, a senior officer in the Department of Foreign Affairs24, states that on 16 January 1962 Sir Howard Beale, Australian Ambassador in Washington, had renewed an offer to the Kennedy administration25, which was still under consideration when the ANZUS Council met in May.26 The Australian public and press were not privy to these discussions and the release of information in the Age on 7 May was prefaced with the comment that the talks due on 8–9 May between America, 32


Australia and New Zealand were ‘highly classified’, the purposes of the meeting had been discussed only in ‘broad’ terms and therefore the information in the article had been produced with ‘the help of a few official hints’, and ‘some plausible conclusions’. The report accentuated a sense of secrecy and importance by using phrases such as ‘Behind guarded doors’ and ‘The business paper for the meeting is a highly classified secret document’.27 Readers of the Age were being informed because a specialist political journalist28 had been briefed by one or more of those informed in Canberra or America. Political control over what was released and when was decided not by the journalist but by the informant. The political advantages of conditioning the Australian public to the decisions admitted to at the ANZUS conference, although not made official until 24 May, indicate the political assumption that decisions aimed at strengthening American ties at this time would find acceptance in the Australian community. The West New Guinea dispute had heightened Australia’s fears about security, for the United States had shown little understanding of the Australian stance. In the hyperbole of Coral Sea celebrations, a reminder to Australia of its debt to America in World War II, and with the flattering presence of Mr Dean Rusk, American Secretary of State, a very senior official to the American President, arm in arm with the Commander of the Seventh Fleet, Admiral Harry Felt, the announcement of an Australian military commitment to South Vietnam was auspicious. The Age correspondent claimed that US State officials had informally conveyed to Australian officials and parliamentarians visiting Washington that Australia could do more economically and militarily in sharing the burden of the Western alliance. Vietnam was described as ‘the principal trouble spot in the ANZUS area’ and it was expected that the Australian Government would offer support in the ‘campaign against Communist guerillas in South Vietnam’. Also noted was the likely consideration by the Government of the need to supply military instructors to Vietnam. The commentary suggested this would strengthen the United States’ desire for moral support in South Vietnam. This point was balanced by the equal emphasis given to the positive effect it would also have on South Vietnamese morale: The U.S. Government, which is the main supporter of the anti-Communist Government of South Vietnam, is keen to Committing Military Advisers

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have a few Australians there as a demonstration of ANZUS solidarity to boost the morale of the South Vietnamese and the people of neighbouring countries threatened with Communist subversion.29 More forthright comment and predictions came from Denis Warner in the Herald. With a confidence in his material and opinion that characterised his writing, he discussed the requirements, as he saw them, of Australia’s commitment of soldiers to South Vietnam: I had been brought up as a war correspondent in the Second World War and again in the Korean War to believe that a correspondent’s job was not only to say what people told you was going on but what you in fact thought was going on and that was the reason you had a by-line. It was to establish credibility. People could either say ‘this man writes rubbish so we won’t read him’ or ‘yes, this man can be trusted because we value his opinions’.30 Through a question-and-answer style, one he often used, Warner created a predicted dialogue between Barwick and Rusk. Rusk would say to Barwick, ‘We would like to know what Australia proposes to contribute to the effort in South Vietnam’. Barwick would reply to Rusk, ‘And we would like to know if you are prepared to go to the limit in aiding South Vietnam against the Viet Cong Communist forces’.31 Not satisfied with just proposing the questions, Warner also discussed the significance of the expected reply: The reply to question No 1 will depend on the answers to No 2, and together they will help largely to shape the course of our immediate foreign policy.32 Warner’s emphasis on the importance that the ANZUS conference would place on Australia’s aid to South Vietnam was substantiated over the next few days. Other comments in the article indicated Warner’s understanding of the climate in which discussions on the commitment were being considered. Warner asserted that there was a feeling in Washington that it was time Allied commitment to South-East Asia should be 34


more than ‘platitudes’. The Age Canberra correspondent had suggested why; Warner did not. Warner reported that Canberra was not yet certain that America would retain its commitment to South Vietnam, despite its apparent ‘determination to nail its colours to the South Vietnamese masthead’.33 The decision to become involved in Vietnam was not limited only to the question of American resolve warned Warner. There were ‘grave dangers’ for Australia in becoming involved in the war in Vietnam: White men fighting Asians on Asian territory is justifiable these days only if the cause they are fighting for is a worthy one and they are going to win.34 This consideration by Warner, so vital in hindsight, was rarely publicly discussed except by those with some knowledge or understanding of the forces of nationalism in South-East Asia at the time. The lack of discussion of this point in the press coverage, along with the publicly recognisable American context of Australian decisionmaking processes at this time, indicated the lack of a Vietnamese context or the importance of one for Government decision-makers. The copy of foreign correspondents from Asia would in some instances redress the imbalance. An adherence to the domino theory was another characteristic of Warner’s writing. It was a commitment which in the Cold War era of the early 1960s could be embraced without loss of intellectual respect but which, nevertheless, established Warner as a ‘hawk’ in the eyes of many Australian readers. If the Americans were serious about stopping Communism in South-East Asia, then concluded Warner: we should be with them. For if South Vietnam is lost to the Communists all of South East Asia will eventually be lost.35 The dominance of Australian interests in the decision to commit troops had won through by the conclusion of Warner’s article. While the Age correspondent discussed more than the question of Australia’s possible commitment of soldiers to South Vietnam, there were significant differences in the approaches to reporting similar information. Both were specialised journalists and both had Committing Military Advisers

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been privy to information not yet public. Both had produced a political report close to the Canberra perspective of the decision and its essentially American context. Warner’s copy showed an understanding of the Asian context of Australia’s commitment and the complexities involved in sending Australian troops into that environment.

Editorial Response Editorials can play a vital role in prompting the demand for public disclosure—they provide a signal to the decision-makers that those at the media helm are paying attention. They can also signify a media desire to take part in the decision-making process, be it pushing their political barrel or someone else’s. Although the Courier-Mail acknowledged the importance of the ANZUS meeting, it did little more than state an outline of a likely agenda for the meeting. The SMH and Age reminded politicians that the meeting was a ‘chance for plain speaking’.36 Editorials about the Council meeting emphasised the opportunity for Australia to state its views, but the Age acknowledged the reality, asserting that the military inadequacy of SEATO in SouthEast Asia, the West Irian dispute and the question of nuclear testing in the Pacific, were all of ‘vital concern to our defensive thinking’, but that it was ‘the American attitude’ in each case that would be ‘decisive’.37 The SMH was less submissive. It criticised Washington for taking for granted that its ‘tactical viewpoints’ would be accepted without question by Australia: In Australia’s case this acceptance has been reinforced by deference, indeed timidity, of its Government in refusing to embarrass the State Department by pressing Australian interests and views publicly.38 While the Age reminded readers of the ‘mutual obligations’ involved in defence treaties, the SMH claimed that Rusk would ask for more Australian support for ‘America’s proclaimed determination to maintain the status quo in South East Asia’.39 The editorial concluded that Rusk’s claim deserved consideration, but also that it was: Australia’s duty, in its own interest, to emphasise the blunt truth that American firmness in South East Asia will be 36


strategically futile if Indonesian Communism carries the forward approaches to Australia far behind the tenuous front line of Laos and South Vietnam.40 The SMH demanded an American response to Australia’s immediate perceived security threat, Indonesia, as well as an Australian input into discussions at ANZUS. Emphasising the influence some editorials were attempting to exert on American decision-making, the West Australian, under the heading ‘Clouds in our friendship with the United States’, proffered that America should show greater ‘understanding’ of Australians as their security in Asia became more tenuous.41 The sentiment expressed in the conclusion of the editorial had been emphasised differently in its introduction: Australia, young and exposed, remains a debtor to its powerful neighbour across the Pacific. A weakened Britain makes our security dependent on American might.42 The attempt by editorials to plead for Australian input into discussions was underlined by their acknowledgement that Australia was dependent on the United States, that its will would prevail, but perhaps Australia might at the very least, produce some understanding from its American protector. Editorials advocated an independent input but their recognition of Australia’s dependence illustrated the luxury of their position to do so.

SEATO The political directive of public information took a more official line on 8 May. Having hinted at the importance of more aid to South-East Asia, particularly South Vietnam, the press, now alerted to the possible significance of Vietnam, headlined their papers on 8 May with Barwick’s announcement that Australia was to provide a new £3 million program of assistance to Vietnam and Asian members of SEATO. News coverage now emphasised SEATO as the treaty under which Australia would increase her aid. The Australian public was advised that the aid had been asked for by South Vietnam. The emphasis had been redirected by Barwick in the wording of his announcement. Reportedly, he wished the information released ‘to emphasise the Committing Military Advisers

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importance it placed on SEATO as the basis for concerted resistance to Communist pressures in the treaty area’.43 The offer was of equipment that would help South Vietnam with the defence of their villages against Communist attacks. The prominent coverage given to Barwick’s announcement44 carried three timely political messages to the Australian public about Australia’s growing interest in South Vietnam: Australia was providing aid to South Vietnam under SEATO, the aid had been requested by South Vietnam, and the situation in South Vietnam, in terms of aid, was urgent. In the absence of any public and political clarification or opposition in the press, the editorials assumed importance as a source of information as well as comment. The Advertiser, now aware of the suggestion of Australia’s military advisers for South Vietnam, advocated that a military commitment would be a more significant step than the £3 million aid package for Asian members of SEATO. While the aid program was ‘sizeable’, a military mission to South Vietnam would better illustrate our commitment to SEATO: We may not have to face the issue now, but it is obvious that before long we shall be expected to stand up and be counted.45 The Age indicated that Australia had already taken a stand. Australia’s decision to provide equipment indicated that Australia took its responsibilities as a member of SEATO ‘seriously’. It applauded Australia’s decision to give aid, but did not see the need for this aid to be military. This was despite describing the issue of Vietnam as ‘vital’: At the moment, the need in Vietnam is not purely military. America is providing all that the Vietnamese force can digest. But there is a need to internationalise the support which Vietnam reasonably expects. Australia is no longer standing on the sidelines, and this on an issue as clear and as vital as Vietnam, is a step forward.46 The Age made an interesting attempt to establish an acceptable British and American balance in Australia’s aid to Vietnam. The same editorial claimed that the British commitment in Vietnam had been 38


the provision of the expert advice from Thompson that had resulted in the formation of ‘strategic hamlets’: The Australian contribution is accordingly balanced between the British and American commitments, which has been the hazardous intention generally of our policies abroad. It seems a wise course. It is probably also wise to channel aid to Vietnam through SEATO, rather than, as America has done, to give it directly.47 The fleeting query of the validity of the need for this balance was countered by affirmation that the Australian equilibrium between British and American policy was ‘wise’, as ‘probably’ also was the maintenance of SEATO as the basis of Australian support to Vietnam. The Herald criticised the token recognition by the Government of the ‘dangerous stresses’ building in South Vietnam. ‘The threat is now most acute in South Vietnam’ warned the Herald, and Barwick’s aid announcement, while an ‘indication of concern … may be very far from all that is required of us in our long term interests’.48 The West Australian chose to publish Warner’s article that had appeared in the Herald on 7 May. By 8 May the prediction of Australian involvement had circulated through most of the capital dailies. Barwick’s proposal for increased aid had been discussed in some papers in relation to Australian military involvement and the Advertiser and Herald had criticised Australia’s contribution of aid to South Vietnam as insufficient. Perceived American and Australian assessment of Australia’s performance as an ally was gauged as insufficient. In two days, despite the warning of the gravity of the decision about involvement and the lack of Australian input into the decisions affecting Australia and the United States, an opportune environment had been created for a political announcement confirming speculation on Government intention in Vietnam. Speculation continued in the press on 9 May with some addition to information despite the absence of any official announcement. Australian military commitment would ‘not be large’, wrote Cox: But the moral impact of Australian participation … in this area would, it is believed, be disproportionately large. This Committing Military Advisers

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would inspire the non-communist cause throughout Asia.49 Cox’s statement that ‘some senior ministers’ were troubled by America’s lone stance in South Vietnam confirmed later understanding of Australia’s considerations in committing military advisers. Vague references in the press to ‘backbenchers’ and ‘some senior ministers’ did little to enlighten a public that was being selectively conditioned to accept Government pronouncements on Australia’s seemingly sudden interest in South Vietnam.

Rusk and the Press Focus The Americans were definite in their setting of the press agenda. Rusk went to considerable effort to frame public information on Vietnam. His actions illustrated the importance he placed on the press in achieving Australian acceptance of the message. ‘It was the first taste of the American machine in action’ claimed Wallace Brown.50 Rusk flew into Canberra in Airforce II and, having invited journalists to view the plane, exhibited his coloured telephones, including one giving direct access to the President. A few days before his arrival, the American Embassy sent messages to organise a briefing with Rusk of Australian editors at a press conference. Brown recalled this unprecedented event: He summoned editors to the American Embassy … I got a message from the American Ambassador, ‘Rusk will be here … he wants to brief all Australian editors on the war. Can your editor be here, or sort of will your editor be here?’ This came to everyone … Editors came from all over Australia, at very short notice, to hear Rusk, Secretary of State, to get a briefing from them on the war. And they were impressed of course; the U.S. Secretary of State was summoning them to the U.S. Embassy. That was a big event.51 The briefing was evidently as memorable as the invitation. Brown described it as ‘impressive’ and ‘professional’. Journalists were confronted with Rusk’s public relations staff, screens and blackboards:

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Rusk in rapid fire manner reeling off statistics, and American policy, and everybody blinded by science by this man that had this amazing grasp on world affairs. This was the softening up, undoubtedly. He was the President’s emissary and was treated as such … He was a real ‘pro’. It had a big influence.52 This influence is difficult to gauge as some editorial response publicly warned for restraint in the Government initiative concerning Vietnam in May 1962, despite Rusk’s ‘softening up’. Brown’s insightful commentary during this period suggests he too balanced the American public relations ‘machine’ in assessing public disclosures during and arising from the ANZUS conference. Careful political agenda-setting for the press was well evidenced by Rusk’s reinforcement of it. In his special press conference at the American Embassy, Rusk spoke of topics that were discussed on the first day of the ANZUS meeting. Stating that Berlin and South-East Asia were the main danger spots in the world, Rusk concluded that the main danger spot of South-East Asia was South Vietnam.53 The prominence Rusk gave to this topic, rather than others on the ANZUS agenda, ensured continuing press interest. In doing so, Rusk was to help remove press questioning on two other significant issues to be clarified with Australia at the ANZUS conference: the approval of an American defence communications base at North West Cape in Western Australia and Australian support for continued American nuclear testing in the Pacific. These issues were, except for isolated examples, to take second place to press interest in Vietnam during the ANZUS conference. The report by the Age correspondent on 7 May had indicated press awareness of the acceptance of the base at North West Cape. The Americans’ application for North West Cape had been received and discussed by Cabinet in the week before the conference. ‘Incidentally, the ANZUS meeting may culminate in a joint announcement of substantial progress in a major Australian-American defence project—the establishment of a 40 million U.S. naval radio station in north-western Australia.’ The use of the word ‘Incidentally’ to begin the report suggests the priority one Canberra Press Gallery journalist gave to the project, despite its huge expense.54 The commentary of Brown and the West Australian’s political correspondent Uren Committing Military Advisers

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demonstrated a thoughtful consideration of political agenda-setting for the press at this time.55 Brown noted after the conference that Rusk’s domination had resulted in Australia committing herself outside the British Commonwealth and allowing, for the first time, ‘non-British forces’ to be permanently based on Australian soil. Australia had reaffirmed its support for nuclear testing in the Pacific.56 Brown was alerting his readers to the results of the ANZUS conference. The press had been directed towards Vietnam-related issues by comments on the likely agenda a day before Rusk arrived. While the development of Australian foreign policy in Vietnam was a vital issue, discussion of this decision allowed others to pass at the time of the conference with little press questioning. Uren also assessed news priorities at ANZUS: Buried in the mass of words comprising the long but uninformative communiqué issued at the end of the ANZUS Council meetings in Canberra, and concealed by decisions announced (or exposed) in isolation, is a wholly new concept for defence in our part of the world … Exposed at the end of the conference was the most dramatic decision of all—that the United States and Australian Governments had reached a firm agreement in principle to build a £70,000,000 U.S. Navy radio communications centre in the Exmouth Gulf area.57 Menzies formally introduced the acceptance of an American base at North West Cape on 18 May, the last day of the parliamentary sitting. The importance of the issue was to emerge during the federal election in 1963. The Opposition had debated aspects of nuclear policy in Parliament during the week of the ANZUS conference but the strong opposition it expressed to American testing in the Pacific received limited attention because of press interest in Australia’s likely military involvement in Vietnam. Comment in an editorial in the Mercury (Hobart), while extreme, indicated the direction of press attitudes to Opposition points of view at this time, especially when they appeared to challenge Australia’s standing with the United States. The editorial attacked the Labor Caucus for discussing, while the ANZUS conference was on, the decision to ‘approve a proposal that nuclear tests or stockpiling in Australia should be prohibited. If approved, this 42


extraordinary proposal will become official Labor policy, and the United States might well ask herself what sort of ally she has in the Pacific and whether the ANZUS pact is worth preserving.’58 The announcement of a ‘token’ military involvement to South Vietnam was important but the press concentration on it as the most important issue to emerge from the ANZUS meeting indicates that press priorities followed official lines. Prioritising Vietnam diminished press concentration on Australian support for continued nuclear testing in the Pacific and the establishment of a naval radio base at North West Cape.59 The reporting of aid to Thailand and the mounting tension in Laos, that dominated front-page news reports at this time, also helped to stress the importance of Vietnam. Amidst the reporting of Australia’s concern over Britain’s entry into the European Common Market, and American approval of the same, and the demonstrated public concern over American nuclear testing in the Pacific, it was South Vietnam that became the focus of the reporting of the ANZUS conference. The release of information from political players, and the comments of Rusk, whose high public profile assured publication of his views, indicated careful orchestration of public information.60 Rusk remained central to continuing press coverage of Australia’s possible intervention in Vietnam. In his address at the State Dinner held in Canberra on 9 May, Rusk pleaded for a ‘helping hand’ in South Vietnam.61 His plea received prominent coverage in Australian dailies on 10 May. While he claimed that Australia was helping in ‘significant and growing ways’, there was still more for all to do.62 The war that Communists called the ‘war of national liberation’ was ‘in reality, a gangster war of horror and assassination. The stakes are greater than South Vietnam itself. The dependence of all peoples of South East Asia is involved.’63 While Rusk’s description of the nature of the war was carried in the text of the report on page one in the Canberra Times,64 the Daily Telegraph chose to headline its story with the words, ‘Gangster war in S-E Asia’.65 The sensational heading accurately rendered the words of America’s Secretary of State into an irresistible ‘sound-bite’! It was a deliberate misrepresentation of the war in Vietnam by a high-ranking American official, who knew his words would be carried through the press the following morning. Barwick’s statements on the nature of the war had already been reported. He had established a view about Committing Military Advisers

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the aggression South Vietnam was resisting and illustrated part of the Government line that was to persist during the war years. This was that South Vietnam was not involved in a civil conflict, but rather the subject ‘of infiltration and aggression. Thousands of men are deployed there terrorising villages and massacring people. These men are trained and supplied by North Vietnam.’66

Uncontested Statements The need for the press to keep the public aware of government statements and directions as news is vital. The inherent access the press gives to political leaders provides, as it did in Australia’s entry into the Vietnam War, an easy tool for manipulation of public information. The public has shown an acceptance of limited information from a government when foreign policy is involved—a belief that the Government, privy to more detailed understanding, will base its decisions on Australia’s national interest. When front-page news reports and editorials alert the public to new information but the story moves on quickly, readers can have a sense of having been adequately informed. Equally it may represent an undiluted political message because press and public are caught unaware of the significance of the new foreign policy direction. This is one of the greatest weaknesses of the press. It is a weakness that also impinges on the quality of communication in a democracy. It increases the power of politicians to frame issues as they choose and gain public consent from an ill-informed basis.67 The power of political leaders to do this could have been challenged by a press more informed about the nature of the conflict in South-East Asia or reported comment from an Australian public willing to add to the debate. There was none— except for a sprinkling of editorial comment and the voice of informed foreign correspondents. In summarising Rusk’s speech most papers emphasised the request for a ‘helping hand’. The language in Rusk’s speech appeared calculated. The headlines to the reports on 10 May illustrate the point. The SMH heading read: ‘More for all of us to do’. ‘Rusk calls for aid in Vietnam’ ran the heading, page one, in the Canberra Times. The Advertiser headed its story ‘Call by Mr Rusk: “Helping hand” needed for South Vietnam’. None of the accounts included Rusk’s comment on American Allied responsibilities and their cost to the American ‘taxpayer’. While claiming that Australians were ‘putters in’ and that 44


the comment was irrelevant to them, he stated that other friends did need to be told because they seemed to think America had ‘magic mountains’ from which they could ‘shovel gold’. He reminded those present at the State Dinner that these were American ‘taxpayers’ dollars’, being used to defend the freedom of countries afraid of being invaded by Communists.68 Press interest in reporting Rusk’s request for a ‘helping hand’ owed much to Barwick’s announcement made three hours after Rusk’s address. It too received prominent coverage. It announced the decision of Australia to send military experts to South Vietnam if requested. Examination of the press coverage on 10 May of Barwick’s announcement suggests a hurried and poorly thought through decision or, in hindsight, a calculated attempt to misinform the Australian public about the extent of the proposed commitment. (The obvious knowledge that Warner and the Age correspondent had before the ANZUS meeting indicates Australia’s readiness for a form of commitment. Research by Gary Woodard offers some interpretations to this period of commitment and Barwick’s part in it.)69 One clear Government objective in publicly disclosing its intention was related to Rusk’s presence in Australia. Barwick’s claim that it was a SEATO initiative, owing nothing to American pressure, would have been more readily sustained if it had not been made at the final press conference of the ANZUS meeting. As the Age reminded its readers: the timing of events could leave an impression that a new Australian commitment in Vietnam is being considered as a gesture of support to Washington. A more solid basis for such an extension of our foreign policy is required and it is the Government’s duty to the public to provide it.70 The Age wrote critically of Government performance and intention in its proposal of military involvement in Vietnam. It warned that the public presentation of Government policy needed a credible interpretative base. To whom the warning was directed, Government, public or both, is impossible to ascertain. Renouf’s claim that the ANZUS meeting was important because ‘Australia’s commitment of military aid began there’ appears valid.71 This position is further endorsed by Edwards. He wrote that a ‘major concern’ of the Australian Government at this time was that the Committing Military Advisers

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Americans would not be totally committed to the protection of nonCommunist governments in South-East Asia. Barwick, according to Edwards, had brought his legal skills to the cross-examination of Rusk on this point, asking whether the United States: Had taken a fundamental decision to defend the antiCommunist government in South Vietnam, ‘come hell or high water’. Rusk answered positively … Rusk’s performance under Barwick’s questioning led directly to the Australian commitment of the AATTV [Australian Army Training Team Vietnam].72 There is a marked similarity between the description of Barwick’s concern expressed here, with the help of Cabinet source material, and Warner’s.73 Warner’s material had been published on 7 May. The uncanny similarity between Warner’s projection of the discussion at ANZUS with what occurred two days later suggests Warner may have represented known concerns of Barwick. Alternatively, but less likely, Barwick may have considered Warner’s questions worthy of consideration. Barwick’s attempt to dispel the American connection in the decision was unconvincing but the pronouncement that Australia would only send military advisers if asked was duly reported in Australian news reports. The Advertiser headlined its 10 May edition: ‘If South Vietnam asks ... Australia will send aid’.74 The SMH page one heading read: ‘Army experts for Vietnam. “If asked” ’75, an emphasis mirrored on page one in the Courier-Mail: ‘Barwick pledges military aid, “IF THEY ASK FOR IT” ’.76 Barwick’s need to stress the military aid in terms of an invitation was the result of the agreement of SEATO that Allies would not militarily involve themselves in another’s country unless requested. Barwick’s emphasis indicated political awareness of a publicly legitimate basis for a military presence in South Vietnam and press reporting cemented this legitimacy. There is little evidence in the news reports of any questioning of the Government’s justification although one journalist did raise the issue at the press conference. The reporter asked Barwick in response to the stated requirement of a Vietnamese invitation, ‘Who is going to tell them to ask?’77 The question reflected a deeper understanding of South Vietnam’s position regarding the request than most reports in 46


Australian newspapers had, to that stage, helped to develop.78 Barwick’s response was ambiguous, suggesting a patronising attitude to South Vietnam, and/or a lack of understanding of the South Vietnamese fear of bearing the stigma of becoming a foreign ‘puppet’. ‘The point is the willingness of the Vietnamese to do things for themselves. They have shown a disposition to look after themselves.’ 79 Australia’s aid would help to ‘give them the necessary wherewithal to throw off the aggression that seeks to overthrow them’.80 The problem of differentiating between ‘military advisers’ and a military commitment, the need to satisfy the United States by removing from America the stigma of colonialism in her lone military commitment in South Vietnam, while at the same time not wanting to appear in Australia or internationally to be becoming militarily involved, posed an unresolvable dilemma for the Australian Government. The press response to this confusion was scepticism. The rush with which Barwick had announced Australia’s willingness to send military advisers on 9 May was shown in his inability to be definite about the numbers of men the Government planned to send. He had announced that the total was expected to be ‘a handful—possibly only three or four’.81 Such a response, in terms of the urgency of the crisis in Vietnam that Rusk and Barwick were portraying, begged the obvious question of tokenism. Significantly it was an American journalist who queried Barwick’s pronouncement. Given that America had 8000 servicemen in Vietnam, the reporter asked Barwick was there a need for a token Australian force or was its purpose ‘purely morale building’.82 Barwick’s response could have led to a questioning by the press and the public of the level of Australian input into the decision to send advisers. Barwick replied that Rusk ‘had in mind that there ought to be an exhibition there of wider free world interest in the future of these people’.83 This comment did little to support another published contention of Barwick’s at the same press conference, that ‘although the Americans approved, it was not the result of an American request’.84 It was clear from news reports that this was a token gesture but it was editorials that indicated the problem of public definition of Australia’s gesture.

Development of Editorial Response The importance of the decision, and the total lack of public and political debate in the process of making it, were evident. Editorial Committing Military Advisers

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response varied and the different focal points of each indicated the realisation of the complexities involved in the decision. While many news reports from political journalists in Canberra acquiesced in the Government line, some editorials did not. The Courier-Mail acknowledged the right of America to more support from SEATO members in Vietnam but questioned the gravity of the decision to send soldiers, ‘even if they were no more than a “token force” ’.85 Although the paper’s definition of Australia’s military commitment as ‘token’ was apt, it did not question the possible resultant imbalance of political and military impetus for the decision. By indicating to readers that the role of the American advisers in Vietnam could not be defined as non-military involvement, the paper further obscured the political determinant of the decision. However, the editorial’s scepticism about the Government’s definition of the adviser’s role was clearly argued: American airmen are piloting planes and helicopters carrying troops and supplies to fighting fronts. Hideouts of Communist guerrillas have been bombed.86 Diem’s government did not need Australia’s ‘token force’ asserted the editorial, and ‘fighting help from outside countries could make Vietnam another Korea without the sanction of the United Nations’.87 The description of the help offered as ‘fighting’ indicated that the Government’s attempt to minimise public perception of Australia’s intended role, in this instance, was unsuccessful. The role of the Australian soldiers to be sent was clearly defined by Barwick as ‘advisers’ not combat troops. Even in the leaked reports before Barwick’s announcement this information had been stressed.88 The press determinedly defined the gesture as a military commitment that could involve a combat role and editorials discussed the announcement in that way. Politicians may have controlled the flow of specific information in order to condition an acceptance of the Government’s intention in Vietnam, but once that intention was made clear, papers responded to the reality, not the camouflage. David Marr, in his biography of Barwick, wrote that Townley’s assertion that ‘Australia would not be sending combat troops’ was ‘the first of the official lies’ about Australian participation in the war:

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Australian troops were to instruct in combat. The process which was to implicate the Australian government, including Barwick, in the business of hiding the truth about the country’s participation in the war began with that first announcement.89 The Age also expressed scepticism about the role of the Australian advisers and estimates of ‘three or four’. ‘How many men will be sent?’ asked the Age. ‘Will they, as American troops are doing as “instructors”, fight and die in the field alongside the Vietnamese?’ It questioned the reinterpretation of the war—‘it used to be called a civil war’.90 The West Australian was equally blatant in its exposure of the Government’s patronising attitude to public information suggested by Barwick’s vague remarks on the commitment. It warned that the willingness to send a small group would open the way for larger commitments. Barwick’s estimate of men, said the paper, was not convincing.91 Other vital issues were addressed in editorial response. The Age editorial asked if the Australian response to send soldiers would be because of SEATO obligations or as ‘direct Australian assistance to Vietnam’.92 The Age was ignoring the answer already offered by the Government, highlighting the inadequacy of that information. The editorial acknowledged Australian treaty obligations but emphasised the lack of specifics in the Government disclosures. ‘It appears that a Cabinet decision has been made in anticipation of a formal request from Vietnam.’93 Official historians, McNeill and Edwards, analysing this aspect of Australia’s decision to commit advisers in May 1962, make it clear that official sources indicate that Cabinet decided on 15 May that Australian soldiers would become involved in the Vietnam conflict if a request from South Vietnam was received. This appears to validate Barwick’s public claim on 10 May.94 However, neither has recorded that the request was forthcoming from any representative of the South Vietnamese Government. In line with the criticism of the lack of Vietnamese context of the decision the Age editorial challenged the overwhelmingly American one: It must be shown that intervention in Vietnam, which is a key country of Asia, is in the interests of Australia’s future in Committing Military Advisers

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Asia and not only in the interests of our partnership with America.95 The central theme of the Age editorial was the lack of public information on a vital Government commitment, and it warned ‘the nation must be clear as to the nature of the undertaking’.96 Evidence suggests the Government was not clear about its objectives other than to satisfy American opinion and support America in her lone stance in South Vietnam so that Australia would gain the security of a protector. As Australia’s involvement grew, supportive public response, which needs to be differentiated from vocal public response, showed little concern for clear political objectives and appeared comfortable with the price of American goodwill. Editorials asked pertinent questions but the failure of their own papers to follow up and obtain answers was a failing of the press at this time. The time span between 7 May when speculation began and 24 May, when the commitment became official, did not allow much time for encouraging a public response or pressuring the Government for a more democratic flow of information. The press had to balance reports of the American display of interest in Australian involvement and the release of information formalised into policy at the end of a parliamentary session. The press may initiate consideration of news reports but in the absence of all other response the decision on how long a story runs is only partly determined by the press. The editorial response did communicate a challenge to Government pronouncements and offered other perspectives on which readers could reflect. In an environment lacking debate and new voices the press did not retain an interest. What is published by the press and when are intrinsically linked and to a considerable degree influenced and determined by others in the communication process. Focusing on the legitimacy of the Government’s justification to commit advisers under SEATO, the West Australian raised an issue that was to become important to examiners of the decision in later years when it would be claimed that the Government’s use of SEATO in this instance was, in Renouf’s words, ‘spurious’.97 The Government claim, wrote the West Australian, that the decision was not a departure from the ‘principle of collective security’ was unconvincing. The editorial advised that ‘collective security should entail prior agreement on policy and methods among all parties before any military 50


action is undertaken. Even at this stage South Vietnam has not asked for Australia’s help.’98 This transitory concern was a legal question rather than a moral one99, for in its conclusion the editorial clearly emphasised Australia’s self-interest as motivation for intervention. It echoed Warner’s view that Australia should not become militarily involved in Vietnam unless American intentions there were clear. A different approach was adopted by the SMH, which described the ‘sudden’ decision to send ‘three or four’ soldiers as ‘humiliating’. It called for the abandonment of Australia’s ‘self indulgent, unreal assumptions that America alone should carry the burden of the Western cause in our part of the world’.100 The paper further claimed that the most important fact to emerge from the ANZUS meeting was America’s dissatisfaction with ‘Australia’s potential and performance as an ally’.101 Despite the argument to promote American satisfaction by a greater commitment, the editorial concluded with the same underwritten frustration of the ideal situation for Australia, having first established the reality. The ‘larger lesson’, wrote the SMH, was the need for Australia to become more ‘self-reliant in all ways’. But the first area of importance in which to develop self-reliance was defence.102 The Daily Telegraph defined the basis of Australia’s decision simply: Participation in South Vietnam is a responsibility we must shoulder. By shouldering it we prove our good faith to our allies and so contribute to our own security.103 The question of why Australia was sending this token force was answered in different ways in newspapers depending on the section of the newspaper you read. The news pages carried Barwick’s comments that the decision was taken because South Vietnam should be assisted by as many countries as possible.104 The practice of carrying what were regarded as important Government announcements on page one or at the least prominently on other pages increased the influence of the Government’s explanations over other columns within the newspapers. The Canberra-based correspondents, rarely identified in bylines, were allowed considerable freedom to mix news and commentary. Cox, in the Herald, interpreted the decision to send Committing Military Advisers

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troops as an Australian wish to show the ‘Australian flag beside the United States flag’.105 Australia’s gesture would ‘tend to restore the depreciated stocks of SEATO’, and Australians had ‘reason to believe’ that Vietnam would welcome the decision. The Courier-Mail’s Canberra reporter suggested that a firm decision would probably come after Barwick’s proposed visit to South Vietnam and then continued that the discussion with Rusk may ‘on the other hand result in a much earlier decision’.106 The press added to the lack of precise information being offered to the public. The proviso, ‘if South Vietnam asks’, had been ignored in most editorials and in reports from Canberra Press Gallery journalists after the initial release of that stipulation on their news pages. The Courier-Mail’s Canberra reporter noted in the news report that one reason for Australia’s interest in sending advisers to South Vietnam according to ‘observers’ was that it would be a good political and diplomatic move.107 In his column ‘This Week in Canberra’, Brown stated his opinion without blurred edges. Australia would give aid to South Vietnam because ‘America had done so and because of American pressure’.108 The raising of vital points and the failure to pursue them reduced the quality of the communicative role of the press to the Australian people. The Age had fleetingly acknowledged a redefinition of the war in its editorial on 11 May when it wrote of the Vietnam conflict as one that ‘used to be called a civil war’.109 On 16 May, again in its editorial, the Age described the war in Vietnam as one to support a Government ‘being hotly pressed by guerrillas openly directed from Hanoi’.110 There was no attempt to explain the developing complexity of the nature of the war Australia was going to support in South Vietnam.

South-East Asian Correspondents The value of South-East Asia correspondents’ reports and commentary was the Asian perspective and context that the better reporters were able to communicate to their Australian audience. Their copy never had the front-page consistency of the views of the more limited Australian context emerging from politicians on the war and reasons for involvement in Canberra. Although Australian correspondents in South-East Asia were also limited to domestic reporting requirements and carried their cultural baggage in interpretations of the Asian context, their insights at critical times during Australia’s involvement were deserving of greater political and public consideration. 52


It is important to note that foreign reporters were also limited at times by their use of official sources that often included embassies, where the Australian Government’s lines could be reinforced. The small number of longer term foreign reporters, such as Denis Warner and Richard Hughes, tended to extend the influence of some as a source in Australian newspapers. Even if at times their answers to questions were tainted by personal persuasions, their copy showed an understanding of the questions, within the Asian context, that needed to be asked. Richard Hughes, an Australian correspondent based in Hong Kong, was one of the few foreign writers whose copy was regularly published in Australian papers. Hughes had been writing about Asia since World War II and was known by reporters during the war in Vietnam as ‘His Grace’.111 He believed in the exchange of information with embassies in order to remain informed.112 One of his reports during this period indicated the role of editors in the final publishing of such reports. His by-line was carried on two articles in different Australian dailies on 10 May. Under the heading in the Courier-Mail, ‘Our token force to “stand fast” ’, he wrote of Australia’s decision as ‘underscoring American determination to stand fast and win the hard war against Communist guerrilla terrorism’.113 The commitment would enhance ‘Australian prestige’ and faith in SEATO. Hughes’ adherence to the domino theory was evident in his claim that the fall of South Vietnam would have ‘disastrous repercussions’ throughout South-East Asia. His concluding remark appeared to exemplify the distance between him and his Australian reading public. His point was significant but few non-specialised readers or followers of South Vietnam would have understood its implication. Hughes wrote: ‘[T]he crisis has become more acute since the long-expected revolutionary political front has at last emerged in South Vietnam to give a democratic mask to Communist terrorism’.114 The obscurity in the statement that offered no background or further clarification did little to enlighten readers. The lack of continuity in the article was explained by examining the article in the West Australian published the same day. The article, by-lined ‘Richard Hughes’, on 10 May, began ‘[T]he long expected revolutionary political front in South Vietnam has at last given a democratic mask to the Communist terrorist movement’.115 The West Australian had chosen to print the latter part of Committing Military Advisers

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Hughes’ copy. It had removed the context of Hughes’ view of its importance. In an attempt to produce an article on politics in Vietnam, the paper had removed Hughes’ comment, ‘The crisis has become more acute … ’. The West Australian made the choice to publish that part of his article that dealt with internal news from Vietnam rather than Hughes’ opinions on Australia’s commitment. The ending of the story in the Courier-Mail suggested that space had played its part along with the decision to publish Hughes’ views on Australia’s commitment rather than an article on the Vietnamese. The different choice of Hughes’ copy in both papers suggests a different perception of public interest or the different role each paper chose as informant. The editing in the Courier-Mail was poor, not only for what it left out, but for its failure to cut Hughes’ story in an intelligible way. Neither paper judged the complete story written from Asia about Vietnam deserving of extended space. Not least in importance, in terms of Australian coverage, is what this example of publishing indicated about the editing of Hughes’ copy that carried his by-line. A reader who read the West Australian and the Courier-Mail could have read Hughes’ opinionated copy about Australia’s proposed military commitment and his less opinionated copy about the National Liberation Front. Hughes’ assertion that this development in Vietnamese politics was ‘at least as important as the United States decision to step up military supplies in South Vietnam’116 deserved a larger audience in Australia in May 1962. He reasoned this advantage over America’s efforts was significant because it was ‘homemade, many of the members of the central committee are themselves South Vietnamese, branding the Diem family as corrupt hirelings of the Americans and promising basic land reforms and an improved living standard’.117 The unwillingness of Australians to consider Vietnam in this light may have added another explanation to the failure of the CourierMail to publish the second part of his article. It was an example of the understanding that South-East Asian correspondents were capable of bringing to their work but their comments were not always what some Australians, motivated by interests other than Vietnam in their decisions to become involved there, would have been willing to listen to in 1962. The Australian public was rarely informed by press or politicians about the support Communists had in South Vietnam that had not been gained by the Communists through fear and intimidation tactics. 54


As Frank Frost claimed in his study of Australian military involvement in Vietnam, ‘Australian interpretations of the origins and nature of the conflict … were narrowly drawn, unduly reliant on the concept of the conflict as an “invasion” and failed to give due attention to a series of internal factors which weakened the R.V.N. and produced widespread support for the communist led resistance’.118 Warner, in another question-and-answer article in the Herald on 12 May, in response to his set query as to whether the war in South Vietnam was ‘a nationalist uprising that should have our sympathy’, responded ‘[T]he Communists are behind it but there is some local support’.119 But while Warner described Ho Chi Minh as ‘impressive’, he described Diem as a ‘man of high integrity, a nationalist and a patriot’.120 The publication in the Herald of articles from John Williams, based in Singapore, affirmed the value of Asian-based correspondents.121 On 26 May Williams asked the pertinent question: ‘How will Asians see us when our forces join U.S. in … South Vietnam?’ The heading warned, ‘We run new risks in Asia now’.122 Williams advised that South-East Asian newspapers and politicians had been roused by Australia’s decision to send small forces to Vietnam and Thailand. ‘Malayan newspapers are displaying the latest statement or speculation from Canberra on their front pages, while Radio Peking and Radio Hanoi give the impression that their propagandists have sharpened their pencils and are looking in Australia’s direction.’123 Reportedly non-Communists and Communists perceived the gesture as Australia ‘identifying her interests more closely with those of the United States’.124 A valid interpretation from Asia of the lack of an Asian context to Australia’s decision so early in our involvement is significant. It was a reminder of what should have been a significant consideration in Australian strategic thinking. Warner had also warned of the dangers of becoming militarily involved in an area in which our future lay.125 The absence of any attempt to seriously understand Vietnam’s needs at this time was a reflection of public ignorance and indifference and the acceptance that our understanding of South Vietnamese issues was directly related to American and Australian interests. The press did not question the need for Barwick to have made his first factfinding tour of Asia as Minister for External Affairs before he committed Australian military forces to Vietnam. Committing Military Advisers

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The article by Williams addressed vital issues but it was printed in only one paper. Warner’s copy was often carried after publication in the Herald and in other Herald and Weekly Times publications. The fact that Williams’ article was not repeated suggests either a lack of recognition of the quality of the article, an unwillingness to print the view expounded, or an indifference to reports from Asian correspondents. The value of Williams’ perspective was exemplified in his own comment: ‘But viewed from Southeast Asia, Australia’s direct involvement … does entail certain risks’. Williams’ sceptical attitude to the misconceptions held by the United States was evident in his description of their plans in Vietnam: Now the rosy American plans to wipe out the communist Vietcong guerrillas in a matter of months have been replaced by the recognition that there is no visible end to this horrible little war.126 The war would not be won by tanks and jet fighters warned Williams. He had also stated the importance of not misunderstanding the nature of the war in Vietnam.127 In a timely reminder he noted that the danger of Australian military commitment was the development of a thinking that believed there could be a military solution. A point not raised elsewhere at this stage, but critical, was Williams’ attempt to inform readers about the dangers of accepting generalisations about the situation in Vietnam being presented by those justifying involvement. Vietnam was not a simply defined struggle between Communism and democracy: It is a time of unsettled new States, acute nationalism, and population growth which retards economic progress. The uneducated peasants would put it more simply but it would come to the same thing. They want a village well, dispensary or school. They want freedom from exploitation of landowner, middleman or official.128 While these comments represented the opinion of one journalist, they were informative and as deserving of reflection as were the limited views presented by Barwick, Rusk and Townley about the 56


nature of the war in South Vietnam. The official voice was accorded a respect not granted to other commentators. When Townley issued his press release containing the statement that in Vietnam there was ‘an urgent problem of communist infiltration and insurgency which is … directed and supported from North Vietnam’129, it was carried in press news columns across Australia. Williams’ article, and those of other specialised correspondents, were more often than not carried in only one paper and almost never on page one. Like Hughes, Williams also wrote of the ‘home-made’ importance of Communism in South Vietnam. The doctrine expressed by the Communists promised a ‘fair share for all’ and was being ‘preached by men who are of the people, who understand and are understood by the peasant’. In such an environment Williams asserted that the influence of ‘white people from distant lands’ was limited. Not only their colour would prove a barrier but ‘their seemingly incredible wealth’ which would reduce direct contact with the peasant. If white soldiers were linked with Vietnamese officials and soldiers whom the peasant blames for his woes then ‘Western interference may breed hatred … This is the risk the Americans have felt compelled to run, and which in a smaller way, Australia is about to run’.130 Williams, like Warner, in these few weeks of reporting on Australia’s decision to become involved militarily in South Vietnam had raised important questions about the nature of the war in Vietnam. Both journalists had provided information and warnings about the gravity of the decision Australia was taking; each drew different conclusions from similar content. Warner’s answer to his question of whether Australia should become involved, despite the ‘risk of defeat’, and ‘despite the opprobrium involved in having white men fighting Asians’ in Vietnam, was ‘Yes’.131 Williams’ copy did not seek to answer as Warner’s did, but it did seek to warn in the context of the Asian view of Australia’s commitment. The copy of Warner, Williams and Hughes represented the only specialised comment from Australian South-East Asian correspondents reported in the metropolitan dailies studied during the period of public disclosure of Australia’s military commitment in Vietnam in May 1962.132

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International Response Some Australian newspapers alerted readers to a small but significant response in other countries to Australia’s decision to make a military commitment. The Canberra Times reported that the New York Herald Tribune had described the decision as ‘logical’ and one that should prove useful to Australia.133 Reportedly the Tribune editorial had said that the Australians had a greater interest than anyone in stemming Communism in South-East Asia and there was ‘every reason why they should have a hand in it’.134 An AAP report from New York also noted that Moscow had criticised the decision on Moscow radio. Quoting Associated Press of America, the report said that Rusk had wasted his time in Australia because he had obtained Australian military intervention in Vietnam. Australian troops would become part, quoted the report, of the ‘unofficial war whose fires are being fanned by the American militarists’. The decision to support a ‘thoroughly rotten regime of dictator Ngo Dinh Diem’, claimed Moscow radio, was not likely to bring joy to ‘the peace loving public’ in Australia.135 The same report appeared in the Advertiser, also on page one. While the heading in the Canberra Times read ‘Aid to Vietnam hailed by U.S.’, and began with the New York Herald Tribune’s comments, the report in the Advertiser was headed ‘Australia slated’, and reported the Moscow radio report first. The significance of this change of emphasis is difficult to evaluate given that the public fear of Communism during the Cold War era that saw Russia and/or China behind all Communist expansion in Asia. As Rusk had said in his State Dinner address, ‘unhappily, there were forces in the world determined to impose their system on all the peoples of the world’. Australians should be wary of drawing comfort from disagreements on ideology and policy because ‘Both of the major branches of the Communist movement are intent upon burying us’.136 The criticism by Russia of an Australian defence commitment was as likely to produce reinforcement of its validity as was US praise.

Reporting the South Vietnamese Response Coverage of the South Vietnamese response to Australia’s intention to send military advisers ‘if asked’ was insignificant. There is no evidence that comment was sought in Vietnam. The comments of the South Vietnamese Ambassador in Australia, Tran Van Lam, on the 58


proposed decision announced by Barwick on 9 May, were recorded in the general news columns of Australian papers within the reports written about the decision. His remarks were reported as welcoming this demonstration of solidarity. Using the ambiguity involved in the proposed sending of military advisers, rather than combat troops, Tran Van Lam asserted that: Vietnam did not need combat troops because there had been a spontaneous move by the people to protect themselves … The village people need supplies like barbed wire, alarm systems and communications to help them protect homes.137 The heading of the SMH report, ‘Combat troops “not needed” ’, highlighted the Ambassador’s attitude to ‘combat troops’. In the Advertiser, he was also reported as stating that ‘there would be no question of asking Australia for combat troops’ but the paper claimed he had indicated that the most pressing need was for ‘military instructors to train villagers in defence matters’.138 His remarks passed without notice in that they were not raised by the Opposition or in editorial comment. More informed politicians would have understood their significance and noted their intent. The invisibility of a Vietnamese response in May 1962 remained a constant throughout the reporting of Australia’s policy decisions on Vietnam. In accordance with Australian and US wishes the formal invitation for military advisers from South Vietnam was reported in the press on 19 May. The confidence with which so many papers, on the same day, reported a request for advisers suggests official input. Only the headline in the Age evidenced careful reporting. ‘Australia’s offer accepted by Vietnam’ read the page one lead and the introductory sentence began: ‘South Vietnam has formally accepted Australia’s offer of military instructors … ’.139 The Canberra Times lead read: ‘Australian force going to Vietnam. Aid sought’. ‘South Vietnam seeks Australian aid’ read the page one heading in the Advertiser, while the Courier-Mail also illustrated the press acceptance of the Government line with ‘South Vietnam asks Australia’s aid; Official’. Press reports noted that no official announcement of commitment of advisers had yet been made by the Australian Government and asserted that this would come when the details were known. Decades later, Committing Military Advisers

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confirmation of a request by South Vietnam for Australian troops before 24 May 1962, remained to be officially, if not publicly, confirmed.

The Lack of an Opposition Response The Opposition’s silence on the emergence of public information on Australia’s commitment during this period was astounding. Despite a few complaints about Opposition silence, there is no evidence that the press sought comment. The reasons for this lack of response remain speculative. It may have been an illustration of the lack of political interest in the issue by Canberra correspondents or evidence to support Michael Sexton’s view that ‘the early 1960’s was a period of political somnolence’, when Labor was characterised by a ‘spirit of hopelessness’ which had ‘destroyed most of its members as effective critics of the government’.140 Sexton argued that it was ‘always necessary to pledge strong support for the American alliance and avoid any kind of support for ideas or groups tainted with the communist label’.141 It was a problem for Labor that Labor MP Jim Cairns, who consistently opposed Government policy in Vietnam, recognised. He felt that ongoing arguments about anti-Communism would only delay Labor’s achievement of a useful policy. Achievement of this constructive policy will … strengthen Australia more than any alternative so that she may better answer the great challenge of the twentieth century that faces her—to avoid war and establish good relations with the Asian people.142 The Labor Party was as committed to the American alliance as the Government, and in the early years before 1965 its silence confirmed consensus with Government direction. The press failure to address the silence of the Opposition, for whatever reason they remained uninvolved in public debate, was as evident as the silence itself in Opposition ranks. A month earlier, Labor member for East Sydney, Eddie Ward, had stated in Parliament that the ‘real danger of Australia becoming involved in a war’ was not in Indonesia or West New Guinea, ‘but in South Vietnam’.143 In the limited time accorded him during adjournment on 5 April, Ward asserted that American advisers had already 60


incurred injury in South Vietnam. He claimed that the ANZUS Council meeting to be held in May had been called instead of a SEATO meeting because the commitment required to be made on intervention in South-East Asia, if conflict arose there, was regarded as too difficult to discuss in front of some Asiatic SEATO members. Prophetically, Ward warned that there was a danger in interfering in nationalistic internal disputes: It would be a mistake for Australia to be dragged into a conflict without the Parliament being consulted. The party in the Parliament controlling the greatest electoral support has not been given a voice in the matter. The Minister for External Affairs should explain why this Parliament is being ignored.144 The Honourable Member’s limited time expired and further input from Ward did not come until 16 May when Barwick responded to seven Questions on Notice about Vietnam. The lack of information available to the Opposition on the Government’s intention is clear from the question posed by Labor MP Gordon Bryant to John Cramer, Minister for the Army, on 9 May, two days after press speculation began on the issue of Australia’s military involvement in Vietnam. The relationship between the Opposition’s first inquiry and press coverage at this time suggests that the press was playing the role of informant to more than the Australian public. Bryant asked Cramer if the Government had made a decision to send Australian fighting men to South Vietnam: If so, how many troops does it propose to send? Will the Minister give an undertaking that the House will be given an opportunity to debate the matter before such a step is taken, fraught as it may be with far-reaching consequences and commitments to Australia?145 In hindsight, Cramer’s reply says much about Australian democracy in May 1962. ‘The Honourable Member’s question is the first I have heard of such a suggestion.’146 The question and answer were recorded in some newspapers in the news columns on page one on 10 May. The influence the question had on Barwick’s decision to Committing Military Advisers

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announce his intentions that evening before public debate did develop is worth consideration. The Opposition’s question indicated a concern but it failed to follow up that concern with public statements when press interest in the issue may have assured their publication. At the very least, the Australian public may have understood Labor’s position on the issue, and if it were possible for Australia, in this instance, to have another view. Only the press questioned—in varying degrees and emphasis—Government intention and, while some papers noted Bryant’s question and Cramer’s answer, further clarification was not sought and Government duplicity was not questioned when Barwick made his announcement later that day. Wallace Brown was again the exception. In his column ‘This Week in Canberra’, he was persistent in his criticism of a lack of Opposition comment. On 12 May he criticised the lack of initiative in the Opposition to make an immediate attack on the issue.147 He wrote that the Opposition had failed ‘on a matter in which there surely must be divided public opinion, and about which the people as a whole have a right to hear a debate in the country’s top public forum’.148 The press had certainly acknowledged its adherence to Parliament as its ‘top public forum’. It had faithfully recorded Government leaks and pronouncements, but it had at least reflected on these in its editorial columns and through reports by specialist correspondents. The failure of the Opposition at this time to add their views to those of the Government on the nature of the war in Vietnam and the decision to become militarily involved was an indictment of its public responsibility. The lack of comment from the Opposition was perceived in one paper as ignorance. The editorial in the West Australian on 18 May stated that Labor needed to be better informed and that in the forthcoming overseas trip Menzies was taking, along with a Labor delegation, it was ‘particularly important that Labor should bring itself up to date in the United States on questions of defence policy in South East Asia’.149 Significantly, it was the American viewpoint that would solve Labor’s perceived want of information. The lack of debate, as Brown indicated on 19 May, was also an indictment of the Government. In three months of ‘public debate under privilege’ Parliament had not discussed the issue of Australia’s military commitment to South Vietnam. Even if the Government had 62


been unsure of its intentions until Rusk clarified them, no discussion of the issue had taken place during the final week of Parliament. Journalists’ reliance on being able to gain copy on issues at Question Time was denied because there were no questions asked on the issue, reported Brown.150 In fact, this was an exaggeration or oversight by Brown. Questions had been asked in Question Time but had failed to produce extra information and the Opposition had not demanded special debate on the issue. Brown reported the attempt by William Wentworth, a Liberal MP, to get the House to debate defence before it adjourned but the Prime Minister asserted that the business of the House, decided by Opposition and Government, made it impossible. Menzies ‘left it open for the Opposition to raise the matter if it wanted to. And it could have done so in the adjournment debate of Thursday night. Nothing happened’.151 The significance of this was missed by other press gallery journalists, or perhaps noticed and deliberately not questioned. In such an unquestioning environment among press gallery journalists, and with an indifferent Opposition response, Government control over information, even to its own party, was increased. A clear indictment of Opposition interest in Australia’s commitment was reported by one press gallery journalist. Brown’s lone voice, on 12 May, produced no political response. The increasingly inadequate communication from the Government was recognised by the Age on 22 May, two days before the official announcement of military aid to Vietnam. It attacked the Government on a number of issues related to military involvement and its lack of information on that decision with Parliament adjourned and the PM and Minister for Defence about to leave on overseas trips.152 There had still been ‘no considered policy statement from the Government on the important commitments which are in the wind— and will be on the ground by the time Parliament reassembles’. The criticism was prophetic. The Age accepted the notion of Australian soldiers dying in Vietnam or elsewhere in South-East Asia: ‘Our long standing obligation to the South East Asia Treaty Organisation has always bound us to accept the contingency of war’.153 It questioned the fact that intervention of Australian troops was being considered because of initiatives from the United States, ‘outside the context of the British Commonwealth’. From this the Age deduced a change in foreign affairs policy that defined the decision to send soldiers as a political rather than a purely military requirement. This point—vital Committing Military Advisers

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in hindsight—was, as in the decision of April 1965, stated but its implications were not elaborated upon. The editorial noted the increasing speculation that more than ‘a handful’ of men would be sent to Vietnam and demanded more information and clarification from the Government. In conclusion the Age appeared to back down on any perceived opposition to the decision by describing a stand with America in an ‘area vital to our security’ as ‘obviously a good one’:154 The problem was the uncertain and piecemeal way in which Australia’s intentions have emerged. At this stage, a rounded statement of the Government’s assessment of what is developing into a complex and far-reaching undertaking would be welcome.155 The editorial in the SMH on 23 May was related to SEATO obligations in Thailand. It supported Australian military aid to Thailand as a demonstration to Thailand that SEATO was still operational and to America ‘that Australia has the will, even if the means are inadequate, to fulfil its treaty commitments, and it will increase-politically more than militarily—the deterrent to a Communist expansionist adventure’.156 Even the editorial’s heading, ‘Australia will be there’, suggested a crusade mentality.

The Official Announcement The announcement of the commitment of advisers to South Vietnam was made on 24 May in a statement released by Minister for Defence, Townley. This official announcement and the reported, but yet-to-be confirmed, Vietnamese request for assistance came after the adjournment of Parliament on 17 May. According to newspapers, the request for Australia’s advisers from South Vietnam was received in Canberra on 18 May. Australian newspapers carried the contents of Townley’s statement on 25 May. The Australian public was, as a result, informed that Australia was sending thirty, not three or four, advisers to Vietnam. These would not be combat troops. The role of the instructors would be ‘to assist in the training of the people of Vietnam and so help them to defeat the Vietcong communists, whose aim is to take over that country by organised terrorism’.157 The Government response was ‘in accordance with Australia’s obligations’ under SEATO. 64


Colonel F. P. Serong, who was placed in command of the contingent of advisers, would go to Saigon to ascertain further details of the advisers’ role but the statement did not say that he would be in command of the advisers and no press comment indicated that this had not been made clear. Importantly, the Government announcement described the problem in Vietnam as one ‘of communist infiltration and insurgency which is fomented, directed and supported from North Vietnam’, thus officially affirming its adherence to the war as an ‘invasion’. The statement also emphasised the Government’s adherence to the domino theory. The press did not treat the statement from Townley as a frontpage lead although it was reported on page one in three Australian dailies.158 Apart from the significant increase in the number of men to be sent, although the numbers four and five had already been the subject of press scepticism, the statement held little that was new. The gradual release of information had ensured that an intensive press coverage of Australia’s decision had occurred before the announcement and that coverage left little new to report when the decision became official. The Age had forecast the likelihood of an announcement being made between parliamentary sessions. The realisation of that forecast and the lack of any further press investigation of Government intent, owed something to the understanding of both press and politicians about the practice of political reporting. Menzies, with his usual astute control of public information, had a major press conference to discuss his overseas agenda on 23 May. In 113 paragraphs of the full reported text of the Prime Minister’s conference, only three related, and then only in a general South-East Asian context, to Vietnam.159 Two final commentaries following the decision announced on 24 May deserve consideration. The Age, while repeating some criticisms of the Government raised in earlier editorials in May, dropped the ambiguity that had characterised these criticisms and forthrightly attacked salient aspects of Government Vietnam policy. Its editorial on 29 May contained a confidence of viewpoint that would more readily distinguish commentary at the time of Australia’s first public decision to withdraw, in December 1969, than in the middle years of escalation. The editorial noted the Opposition’s reluctance to provide a policy statement on the issues raised. The notion that the increased commitment from a ‘handful’ to thirty advisers who would not be Committing Military Advisers

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involved in fighting was dismissed with the comment, ‘the war in Vietnam has no particular pity for non-combatants’. The Age reverted again to defining the war as ‘civil’ and challenged the validity of SEATO as the basis for intervention: If the American experience is any guide, our men will have to defend themselves. This commitment, which is perhaps the most far-reaching as it involves direct intervention in a civil war, is not undertaken as an obligation to the SouthEast Asia Treaty Organisation.160 A week earlier the Age had accepted the possible loss of Australian lives as a contingency of war because the Government was bound to honour the obligations of SEATO. This later editorial also indicated a belief that Australian soldiers would suffer casualties but made no comment now on the morality of that potential sacrifice, having removed its previous justification. While still unwilling to deny that intervention was right the Age reiterated its concern for public understanding of the reasons for the decision. It could not be said, claimed the Age: that the Australian public has been advised of the reasons for this important step. At the moment, we seem only to be following an American initiative. This may be excellent sense, but it is not a policy. Both Mr. Menzies and Sir Garfield Barwick are now abroad. The danger is that in their absence and with Parliament in recess, Australian public opinion will lag behind the facts, which have so far been revealed in an unpromising piecemeal way.161 Important claims were also made by the Herald’s political reporter, Cox. Barwick was accused of turning Australia’s foreign policy into ‘a one man business … British foreign policy is not the influence here that it has been lately’.162 According to Cox, Barwick was personally responsible for the decision to send advisers, neither ‘the Vietnamese nor the Americans had asked us to help when he made the decision’, which had been proposed well in advance of the ANZUS meeting although endorsed there. ‘Sir Garfield virtually invited the Vietnamese to ask our specialists to join their cause. They 66


responded as he intended.’163 Commentary was raising significant considerations but the newsworthiness and impact had passed with the loss of related front-page news reports and a sitting parliament to pursue them. There was virtually no further coverage of the decision, or of the men who left from Mascot on 29 July 1962. As Ian McNeill wrote, in his history of the Australian advisers in Vietnam, the advisers were ‘farewelled by a small, lonely group of families and friends. Australia’s entry into the Vietnam war was barely noticed by the press or public.’164 The press had responded to the decision to send Australian advisers to South Vietnam but its consistency had been limited by the lack of any public response and the absence of a political debate, reinforced by the announcement being made official during the parliamentary adjournment.

Australia’s Self-Interest The information that emerged during press coverage of the decision illustrated Australia’s self-interest as a motivation for commitment. The American context of all deliberation, both press and official, was evident. The political rather than military determinant of Australia’s commitment was recognised but the implications had not yet been fully realised. Oversimplified comment on the nature of the war was being partly balanced by the copy of South-East Asian correspondents. Williams raised issues that deserved reflection in May 1962 but the views of an individual journalist rated low against the widely and prominently published views of politicians with the democratic power to direct policy. The lack of any public reaction, save one small report, significantly entitled ‘Protest’, the publication of one article by an Australian academic in the Daily Telegraph, and three published letters, indicated that the Australian public had not responded to Australia’s decision to become militarily involved in Vietnam, despite the valuable and insightful questioning of some specialist journalists and editorialists. Official Government pronouncements were carried without question, more often than not as news reports on the front page. Editorials, in many instances, challenged the information of frontpage news reports. The Age was the most consistent critic of Government statements. While some editorials and specialist reports from Canberra clearly indicated the lack of planning in the Government’s decision no investigative journalism revealed that Committing Military Advisers

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public announcements ran ahead of official acceptance by Cabinet of the detail of Australia’s undertaking. However, individual editorials had challenged important aspects of Australia’s commitment. The Age, although inconsistently, had defined the war as ‘civil’, rejected the SEATO justification for involvement and accentuated the American dominance of Australia’s decision-making. The CourierMail had challenged the need for a military commitment and refused, like all papers, to believe that Australian advisers could be ‘non-combatant’ in the conflict environment of South Vietnam. The West Australian had warned that the decision to send advisers would lead to escalation of Australia’s commitment. Undertones of how or where British interests and influence could be balanced against the overwhelming acceptance of America as Australia’s ally flowed intermittently in and out of editorial and specialist commentary. In May 1962, with the presence of Rusk and Felt in Australia, the public would readily have associated Australia’s commitment as loyalty to its protector and friend. There was little reason to expect public disquiet about the strengthening of this relationship despite the organised failure to inform the public accurately and allow debate of the decision in Parliament. The Government had balanced public levels of information well to reduce discussion. American influence, through Rusk, had also determined newspaper priorities. Although a number of commentators noted this, and decried the lack of an explained basis for commitment of advisers, the Government was not effectively or consistently pressed to provide more. The importance of raising issues and debating them during parliamentary sessions is evidenced by the management of the official release of the decision to send advisers after the parliamentary session had adjourned. The political nature of the decision and the rapidity with which soldiers were committed concentrated responsibility for reporting on press gallery journalists. When the parliamentary session ended and Menzies and Barwick, the two key politicians for maintaining the newsworthiness of the decision, swiftly exited Australia, reporting related to Vietnam declined by 66 per cent165, despite the fact that the official announcement came during this period. This indicates a reliance on Parliament for the continuation of comment and release of information. The reporting of a Vietnamese request appears to have required no written Government press release or documentation. The official 68


response from the Vietnamese Ambassador that South Vietnam did not need combat troops initiated no response. The coverage examined illustrates that South Vietnam was the new element involved in Australian foreign policy. It had received little press coverage due to a perceived or real lack of public and or press interest. This was accentuated by the lack of interest in Australia for the Asian context of the decision and therefore the ability of foreign correspondents to attract or maintain newsworthy attention through commentary and reporting. A perfect situation was created for political dominance in setting the agenda for the flow of public information. The need for press vigilance in the publication of political announcements in a context devoid of supportive or alternative comment is vital when viewed from the examination of Australia’s decision to become militarily involved in Vietnam in May 1962.

Notes Hon. Athol Townley (Minister for Defence), Australian military instructors for South Vietnam, ministerial press release no. 562, 24 May 1962. 2 Hallin, The ‘Uncensored War’, pp. 63–75. 3 Wicker, On Press: A Top Reporter’s Life in, and Reflections on, American Journalism, p. 3. 4 Hallin, The ‘Uncensored War’, p. 79. 5 See Payne, ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War’, vol. 2, Appendix II, Analysis table ‘Committing Advisers, 1962’, p. 30. 6 ibid. This was over twenty-four days (7–31 May 1962), although very little was reported after 25 May. The statistic is based on the percentage of editorials to news, feature and commentary reports. 7 Barwick, ‘Australia’s Foreign Relations’, p. 4. 8 ibid. 9 ibid., pp. 4–5. 10 Watt, Vietnam: An Australian Analysis, p. 133. See, for example, Kolko, Anatomy of a War: Vietnam, the United States and the Modern Historical Experience. 11 Barwick, ‘Australia’s Foreign Relations’, p. 5. 12 ibid. 13 In an article in the Age, 29 April 1990, Sir John Gorton, a Senator in 1965 and Prime Minister from 1968 to 1971, recalled that ‘large sections of the population and the press’ initially had no problem with Government policy on Vietnam. ‘Harold Holt won an election on staying there—won it magnificently. And it seemed to indicate that the population were thoroughly in favour of what we were doing there.’ 14 Albinski, Australian External Policy under Labor: Content, Process and the National Debate, p. 3. 15 Lowe, Commonwealth and Communism: Australian Policies Towards South East Asia in the Cold War, 1949–54, p. 8. 1


69

16 17 18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26 27

28

29

70

ibid., p. 1. ibid., pp. 13–14. In analysing the ‘first Laos crisis’ in 1959, and Australia’s consideration of military intervention, Edwards makes the observation that ‘The public perception was probably that Australia leaned slightly towards the British attitude, whereas the Cabinet records indicate that in fact Australia regarded American policy as “crucial”, while British support was merely “desirable”.’ (Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, p. 216) Edwards based his comment on Cabinet decision 442, 8 September 1959, vol. 2, CRS A4943, AA. Edwards notes Australia’s determination to justify involvement under SEATO but exemplifies a different criterion. ‘Cabinet preferred that any Australian intervention should be part of a SEATO force, because it did not wish to be part of a conflict in Asia “which would be almost exclusively between whites and coloured”, and it noted that forces should only be sent at the request of the country which the forces were to enter.’ (Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, p. 241) ‘Frank talks when ANZUS delegates meet’, Age, 7 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 2; ‘Big issues in ANZUS talks’, Herald, 7 May 1962, editorial, p. 4. See also ‘ANZUS in Canberra’, Courier-Mail, 7 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. This editorial explained the beginnings of SEATO. ‘Frank talks when ANZUS delegates meet’, Age, 7 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 2. Thomson’s opinion was sought on Allied intervention in Vietnam. In 1969 his assessment would influence Nixon’s accelerated withdrawal from South Vietnam. Thomson had been a key figure in the Malaysia conflict and had influenced the unsuccessful attempt to repeat Malaysian experience by the establishment of strategic hamlets in South Vietnam. For confirmation of his involvement in the 1962 decision, see McNeill, To Long Tan: The Australian Army and the Vietnam War 1950–1966, p. 35. Renouf, The Frightened Country, p. 252. Frost (Australia’s War in Vietnam, p. 14) places the beginning of Australia’s consideration of military involvement as October 1961 and relates this to information in discussion of the beginnings of involvement in Australia’s Military Commitment to Vietnam (AMCV), an official report compiled at the request of the Australian Government in 1975 and tabled in the House of Representatives on Tuesday, 13 May 1975. Renouf served in twelve Australian missions overseas and was Secretary of the Department of Foreign Affairs from 1973 to 1976. According to Renouf this was for political rather than military reasons, to please the Kennedy administration. (The Frightened Country, p. 252) ibid. ‘Frank talks when ANZUS delegates meet’, Age, 7 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 2. This journalist would probably have been John Bennetts, but unless a byline has been used, the journalist’s name is not used. ‘Frank talks when ANZUS delegates meet’, Age, 7 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 2.


30 31

32 33 34 35 36

37 38

39 40 41

42 43 44

45 46 47 48 49 50 51

52 53

54

55

56

57

58 59 60

D. Warner, Interview with author. D. Warner, ‘Australia and U.S. in plain talk on our aid to Asia’, Herald, 7 May 1962, p. 7. ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid. ‘Chance for plain speaking’, Age, 7 May 1962, editorial, p. 2; ‘Blunt speaking needed at ANZUS’, SMH, 7 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ‘Chance for plain speaking’, Age, 7 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. This comment was related as much to economic as to defence issues. ‘Blunt speaking needed at ANZUS’, SMH, 7 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ibid. ‘Clouds in our friendship with the United States’, West Australian, 7 May 1962, editorial, p. 6. ibid. ‘Australia to aid Vietnam with equipment’, Age, 8 May 1962, p. 1 lead. For example, ‘ANZUS council prelude £3m. allotted in Asia’, Advertiser, 8 May 1962; ‘Australians aid Vietnam with equipment. Part of £3m. SEATO plan’, Age, 8 May 1962, page one lead. ‘Portents and responsibilities’, Advertiser, 8 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ‘Australian aid to Vietnam’, Age, 8 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘First aid to Asia’, Herald, 8 May 1962, editorial, p. 4. E. H. Cox, ‘Vietnam force—quick “yes” likely’, Herald, 9 May 1962, p. 3. W. Brown, Interview with author. ibid. When asked if he believed journalists were being conditioned to accept an announcement on Australian military aid in Vietnam, Brown answered, ‘Oh, yes, absolutely’. ibid. See, for example, ‘ANZUS—Good start but decisions “secret” ’, Advertiser, 9 May 1965, p. 1. ‘Frank talks when ANZUS delegates meet’, Age, 7 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 2. M. C. Uren, ‘Effect of ANZUS decisions on W.A. defences’, West Australian, 12 May 1962, ‘Canberra Diary’, p. 4; W. Brown, ‘Dean Rusk, man of the moment’, Courier-Mail, 12 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 3. Brown’s fear of press gallery experience was misplaced. While it can only be conjecture, perhaps his insight owed something to the fact that he was a new press gallery journalist. W. Brown, ‘Dean Rusk, man of the moment’, Courier-Mail, 12 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 3. M. C. Uren, ‘Effect of ANZUS decisions on W.A. defences’, West Australian, 12 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 4. Mercury, 8 May 1962. ibid. Edwards claims that the ‘Australian Government was so anxious to have


71

61 62 63 64 65

66

67

68 69

70 71 72

73

74

75 76

77 78

79 80 81

82

72

American support in South-East Asia that it was determined to let nothing stand in the way of the North West Cape station’. The decision to establish the base had been made by Cabinet a week before ANZUS. (Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, pp. 238–9) Rusk’s determination to centralise discussion on Vietnam suggests American anxiety to ‘let nothing stand’ in its way. Current Notes on International Affairs (CNIA), vol. 33, no. 5, pp. 12–19. ibid., p. 16. ibid., pp. 12–19. ‘Rusk calls for aid in Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 10 May 1962, p. 1. ‘Red aggression. Gangster war in S-E Asia. Call for more help’, Daily Telegraph, 10 May 1962, p. 1. ‘If South Vietnam asks … Australia will send aid’, Advertiser, 10 May 1962, p. 1. This was shown by the presence of the press gallery, and more specifically, in 1962, by the weekly or daily columns reporting the news from Canberra. For example, ‘This Week in Canberra’ in the Courier-Mail; ‘Capital Talk’ in the West Australian; ‘In Federal Parliament’, published daily during parliamentary sittings in the Daily Telegraph. CNIA, vol. 33, no. 5, p. 17. Woodard, Asian Alternatives: Australia’s Vietnam Decision and Lessons on Going to War. ‘Australian help to Vietnam’, Age, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. Renouf, The Frightened Country, pp. 252, 253. Edwards, ‘Some Reflections on the Australian Government’s Commitment to the Vietnam War’, in J. Grey and J. Doyle (eds), Vietnam: War, Myth and Memory, p. 7. Edward’s source is cited as Cabinet decision 204, 1 May 1962, CS file C3568, CRS 4940/1, AA. Herald, 7 May 1962. As mentioned earlier, Rusk would say to Barwick: ‘We would like to know what Australia proposes to contribute to the effort in South Vietnam’. Barwick would reply to Rusk: ‘And we would like to know if you are prepared to go to the limit in aiding South Vietnam against the Viet Cong Communist forces’. ‘If South Vietnam asks … Australia will send aid’, Advertiser, 10 May 1962, p. 1. ‘Army experts for Vietnam. “If asked” ’, SMH, 10 May 1962, p. 1. ‘Barwick pledges military aid, “If they ask for it” ’, Courier-Mail, 10 May 1962, p. 1. ‘Army experts for Vietnam. “If asked” ’, SMH, 10 May 1962, p. 1. As in other aspects of the issue, individual journalists and individual newspaper comment were providing not only the public, but also other journalists with questions to ponder. ‘Army experts for Vietnam. “If asked” ’, SMH, 10 May 1962, p. 1. ibid. ‘Barwick pledges military aid, “If they ask for it” ‘, Courier-Mail, 10 May 1962, p. 1. ‘If South Vietnam asks … Australia will send aid’, Advertiser, 10 May 1962, p. 1.


83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91

92 93 94

95 96 97

98

99

ibid. ‘Govt. plan to show the flag in Vietnam’, Herald, 10 May 1962, p. 4. ‘Aid for Vietnam’, Courier-Mail, 10 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ibid. See, for example, Advertiser, 9 May 1962, p. 1; Herald, 9 May 1962, p. 11. Marr, Barwick, p. 177. ‘Australian help to Vietnam’, Age, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ‘ANZUS partnership has been strengthened’, West Australian, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 6. ‘Australian help to Vietnam’, Age, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, p. 241. The fact that the Americans had asked was not disguised by Edwards although the comment, ‘It (Cabinet) noted that the only request so far was for instructors’, could be misread in the context as referring to either an American or South Vietnam request. See also McNeill, To Long Tan, pp. 37–8. ‘Australian help to Vietnam’, Age, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. Renouf, The Frightened Country, p. 253. ‘There was no need to obtain a request as it had already been made. However the initial request came from the US and it was the US which first informed South Vietnam of Australia’s decision. The invocation was spurious as involvement required consultation within S.E.A.T.O. and there was no such consultation because it would not have produced agreement.’ See also AMCV, p. 22: ‘The fact is apparent that Australian troops were not sent to Vietnam as part of a S. E.A.T.O. operation or as a result of consultations among the S.E.A.T.O. powers as a treaty organisation.’ It should be remembered that Menzies justified Australia’s intervention by dividing responsibilities into ‘individual’ and ‘collective’ responsibilities. He wrote ‘My Government took the view that, the obligation of individual members being joint and several, we could not avoid our treaty obligations by making our performance dependent upon the action of any other party’. (Menzies, The Measure of the Years, p. 57) ‘ANZUS partnership has been strengthened’, West Australian, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 6. The legality of New Zealand’s use of SEATO as justification is discussed in terms of international law and the relationship between the United Nations Charter and SEATO in a study by Rupert Granville Glover, barrister and solicitor of the High Court of New Zealand and lecturer in Public International Law, University of Canterbury. The justification of New Zealand was based on the same premise as Australia’s justification and Glover concluded that ‘New Zealand’s reliance on the treaty was a matter of politics rather than of law … the legality and the morality of an action can be quite separate issues. Those who condemn New Zealand for its role in the war on moral grounds, should nevertheless be grateful that illegality was not added to immorality.’ (Glover, New Zealand in Vietnam: A Study of


73

100 101 102 103

104

105

106 107 108

109 110 111 112 113 114 115

116 117 118 119

120 121

122 123 124 125

126 127

128 129

130 131 132

74

the Use of Force in International Law, p. 57) ‘Australia’s weakness at ANZUS talks’, SMH, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ibid. ‘Our part in the defence of freedom’, Daily Telegraph, 10 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. For example, ‘Army experts for Vietnam. “If asked” ’, SMH, 10 May 1962, p. 1. E. H. Cox, ‘Government plan to show our flag in Vietnam’, Herald, 10 May 1962, p. 2. ‘Aid for Vietnam’, Courier-Mail, 10 May 1962, p. 2. ibid. W. Brown, ‘Dean Rusk, man of the moment’, Courier-Mail, 12 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 3. ‘Australian help to Vietnam’, Age, 11 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ‘Diplomacy in Laos crisis’, Age, 16 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. Burgess, Warco: Australian Reporters at War, p. 82. ibid., pp. 83–4. R. Hughes, ‘Our token force to “stand fast” ’, Courier-Mail, 10 May 1962, p. 3. ibid. R. Hughes, ‘The “liberators” of South Vietnam’, West Australian, 10 May 1962, p. 4. ibid. ibid. Frost, Australia’s War in Vietnam, p. 6. D. Warner, ‘South Vietnam is our concern; Why is Australia getting involved in the Vietnam War?’, Herald, 12 May 1962, p. 4. ibid. Williams had been reporting from Asia since before 1959. His reports appeared often in ‘Saturday Review’ in the Herald, where Warner’s articles also appeared. J. Williams, ‘We run new risks in Asia now’, Herald, 26 May 1962, p. 4. ibid. ibid. D. Warner, ‘Australia and U.S. in plain talk on our aid to Asia’, Herald, 7 May 1962, p. 7. J. Williams, ‘We run new risks in Asia now’, Herald, 26 May 1962, p. 4. For example, Herald, 7 May 1962. Creighton Burns, the South-East Asian correspondent for the Age, also attempted to inform readers of the misconceptions about the war in Vietnam during 1964. See, for example, Age, 15 October 1964. J. Williams, ‘We run new risks in Asia now’, Herald, 26 May 1962, p. 4. Hon. Athol Townley (Minister for Defence), Australian military instructors for South Vietnam. J. Williams, ‘We run new risks in Asia now’, Herald, 26 May 1962, p. 4. D. Warner, ‘South Vietnam is our concern’, Herald, 12 May 1962, p. 4. There were two articles in the Daily Telegraph on 10 May that attempted to add to readers’ understanding of the conflict. One article by Emery Barcs


133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147

148 149 150

151 152 153 154 155 156 157

158 159

160 161 162

163 164 165

gave a brief background to the situation there and there was an ‘On the spot’ report from an American reporter, Joseph Alsop, regarded by Braestrup, another American journalist, as a pro-American interventionist with very close ties to the American Embassy in Saigon and the CIA. See Braestrup, Big Story, pp. 4, 58–60. Alsop’s article carried a very positive assessment of the strategic hamlet program in South Vietnam. ‘Thus far, in this province (Vinh Binh) no strategic hamlet has failed to resist the Communists, even when the attack was relatively massive.’ (Daily Telegraph, 10 May 1962) ‘Aid to Vietnam hailed by U.S.’, Canberra Times, 12 May 1962, p. 1. ibid. ibid. ‘Australia slated’, Advertiser, 12 May 1962, p. 1. ‘Combat troops “not needed” ’, SMH, 11 May 1962, p. 1. ‘Steps to aid Vietnam’, Advertiser, 11 May 1962, p. 1. ‘Australia’s offer accepted by Vietnam’, Age, 19 May 1962, page one lead. Sexton, War for the Asking: Australia’s Vietnam Secrets, p. 109. ibid. Cairns, ‘Labor, Defending Liberties’. CPD, HR 34, 5 April 1962, p. 1459. ibid. ibid., p. 2077. ibid. W. Brown, ‘Dean Rusk, man of the moment’, Courier-Mail, 12 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 3. ibid. ‘Australia’s case abroad’, West Australian, 18 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. W. Brown, ‘Defence questions left unanswered’, Courier-Mail, 19 May 1962, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 3. ibid. ‘Foreign policy changes’, Age, 22 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ibid. ibid., p. 2. ‘Australia will be there’, SMH, 23 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. Hon. Athol Townley (Minister for Defence), Australian military instructors for South Vietnam. The SMH, Courier-Mail and Age. ‘P.M.’s press conference in full’, Age, 24 May 1962, p. 6. The press asked no direct questions about Vietnam and Menzies initiated no interest himself in reply. ‘Commitments in Asia’, Age, 29 May 1962, editorial, p. 2. ibid. E. H. Cox, ’Sir Garfield has new notions’, Herald, 26 May 1962, ‘Capital Talk’, p. 9. ibid. McNeill, The Team: Australian Army Advisers in Vietnam 1962–1972, p. 14. This figure is approximate, based on reporting in the database for May 1962.


75

For the period 7–18 May, total reportage was 1398 paragraphs, compared to reporting in the eleven days following, 440 paragraphs. (See Payne, ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War’, vol. 2, Appendix II, Analysis table, ‘Committing Advisers, 1962’, pp. 22–30.)

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3

Committing a Battalion, April 1965

Between 1962 and 1965, Australia’s sense of insecurity had been intensified by a number of significant developments, including the increasing fear of Indonesian intentions in the Pacific and continuing conflict in South-East Asia.1 The assassination of President Diem in November 1963 had focused publicity on the political instability in South Vietnam. In August 1964, the ‘Gulf of Tonkin’ incident had led to new levels of military response by Americans in Vietnam when American destroyers, USS Maddox and USS C. Turner Joy, were reportedly attacked by North Vietnamese torpedo boats. On 5 August America retaliated with strikes against military targets and torpedo bases in North Vietnam. The incident involved clever manipulation by President Johnson of public information. Daniel Hallin was one of the first academics to analyse the American Government’s manipulation of information to escalate war in South Vietnam: The Gulf of Tonkin incident was a classic of Cold War news management. Through its public statements, its management of information, and its action … The administration was able to define or ‘frame’ the situation in such a way that its action appeared beyond the scope of political controversy.2

The manipulation of information and events helped to lead to the acceptance by Congress of the ‘Gulf of Tonkin’ Resolution on 11 August, which endorsed presidential freedom in decisions to repel or prevent attacks on American personnel and members of SEATO in South-East Asia. In Australia, the introduction of national service on 10 November 19643 and a build-up of defence expenditure were indicative of Australia’s growing emphasis on security. On 29 April 1965 Menzies announced that Australia would send a battalion to South Vietnam.4 Press disclosure of the decision before the announcement in Parliament was used to justify the timing of the official announcement to the House of Representatives, where neither the Leader nor Deputy Leader of the Opposition were present. The metropolitan dailies responded to the decision with a multiplicity of reports that reflected a more informed public perception of the conflict in Vietnam in 1965 than had existed in 1962. Public response was registered in the news reports rather than in the editorials and commentary published in newspapers. Despite the dominance of the American alliance and the domino theory, both subject to consistent press reiteration, other concerns also emerged. China’s intentions in South-East Asia and the role it might play in any escalation of conflict in South Vietnam was a recognisable issue in press coverage, as was a view from some Australians that economic uncertainties had played their part in ensuring Australia’s military support for America in Vietnam. The study of immediate coverage to send a battalion to South Vietnam indicates that the press did and could respond to the breadth and diversity of communication from a variety of sources. The press response to participants within the communication process varied according to their perceived importance as a source, but Australian dailies did reflect the divided nature of public opinion concerning Australia’s increased military commitment to Vietnam. The intensity of opinion in press coverage nevertheless camouflaged not only the level of indifference that also existed in Australia, but the inability of journalism to reflect it. While only the Australian newspaper consistently opposed the Government’s decision to send troops to Vietnam, the basis of Australia’s involvement—the need to cement an Australian-American alliance—remained unchallenged by anyone. This problem for all in the Australian communication process is clearly defined by Tiffen in 78


his assertion of the restrictions of what he termed the ‘political-cumjournalistic pathologies of being a junior ally’: The twin fears of offending the ally and of being left alone to face an overwhelming enemy paralysed any independent questioning of perceptions of Vietnam.5 From this context, development of argument against the decision was forced into a moral arena where it was weakened by a publicly advanced criticism of a perceived hypocritical stance. If America was right to be in Vietnam, and Australia accepted the need for a defensive alliance with America, then a decision not to support America’s involvement with actions rather than words, in an area the Government designated as vital to Australia’s security, became difficult to defend. The increasing repetition in press commentary that the decision to send troops was a political rather than a militarily based decision was significant but the failure of the majority of journalists who raised the issue to clarify why it was important lessened its impact. The view that Australia’s security was threatened by events in South-East Asia, specifically in South Vietnam, enhanced the military balance in the policy of involvement and negated understanding of the political basis of escalation. It was not until 1969, when the majority of commentators removed the premise of Australia’s involvement—that Vietnam was vital to our security—that the repercussions of political dominance in Australia’s involvement would be clarified. Despite increased questioning of Australia’s role in Vietnam, the subservience of all comment to Australia’s relationship with America weakened meaningful debate on the possibility of an alternative policy. The most important consequence was press rejection of the Opposition’s stance opposing escalation.

‘Conditioning the Public’ before 29 April Graham Freudenberg, a principal adviser and speech writer for Opposition Leader Arthur Calwell at this time, argues that the conditioning of the public started in January 1965 when Senator Shane Paltridge, the Defence Minister, went to South-East Asia.6 Freudenberg substantiates this point by quoting editorials in the Age and the SMH on 20 January 1965, which supported the lines that the Department of External Affairs wanted publicly accepted. These were that Vietnam Committing a Battalion

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was ‘our fight’ and that Australia had a role in South Vietnam to stop the ‘downward sweep of China into South East Asia’.7 Earlier examples could be cited just as readily to prove public conditioning. One clear example was the reporting that preceded and followed the decisions to introduce national service and increase defence expenditure. When Calwell opposed the introduction of national service the SMH accused him of putting party politics above patriotic concerns ‘in a time of most serious danger’.8 The Age wrote, ‘These threatening times call for a maximum of clear thinking and responsibility and a minimum of political expediency and opportunism’.9 More attention should be paid to the ease with which the media can label political responses as ‘opportunistic’. The United States’ connection was provided by the Herald’s editorial. To carry out the minimum tasks that our own security and our obligations to our allies demand, we need a larger regular army than voluntary enlistment is giving us. Our main partner is the United States, whose people have for long accepted the drafting of young men to defence service.10 It is easy to document press acceptance of the Government’s determination of the need for Australia to develop its defence capabilities. But other voices were emerging in press reports that challenged this seeming press acquiescence to the Government line. In the period immediately before Menzies’ announcement in 1965 there was evidence in press coverage of a questioning of his lack of support for a negotiated settlement in Vietnam.11 As Pemberton and Sexton both point out, negotiations of a different kind were secretly taking place in Canberra with the intention of increasing Australian military commitments to South Vietnam.12 Henry Cabot Lodge, President Johnson’s representative, visited Australia in April. The press accepted that Australian policy in Vietnam was about to undergo change. According to official historian Peter Edwards, Lodge’s visit was unwelcome to Menzies who knew that his presence could lead to misinterpretation of the decision by the press, that the sending of a battalion was the result of an American request. Pemberton noted the ‘unfortunate timing’ of Lodge’s visit because of Menzies’ announcement of escalation in Vietnam and Australia’s demand for special consideration from America following its 80


intention to tighten the flow of American money overseas. ‘Though Lodge had certainly come to Australia to convey Johnson’s desire for greater support in Vietnam, it is difficult to accept that the ‘ “dollars for diggers” argument really applies,’ asserted Pemberton.13 Menzies understood that there was a public perception that Australian policy in Vietnam was directly linked to American direction. Given that the Government had sought acceptance of its Vietnam policy largely on the necessity of strengthening the American alliance, it was important for Menzies to publicly establish the line of differentiation between American partnership and American direction in the formulation of that policy. Newspapers reported Menzies’ denial in Parliament of any connection between the decision and Lodge’s visit.14 The need to publicly separate the two had been exemplified in editorial consideration of the committing of advisers in 1962. Although Menzies’ concern was warranted, if the press did misinterpret the significance of Lodge’s visit, as Edwards claimed, the basis of press perceptions about American visitors and possible policy changes produced legitimate conclusions about why Australia’s effort in Vietnam was about to be increased. After Menzies’ announcement of 29 April the correlation between it and Lodge’s visit was raised in the press and in Parliament. Even before the official announcenment, the Courier-Mail in its editorial on 22 April entitled ‘Our policy in Vietnam’ clearly saw that the Australian Government intended to increase its military commitments in Vietnam: The statements issued in Canberra after the visit of President Johnson’s representative, Mr Henry Cabot Lodge, followed the classic pattern of such communications. They revealed little beyond the fact that harmonious talks were held.15 With total acceptance of Government silence on the issue the editorial continued: This very proper reticence, based on the requirements of public ‘security’, should not however be permitted to disguise the importance of the Lodge mission.16

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The reasons why Lodge had to convey America’s message personally was probably because the ‘news of Vietnam developments’ was ‘too important for routine diplomatic channels’.17 In at least an acknowledgement of the necessity or wisdom of Australia following the US militarily into Vietnam with the possibility of upsetting Asian neighbours the Courier-Mail concluded that ‘it is less risky in the long run to support a powerful ally such as America, than to forfeit that allies’ [sic] support’.18 The lack of public information and input into the decision to commit troops to South Vietnam was considered in only one editorial. After the revelation by Menzies that troops would be sent, the Australian asserted that the public had a right to be informed and its opinions listened to. This represented an idealistic plea that the theory of democracy be practised. The content of its criticism was related to the information Menzies had about public opinion before 29 April. Under the heading ‘P.M. shows contempt for public’, the Australian complained that ‘the Prime Minister … has once more shown his contempt for public opinion. The conduct of the war has split the nation.’19 This statement, in comparison with editorial comment, appeared to sensationalise dissent within the Australian community over the decision of 29 April. A study of the news reports and other reports within Australian papers indicated growing community disquiet with Government policy direction in South Vietnam before and after Menzies’ announcement. The limitations of that dissent, however, were represented in the reflections of Howson, Minister for Air. On 29 April he noted in his diary: ‘Politically this has divided the nation … ’, but his comment in brackets read ‘[I wonder if there are a few thoughts that we should hold a snap election on the issue]’, indicating thorough confidence in public support for the decision.20 The Australian pointed out that the Prime Minister had been aware of some questioning of Government pronouncements on Vietnam: The volume of correspondence in the press and the unprecedented letters he received from the bishops could have left him in no doubt about the strength of public opposition … it would have been fair to have attempted to 82


prepare the public for the decision, to have explained why any Australian involvement might be essential. As it was, both the public and members of Parliament were taken by surprise … 21 There is an assumption in these comments that public opinion can be conveyed through the media to the Prime Minister but the inference that the public could then have been ‘conditioned’ suggests political rather than public benefit from such coverage. The letters from the Anglican bishops protesting about Australia’s direction in Vietnam had been given extensive press coverage and, in a less direct way, Menzies had prepared Australians for his decision. He had used the press to do it. The secrecy that had surrounded discussions between Cabinet and Lodge on 20 April22, Menzies’ speeches, comments on his lack of support for a negotiated settlement in Vietnam at this time, and the opportunity the bishops’ letters (questioning the basic premises of Government policy in Vietnam) gave him to clearly state his case through the press, provided the ‘conditioning’ in the weeks before he made public his decision to send a battalion to Vietnam. Then Archbishop of Perth, George Appleton, recalls why he signed a letter of protest to Menzies: ‘We could do more to arrest the spread of Communism by friendly interest and generous help in Asian countries, and by so doing might help our American friends in their purpose of containing communism rather than by a token involvement in a war in which napalm and defoliation destruction were used in addition to the conventional methods’. 23 He believed that the Government’s decision about Vietnam was the result of its wish to gain American support now that Britain was reducing its defence support to Australia. During this period Menzies knew that the decision had already been made and, as he himself admitted with a clever turn of phrase that would be understood in hindsight, the bishops’ letters served ‘a valuable public purpose’. Edwards interpreted this ‘purpose’ in line with the Canberra Times’ assertion that the bishops’ letters ‘provoked the best debate on foreign policy Australia has heard for some time and drew from the Prime Minister a fuller and more reasonable statement of Australia’s views on Vietnam than he has recently given to the House’.24 Committing a Battalion

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Bishop Moyes, Anglican Bishop for Armidale, drafted a letter to Menzies on concerns related to the Government’s stance on the difficulty of a negotiated settlement in Vietnam. He sent it to all Anglican bishops, asking for supporters to sign. Thirteen bishops signed the first letter.25 Moyes claimed that the Government was not showing ‘willingness to bring about a settlement’.26 According to Moyes the Americans were not achieving anything in Vietnam and more than that, he claimed: ‘I don’t think the Vietnamese want the Americans to stay. The Americans agreed not to use any force or threat of force many years ago. Now they are doing so’.27 The letter wrote of international pressure for a negotiated peace.28 The bishops’ letter to Menzies acknowledged Australia’s debt to America and the moral obligation of Australia’s support of her ally but believed this was best served by helping to avoid an ‘extension of hostilities’.29 The bishops who signed the letter did not represent all Anglican bishops and the Anglican Primate of Australia and Archbishop of Sydney, Dr H. R. Gough, was a notable absentee.30 (Gough was an English bishop, the old practice of English Church leaders retaining the highest office in Australia in the Anglican Church persisting.) In response to the bishops’ letter, delegates from trade unions, churches and a variety of women’s organisations in Sydney arrived in Canberra on 17 March to support the bishops’ call for negotiated peace in Vietnam. The publicity given to the bishops’ letters led Menzies to reply publicly to the first letter. He indicated the impossibility of negotiating with North Vietnam and China.31 Menzies saw the letter as ‘advocating some form of political action on me and my colleagues in relation to the fighting in Vietnam’32 but he rejected the letter’s intent. Bishop McCall of Wangaratta was quick to respond to Menzies’ reply and his words indicated that some Australians were frustrated by the lack of information available on Vietnam. ‘It is precisely because the issues are so complicated and correct information so difficult to obtain that we do not wish to embarrass either the Prime Minister or his Government by suggesting any specific political action.’33 Menzies’ view that the Communists had ‘consistently violated’ the Geneva Conventions of 1954 was answered by the bishops with the comment that ‘Both North and South [Vietnam] and China and the United States have violated the agreement’.34 The bishops claimed that ‘If people want to be Communists, guns will not stop them’.35 84


The importance of such public statements was the expression of alternative ways of viewing the Vietnam conflict. On page one of the Age on 12 April was a report of another letter to Menzies from the Victorian Council of Churches endorsing ‘the principle and spirit’36 of the Anglican bishops’ correspondence. The letter acknowledged an American precedent, the appeal of 2500 American clergy to President Johnson seeking a peaceful settlement. While distancing itself from the letters of the Anglican bishops, the Australian Council of Churches added to public support for negotiations in a statement forwarded to Menzies after a meeting on 23 April.37 These reported responses indicated a growing demand from various Church representatives for Menzies to exercise caution in his public stance on the futility of negotiation at this time in Vietnam. The SMH denigrated the clergy response. It restated the Government’s line of argument on the impossibility of negotiations and the definition of the conflict as a war of aggression endorsed by Peking. It deemed the Prime Minister was justified to be indignant ‘that these influential leaders of a great Church, by refusing to face facts, and by begging—with their talk of “positive steps towards an honourable and peaceful settlement”—the chief questions raised by Communist aggression, should contribute to the unrealism in Australia about a struggle directly affecting our security’. The editorial stated that it was right for the clergy to involve themselves in issues that ‘directly affect the policies and reputation’ of Australia on one condition—‘That condition—of paramount importance in a world in which propaganda techniques are insidious and unscrupulous—is that the signatories of the letter should acquaint themselves with the facts of the situation’.38 This incredible attack on the clergy carried with it the message that it was not the Prime Minster’s role to inform the Australian public about the ‘facts of the situation’. At this crucial period in Australian public understanding of the Vietnam crisis, the SMH dismissed an earnest public demand for more information, framing that demand at best as unpatriotic. Declaring the bishops’ response unhelpful, the Advertiser also raised the issue of patriotism, describing the initiative as dangerous because whether it was ‘inspired by the highest ideals or having a radically different origin … it serves Communist ends’.39 The intent of both papers to associate an oppositional stance to Government policy as support for Communism, that implied a national disloyalty, Committing a Battalion

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illustrates the determination of these two papers to limit public debate. The debate between Menzies and the clergy continued, with many letters to the editor being published in newspapers, particularly the Age and the Advertiser, during late April and May.40 Menzies’ final reply came on 22 April. In it he was able to state clearly, through its publication in Australian newspapers41, his argument that intervention in Vietnam was justified. His reply evidenced a hostile approach to public criticism. To extend the audience for this debate between himself and members of the clergy, he issued a seventeenpage booklet, containing all the letters between himself and the bishops, entitled ‘Vietnam—Exchange of letters between the Prime Minister and the Rt. Rev. J. S. Moyes and certain archbishops and bishops’.42 He described the situation in South Vietnam as the result of ‘murderous subversion fomented and supported from the Communist North’.43 He quoted Johnson’s justification for American intervention: We fight because we must fight if we are to live in a world where every country can shape its own destiny.44 Menzies’ reply contained the now infamous pledge of Johnson: We will not be defeated. We will not withdraw, either openly or under the cloak of a meaningless agreement.45 The use of American justifications and American quotations of intent in Vietnam to substantiate all moral and practical concerns about Australian involvement, as well as the American comparisons in the Church letters, all indicate how dominating the American context of the Australian commitment was. Unwittingly the bishops had allowed Menzies to present to the Australian people through the press coverage of his reply an emotive justification for intervention in Vietnam, framed more as the slaughter of the innocent, than any realistic consideration of the nature of the war. Newspaper editorials did not challenge the assumptions on which Menzies justified his position on Vietnam in 1965. It was the clergy who initiated the use of the press, recognising its communication value to carry messages to a mass audience and their demands 86


for information were given wider consideration because of the Prime Minister’s public response. Because a prime minister’s utterances are carried as front-page news, Menzies’ claim that the debate between him and the bishops had ‘served a valuable public purpose’ could better be written as a service to Menzies, provided by the press. The letters were sent to Britain and America, replacing the need for a letter from Menzies to Johnson on a ‘strong military policy in Vietnam’ because ‘Menzies’ letter to the bishops had served to reassure the Americans of firm Australian support’.46

Announcing the Sending of a Battalion At 8 p.m. on 29 April 1965 Menzies announced in Parliament the Government’s decision to commit a battalion to South Vietnam in response to a South Vietnamese request. Neither Calwell, nor his deputy, Whitlam, were present. Having been advised at 5.15 p.m. that the Government was not sure of the timing of its announcement, both had gone to Sydney to meet commitments related to the New South Wales State elections on 1 May. Menzies’ lack of respect for democratic procedures was illustrated by the haste with which, undebated in Parliament, he announced the decision to make a major increase to Australia’s military commitment. The timing of this announcement appeared to lack the politically controlled environment of the first. In fact, the news had already been carried on the front page of the Daily Telegraph in a report written by Alan Reid, and on the front page of the Herald, an afternoon paper, as a result. Pre-empting Menzies’ announcement, the Daily Telegraph’s headline on 29 April read: ‘Cabinet acts. Big Aust. force for Sth. Vietnam’.47 A ‘special correspondent’ in Canberra reported the Government’s decision to send ‘a big force’ of troops to South Vietnam. According to Reid, the response was the result ‘of U.S. Government requests for clear support in Vietnam from its allies’ and the military aid would come ‘within the articles of the South East Asia Treaty Organisation’. Cox, the Herald’s correspondent in Canberra, responding to this initiative, wrote a report for the Herald’s publication on 29 April with the heading, ‘Our soldiers going to Vietnam’.48 Whether Menzies wanted the decision leaked has not generally been considered by writers to date, although the unwritten assumption has been that Reid’s article, along with the fact that UPI (United Committing a Battalion

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Press International) gained access to the information and therefore was able to establish international coverage before it was announced in Australia, was an embarrassment that caught Menzies struggling to contain the diplomatic and political repercussions of uncontrolled public information.49 Supporting this contention is the account by Don Chipp, then Liberal backbencher for Higinbotham, of events on the afternoon of Thursday, 29 April.50 Chipp was passing Menzies’ office when the Defence Minister, Paltridge, emerged, visibly upset. He encouraged Chipp to go in and speak to Menzies. Chipp found Menzies also upset. Menzies shocked Chipp with the revelation that a decision had been made to send troops to Vietnam and, despite an oral request, there was no written official Vietnamese request to present to Parliament. The Vietnamese request was the basis for legitimatising the Australian decision. The dilemma, claimed Menzies, was that ‘some bastard in the Cabinet has leaked it to the Press’. 51 According to Chipp, Menzies knew who it was although he could not prove it. ‘The Minister was never nailed for his act and subsequently went on to bigger and brighter things.’52 Menzies denied in Parliament a few days later that any Government member had leaked the information. When asked who gave the press the news, he replied, ‘I wish I knew, but I do not. The press certainly didn’t get it from the Government.’53 One could conclude that this hastened the formalising of an increasingly messy Australian public relations exercise in South Vietnam, with the South Vietnamese simultaneously aided and frustrated by the American Embassy in Saigon.54 Menzies had proved that press manipulation was part of his political forte. Supporting this argument is the reply from Hasluck to Keith Waller, Australian Ambassador in America, informing him that neither the Americans, nor the South Vietnamese, would necessarily be able to meet the Government deadline for an affirmative response by Thursday 29 April. ‘Risks of leakage are great,’ claimed Hasluck. ‘Consequently we would like Anderson [H. D. Anderson, Australian Ambassador to Saigon] to see Quat [Dr Phan Huy Quat, Prime Minister of South Vietnam] so that matters can be cleared in time to let Prime Minister make a statement on Thursday night 29 April, Australian time.’55 Thursday was the day Menzies wanted the announcement made. Whether he would have risked a diplomatic embarrassment by leaking the decision to very selected sources in order to make certain 88


the official announcement of Australia’s increased military commitment is impossible to know but the importance of reflecting on the significance of the role of the press in this incident, if Reid did provide a valuable service to Menzies, cannot be ignored.

Editorials With the exception of the Australian and the Canberra Times, editorials supported the Government’s decision. The perceived need for ‘loyalty’ played its part in this support, shown in the Courier-Mail’s response discussed below. Significant issues were raised in selected editorials, fleeting critical alerts about the danger of escalation. Although some editorials questioned aspects of Australia’s involvement these queries lacked the potency of those raised in the context of the May 1962 decision. The majority reaffirmed press orientation towards the main tenet of Australia’s involvement—the American alliance—and this dulled the impact of critical comment within most editorials. The Herald emphasised that, despite limited resources, Australia’s support for America in Vietnam, while it might have ‘grave consequences’, deepened ‘the friendship we need’.56 The West Australian, under the heading ‘Australia faces up to reality’, also spoke of the decision as ‘grave’ but ‘necessary’. That necessity was defined in the parameters of Australia’s relationship with America. ‘Australia is now being called on to support, with deeds as well as words, the policies that inspired our alliance with the U.S.’57 The point was reiterated in the Advertiser which claimed that ‘if we needed finally to convince ourselves that our security is involved in this war, we have done it. We have met the necessary commitment.’ Although Australian aid was ‘relatively small … it may be valuable to the United States at what appears to be a crisis of the war’.58 Highlighting the importance of the decision, the Courier-Mail placed its editorial on page one. Its heading was dramatic: ‘We are at war’. In prophetic tone it warned that the war ‘would touch everyone of us far more directly than most people, even today, will realise … Brave men will die in jungles without seeing the other side’s soldiers.’59 The editorial reminded readers, as did the Australian60, that internationally this was an unpopular war and our stance would lack international support. It asked the pertinent question: ‘Just which of South Vietnam’s repeatedly changing Governments we are aiding?’61 Committing a Battalion

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While criticising the Prime Minister for his failure to inform the Opposition about a matter that required a ‘national outlook’, the editorial adopted a totally submissive acceptance of Government control over such decisions with the comment ‘our Government has made the decision in our name, and that is its duty. The nation now has to support that.’62 The reasons for Australia’s involvement cited by the CourierMail reiterated all of the Government justifications for escalation of its commitment: Australia is to fight on the Asian mainland to aid the United States in stopping the advance of Communism, which threatens us directly. We are going there with a token, but nonetheless committed and lethal force to support the South Vietnamese Government against the aggression of North Vietnam backed by Communist China.63 Despite valid questioning of the Government’s decision, the CourierMail refused to challenge the basis of Government justification. The Age64 and SMH also reinforced the acceptability of this basis for involvement: It cannot be said too often or too strongly emphasised that if South Vietnam is allowed to fall to Communism then the extension of Communist influence down through the Malay Peninsula to the shores of Australia is inevitable.65 The comment that the domino theory could not be expounded ‘too often’ had found acceptance in the editorial columns discussed. The ‘real importance’ of the decision to send a battalion, asserted the SMH, lay in Australia supporting the United States ‘in a demonstration that resistance to Communist aggression is not the concern of any one country, but of all free countries’.66 The attempt at redefinition of expansionist Communism by the Advertiser led to its claim that Communism could move in more than one direction at once. Significantly this was the only attempt by editorialists at this time to question the domino theory. The Advertiser challenged the notion of South Vietnam as the front line by defining Asia as ‘one bridge’:

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We understand that if South Vietnam can be held, Malaysia and the rest of South East Asia will be safer, not because South Vietnam is a frontier position, a first domino in a line. There is in fact no line. Every country in South East Asia is vulnerable to communist subversion.’67 The comment represented a vague attempt to address the commonly repeated view of falling dominoes, but added to the confusion of what was meant by Communism and the danger it posed to Australia. According to the Age, this ‘grave’ decision placed Australia in the ‘cockpit of war where the conflict for power between Communist China and the West in South East Asia has been joined’.68 Our commitment was ‘inescapable’ because of our ‘geographical position, our treaty commitments and our friendships.’69 Editorials complied with the Government viewpoint that Vietnam was strategically important to Australia’s defence in May 1965. Their reiteration of the need to help defend South-East Asia against the ‘flow’ of Communism reflected the genuine concerns of many Australians. As papers questioned the connection between Vietnam and Australian security in future years, the importance of the American alliance would emerge as the one constant in Australian policy decisions on participation in Vietnam and this realisation would confirm the dominance of it in the decisions taken in both 1962 and 1965.

Editorial Challenge to the Decision The Canberra Times was restrained, falling short of critical in its assessment of Menzies’ announcement. Its introductory sentence revealed a thoughtful and prophetic approach: The most difficult question in considering the Government’s decision to send troops to Vietnam is how far it is wise to use the nation’s defence forces for a purely political objective.70 The question was a vital one. The editorial reasoned that the extraction of the greatest possible political advantage from our meagre resources ‘could have something as an argument if the result were really to give the United States the needed encouragement to stick it Committing a Battalion

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out and so prevent a Communist victory in South Vietnam … Australia has a great deal to lose if the Americans decide to withdraw from South East Asia.’71 Like other papers, the Canberra Times questioned Australia’s ability to disperse the small defence forces it had so widely. Accepting that Indonesian aggression did not develop, or the war in Vietnam widen, Australia had embarked, as far as the Canberra Times was concerned, on a ‘desperate gamble’. This statement reiterated the assessments of Denis Warner and John Williams in 1962. The Australian stood alone in irrefutable condemnation of the Government’s decision. In July 1964 the first edition of the Australian published in Canberra was printed. The significance of the role this paper, which aimed to be Australia’s first national paper, would play in leading others to question their own reporting, particularly political reporting because of the large office of Canberra-based staff with the Australian, is difficult to evaluate.72 While initially its circulation figures were low,73one journalist who worked on the paper in the early days claimed that even ‘though it had no circulation it had an influence, supposedly or apparently, or the other papers believed it had influence—totally disproportionate to the number of papers it sold’.74 Its willingness to question the Government line on Vietnam in its infant years could not have gone unnoticed by other journalists grown complacent with recording the pronouncements of a government well entrenched. One journalist quoted by press gallery analyst Patricia Edgar claimed that ‘Perhaps not so much today but certainly a few years ago, some very senior and some very venerable men of the Press Gallery … take them outside Parliament House and ask them to find a certain department and they would be lost immediately’.75 The reporting of Canberra-based journalists had shown that, while they were in a position to report detail absent in public information by their association with political and ‘official’ sources, their reports nevertheless carried what their sources would have approved. The Australian illustrated that newspapers could assess foreign policy involving soldier commitment independently of Government justifications for involvement. That the Australian was the only blatant critic of Government policy also illustrates the rarity of this approach by the key newspaper editorialists at that time. That Murdoch may have been playing a directive role in his newspaper’s criticism is supported by the fact that the Daily Mirror, also owned by Murdoch, stated that the decision to send troops was wrong.76 92


Under the heading, ‘The war that can’t be won’, the Australian wrote of the ‘reckless decision’ taken by the Menzies Government in sending Australian soldiers into a savage, revolutionary war in which the Americans are grievously involved—so that America may shelve a tiny part of her embarrassment … Their decision is wrong, at this time, whichever way you look at it.77 The paper argued that Australia would become a ‘political pawn’ in a situation for which she had no responsibility. The decision ran ‘counter to the mounting wave of international anxiety’ about American escalation and none of the defence treaties could be invoked ‘honestly’ to justify Australian intervention.78 The Australian’s disdain for SEATO echoed Warner’s of earlier years: ‘SEATO, more worthless than ever, certainly doesn’t apply … ’.79 Despite the use of SEATO as a justification for individual military aid to South Vietnam in 1962, the validity of the claim had received little questioning. Its re-emergence in 1965 was to see a less receptive adherence, despite its continued acceptance in some editorial columns. By dissecting individual editorials a list of valuable evaluations about Australia’s intention to send a battalion can be compiled. The list of issues identified included the relationship between military and political objectives; the difficulty of deciding who was in control in South Vietnam; the impact of the war on Australians would be greater than was being politically and publicly assessed; there was a lack of international support for the war. With the exception of the Australian, whose argument was clear, valuable single considerations were lost in the attention given to the necessity of expressing the major contentions—strengthening the American alliance and the need to stop the growth of Communism in South-East Asia. These, in their prevalence and intensity, dulled the impact of other considerations.

Supporting America But Not Military Intervention in South Vietnam The key consistency, and weakness, in the majority of newspapers after Menzies’ 29 April announcement was an unwillingness to differentiate clearly between support for the American alliance and Committing a Battalion

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support for Australian intervention. There were varying levels of ambiguity in discussion of Australia’s commitment as a result. Commentators could oppose Australia’s involvement in the war but none were willing to oppose the need for the American alliance, nor would most commentators criticise American intervention in the war. The editorial in the Australian on 5 May indicated the problem for the daily newspaper most critical of the decision. It registered its total ‘distaste for the Government’s calculated indiscretion—a distaste shared by a substantial cross-section of the Australian community, irrespective of party—to the sort of foreign policy in these anxious times we think Australia should steadfastly pursue. That policy is based firmly on the American alliance, as … it now is, through inclination and faith as well as self-interest. There is no alternative, even if we wanted one, according to the terms of power in the Pacific world today.’80 The editorial embraced two of the main tenets of the Government policy: the importance of the American alliance, and the high moral ground of America’s stand in South Vietnam: We know they are not on the South East Asian mainland for conquest or repression or for motives of commercial imperialism. They are in Vietnam out of a sense of duty and a brave acceptance of the responsibilities of their power. This is the view of government and responsible opinion in Australia, and it is the foundation too, of the policy The Australian and the Government’s present genuine critics demand. It is on the interpretation of the means of fulfilling our faithfulness to the alliance that this newspaper differs with Sir Robert Menzies and his colleagues. Uncritical subservience has no place in Australian policy. Convenient for the Johnson administration our petty military gesture may now be, but it cannot carry with it the guarantee of unalloyed respect. It is too much the act of a toady … Australia needs a good healthy dose of independence in her relations with her powerful friends. We are a White nation in an Asian world … And while our only true defence is recognised to lie in the strength of our friends we need not convert these friendships into immutable contracts.81 94


The editorial reminded readers that an oppositional stand to the Government did not have to be an oppositional stand to the US. Its strength lay in its dual ability to support the premise of Australia’s most vital consideration in relation to Vietnam and to question the strength of a nation producing an international ‘toady’ image. Whether the editorial was a brilliant example of subtle, subversive politics or comment looking for high moral ground but losing it in the premise that America’s acceptable role in Vietnam owed nothing, in obligatory terms, from Australia to the US, is for individual interpretation. The innate weakness of the position evidenced in the editorial was reiterated in the main argument put forward by the Opposition in its debate on Australia’s decision in Parliament on 4 May. The press coverage of that debate indicated sympathy for the strength of Calwell’s presentation, but a restraint in accepting the arguments presented against the Government’s decision.82

Reporting Labor’s Response In an emotional article in the SMH on 16 April 1994, Alan Ramsey, then a veteran Canberra Press Gallery journalist, used Calwell’s speech on 4 May 1965 to prove his contention that ‘Vietnam was Calwell’s finest hour’.83 Under the heading, ‘Artie a prophet without honour—or votes’, Ramsey quoted the many parts of Calwell’s statement that history had vindicated, concluding with Calwell’s recognition of the difficulty of acceptance for the position he advocated: I offer you the probability that you will be traduced, that your motives will be misrepresented, that your patriotism will be impugned, that your courage will be called into question. But I also offer you the sure and certain knowledge that we will be vindicated, that generations to come will record with gratitude that when a reckless Government wilfully endangered the security of this nation, the voice of the Labor Party was heard, strong and clear.84 Gough Whitlam, then a federal Labor MP and later Leader of the Labor Party, also noted the quality of the speech. The first Federal Conference of the ALP to pronounce on Vietnam policy was in August 1965. ‘The real importance of this speech’ wrote Whitlam, ‘derives from the fact that it was subsequently endorsed by Federal Conference Committing a Battalion

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and thus became not merely an expression of opinion but a statement of policy’.85 The Labor Party opposed the decision to send a battalion to Vietnam although it had not opposed the sending of advisers in 1962 or the bombing of North Vietnam in 1964. The Age noted that ‘this reversal of the drift of Labor policy is largely unexplained’.86 Its editorial emphasised this seeming reversal of support. ‘In the past’ claimed the Age, Labor had ‘professed support for the United States’ role in South Vietnam and it has affirmed our membership of SEATO and ANZUS. It has not quarrelled with the military commitment, which began in 1962 … It has not protested at the dispatch of the R.A.A.F. transport squadron’.87 It was right, the Age asserted, for Australia to ‘range itself’ alongside the United States and despite the ‘eloquent and emotional appeal’ by Calwell, he had offered no alternatives. The position of Labor on Vietnam and Malaysia was ‘all care no responsibility’.88 The Advertiser’s response damned with faint praise. Under the heading ‘Why Mr. Calwell is wrong’, Calwell’s speech was described as ‘earnest and troubled’ and the ‘most thoughtful’ that the House had heard from him in a long time. This acknowledged, the Advertiser demolished what it regarded as Calwell’s main arguments, concluding that his speech lacked conviction because the premises from which it was argued were wrong.89 The comment that the speech ‘should have helped many people clarify their own ideas about the wisdom of the Federal Government’s action’90 left no doubt of the paper’s support of the Government decision. Robert Hannaford’s cartoon could be read as reinforcing the editorial stance of his paper. In an undisguised call for loyalty, it depicted Menzies rowing a boat, Aust security, and calling to Calwell standing behind in the boat, ‘Stop complaining and take an oar’.91 Whitlam was reported in the press as stating that ‘one does not forego an alliance until one has a better arrangement. We badly need the US alliance and America’s motives in South Vietnam are above dispute.’92 His response encapsulated the problem of opposing Australia’s increased military support in South Vietnam. The media believed that the Opposition had lost strength in the debate on 4 May by admitting that America was right to be involved in Vietnam and that we needed America as an ally but that Australia should not send troops. As Freudenberg (who wrote Calwell’s speech) conceded, Menzies ‘homed in on Labor’s central political difficulty—the 96


question of Australia’s relations with the United States’.93 Menzies’ reply ensured Labor’s stance would be fought by framing the issue as a moral one: I would hate to be the head of a Government which had to say to the United States on an occasion like this: ‘Sorry, we can do nothing about it. We will like to help you with debate in the United Nations. We will offer some fine words and some good sentiments. But as a practical action ‘No. That is for you.’ American soldiers from the Middle West can go and fight and die in South Vietnam, but that is not for us. I think that is a disastrous proposition for any opposition to put forward.94 A decade later, Freudenberg claimed that when the claims Menzies made in his parliamentary speech, including comment on the request and the response to SEATO were ‘exploded’, ‘the diabolic power of the thing shows through: the statement of the obvious joined with the statement of high principle; self-interest joined with highest obligations; above all, the jugular technique of going straight for the most sensitive part of his opponent’s case’.95 For the Age, ‘the logic, the brutal logic’ of the prime ministerial reply left the Opposition leader’s arguments in ‘disorder’.96 The Opposition’s stance was criticised by Wallace Brown in his weekly column in the Courier-Mail. He noted that the Government had quickly identified the fallacy in the Opposition’s argument that while they agreed China should be stopped and that an American presence was needed in South-East Asia, the Americans, despite being an ally, should pursue the defence of the region on their own.97 The Courier-Mail’s editorial noted the common ground between Government and Opposition. ‘Both agreed that the pace of aggression has increased, that Communist China must be stopped, and that the United States must not be humiliated.’98 Calwell’s speech was described as his ‘best’ but the editorial still concluded that the only honourable course for Australia was the one the Government had taken. The Canberra Times believed the strength of Labor’s argument was the doubt it cast ‘on the whole idea of opposing revolution in South-East Asia by military action in Vietnam’.99 This point had been consistently raised by specialist Asian reporters but was rarely Committing a Battalion

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expressed or debated in the news and other commentary in Australian papers at this time. In an editorial that praised Labor’s parliamentary response, the Canberra Times then questioned the validity of most of the arguments presented. However, it did not totally support the Government. In a vital qualification the paper asserted: Politically the decision may make good sense; militarily it is nonsense. The result of trying to meet too many commitments is that Australia is now more than ever dependent on our allies for the defence of our own security.100 This comment illustrated the persisting concern of the Canberra Times to differentiate between the military and political nature of Australia’s commitment. Despite some praise of Labor’s opposition to sending a battalion to Vietnam, most editorial comment in the Canberra Times exemplified more clearly than the editorials following Menzies’ announcement, its support for the Government position.

Foreign Reporters’ Assessment of the Decision to Escalate Military Involvement Specialist foreign reporter commentary continued to illustrate a more thoughtful consideration of the complexities of the decision of Australian involvement in Vietnam. In the SMH and the Courier-Mail on 1 May, Warner described the decision to increase military involvement as ‘grave’.101 The SMH heading to Warner’s article read, ‘Our gravest decision since 1939, Why Australian troops are going to Vietnam’.102 Some of Warner’s questions and answers were the same as in 1962. It was still ‘Alliances and self-interest’.103 ‘If’, wrote Warner, ‘we accept as we do—the interpretation that we have individual as well as collective responsibilities’104 then Australia was obliged to help. In a sensationalised and personalised overflow of antiCommunism, Warner wrote that without the United States’ economic aid, and the Seventh Fleet, ‘I’m sure all of Asia would have collapsed into Communism or chaos long ago’.105 Despite these assertions he again stated his contention that the war could not be won: ‘I’ve said it can’t be won on numerous occasions in the past. I still believe this to be true’.106 However, he qualified this statement by saying that the United States was not trying to win the war at this stage. ‘It is desperately trying to get to the Conference table.’107 The Herald had carried 98


this comment from Warner on 30 April; on 1 May the opposite viewpoint was carried in its report from Hughes: Neither the Americans nor the communists want negotiations at this moment. The Asian Communists—Chinese and North Vietnamese—believe they are on the verge of a decisive breakthrough and victory. The Americans know this. The Americans—with or without resounding South Vietnamese support—are now complacently resolved to prevent the breakthrough.108 Herald readers were presented with conflicting views for consideration but there was little development within either report for them to gain an understanding of the basis for the opinions offered. The importance of obligating America to Australia’s security was evident in both reports. In reporting American delight at Australia’s decision to send a battalion, Hughes noted the comment of an American diplomat: The ANZUS pact is now fully reciprocal … Do the Australians really believe that we would allow Seokarno to trample or edge his way across the New Guinea border? Our friends and our allies are always our friends and allies.109 The significance of Warner’s response would be recognised in hindsight. He warned that any longer term benefit of helping America in Vietnam would be lost if Allied troops were defeated in Vietnam. ‘Worse still, the dividends we hope to reap from having proved ourselves a loyal ally to the United States may never be repaid,’ wrote Warner.110 He despaired at the quality of the parliamentary debate on the decision, asserting that while there were good reasons for and against the decision to send troops, ‘most members seemed unaware of them’.111 Still expounding the danger of being involved in a ‘white man’s war against Asians’, he questioned why other lines of argument had not been explored in the parliamentary debate. ‘Certainly we are allies of the United States. Certainly we will help with medical teams, by economic aid and with goodwill, but not with troops.’112 Historian Peter Edwards noted that Warner’s comments at ‘the time, may well have served to prepare the Australian public for a defeat in Indochina’.113 While other commentators could not remove Committing a Battalion

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the importance of an American alliance from consideration of Australia’s participation in the war, an aspect well supported by Warner, Warner’s base was his obsessive fear of Communism. His antiCommunist stance tended to negate the legitimacy of his demand for Australia to seek an alternative policy because the Government used the same basis to demand intervention. The comments of American columnist, Walter Lippmann, also sounded a warning in 1965 to Australian readers. Negotiations should continue, asserted Lippmann: For the real options have not been explained to our people. To the best of my knowledge, they have not been clearly resolved and decided within the Administration itself.114 Lippmann argued that he could see no ‘rational prospect of anything better’ than an American presence secured while the Vietnamese negotiated their future. The US ‘would not have won the war. But at least by extremist standards, it would not have lost it’.115 Lippmann stated that the problem in South-East Asia was not ‘how to win a war against a Government but how to keep it won among the people’.116 His article reminded readers that although America had the power to destroy North Vietnam this would not influence the behaviour and preferences of the peasants in the villages. The subtle distinction between the Government in Saigon and the politics of the countryside was rarely raised at this time except by specialist journalists. For the most part in Australia, these journalists were not the political specialists but rather the foreign and/or Vietnam reporters.

News Coverage All papers indicated on their news pages the controversial nature of the decision taken. Government considerations still dominated page one news reports. The news reports on 30 April and 1 May indicated that the press were unaware of the dilemma that had ensued for Menzies after receiving the request from South Vietnam. Australian dailies carried the news of the response as a ‘request’ for help from South Vietnam.117 Menzies had said he was ‘now in receipt of a request from the South Vietnamese Government’.118 The Daily Telegraph headline read, ‘Aust. troops answer Viet. call for aid’.119 The West Australian headline read, ‘Australia to send 800 to fight in Vietnam. Request’.120 The Age, with less thought than its similar 100


announcement in May 1962, headlined its report, ‘1,000 Australians for Vietnam. Govt. responds to appeal for front-line troops’.121 The introductory remarks in the Age page one news report indicated a prioritising of concerns that came before the printing, also on page one, of Menzies’ parliamentary statement. Following the news that the battalion would go at the request of South Vietnam and that it would be the 1st Battalion, RAR, the news report claimed that the battalion would be under ‘American field command and will be deployed with Americans. If American units move out of their defensive positions to hunt the Viet Cong guerrillas, the Australians will go with them.’122 This, as the ‘Front-line troops’ headline had signified, was a combat force. The American association was evidenced by the complete reprinting on page one of Johnson’s letter, stating his ‘delight’ at Australia’s decision ‘to provide an infantry battalion for service in South Vietnam at the request of the government of South Vietnam’.123 The South Vietnamese response was recorded on page three.124 Page one carried the duplicity of the American and Australian governments that later years would make obvious. The request from South Vietnam was not published because it was not made public until six years later. It had not fulfilled Menzies’ requirement. It began, ‘I have the honour to refer to your letter of today’s date confirming the Australian Government’s offer to send to Viet Nam an infantry battalion of 800 men’.125 The lack of curiosity by the press on this point reflects the indifference for the South Vietnam context of Australia’s commitment. It was an indifference bolstered by support for official pronouncements. In his statement to the House of Representatives Menzies had announced that the decision to send troops had been decided in principle some weeks before South Vietnam requested it. The Age did note that this comment indicated a breakdown in communication between the Government and the nation: Two months ago Government sources were explaining that any involvement of a second battalion in Malaysia would upset the needed balance between Australian forces committed and forces in reserve. Presumably the gravity of the situation in Vietnam … has required more adventurous decisions. The Parliament should be told in more detail during the debate to come.126 This issue was not followed up by the Age. Committing a Battalion

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China China’s relationship to the conflict was an increasingly difficult concept for newspapers to report. The attitude Paul Hasluck, Minister for External Affairs, publicly adopted towards China is clear in his comment: For the first time in modern history, China, with 700 million people is united under a single totalitarian government which rules tightly and is Communist. It is ruthless and has declared its defiance of the rest of the world.127 The reporting of key government spokesmen like Hasluck, mostly by Canberra Press Gallery journalists, emphasised that China was a threat to Australian security. The Advertiser’s Canberra correspondent on 1 May indicated the role of China in the Vietnamese conflict. Vietnam was a war against ‘forces backed by a Red China with designs to bring the whole of … South East Asia under her domination, and ultimately, Australia’.128 The ‘Chinese menace’ had become more dangerous because of Communists in Indonesia aligning themselves with Peking, claimed Stephens, the Advertiser’s political correspondent. This was why Australia had accepted a request for help from South Vietnam and also why negotiations were impossible, because they would leave South Vietnam at ‘the mercy of Hanoi, and through it Peking’.129 These sentiments were restated on the front page of the Advertiser on 4 May in a news report of Hasluck’s address, to the SEATO conference in London, under the lead heading, ‘Hasluck warns of war danger; S-E Asia “world front line” ’.130 Despite the emphasis on China in news reports, the 6 May editorial in the Advertiser indicated a willingness to be more specific about defining the role of China in the conflict in Vietnam. The editorial claimed that while Calwell was wrong about the nature of the war in Vietnam, he was on stronger ground in his challenge of Menzies’ statement that the Viet Cong struggle was part of a Chinese thrust into South-East Asia: There is no clear evidence that it is. Even the Vietnamese Communists are not likely to submerge Vietnamese independence to meet China’s ambitions, however grateful they might be for Chinese assistance now.131 102


As if unable to accept its own proposition, the editorial then noted that should Vietnam become Communist the ‘Chinese influence would be thrust so much further south. What would there be to prevent it?’132 The comments did not contradict each other but they did illustrate an ambiguity that a greater understanding of Communism and the nationalistic forces in South-East Asia may have resolved. The editorial also showed that information in news reports and bylined commentary from specialist reporters did not necessarily inform editorial comment. Some reporters challenged Hasluck’s view of China. Douglas Brass, a columnist for the Australian, cynically calling Hasluck the ‘Minister for War’, attacked Hasluck’s obsession with China. Commenting on his parliamentary statement on foreign affairs, Brass wrote: Mr. Hasluck’s main exercise, however, is to justify the extension of the war in Vietnam and to enunciate an uncompromising Australian policy based less on liberal principles and national self-interest than on his personal obsession with China.133 Warner linked China directly to the conflict in Vietnam and its solution. Russia would negotiate claimed Warner, but ‘Peking is not interested in negotiation, only in victory, and Hanoi too, seems determined to push the war through to the end’.134 While Hughes adhered to the view that the Chinese were backing Hanoi, his copy acknowledged the real relationship that extended between the Vietnamese people and the interference of the so called ‘super powers’: Nor are the Chinese any more popular than the Americans in North Vietnam. And perhaps the Americans are not much more popular than the Chinese in rural areas of South Vietnam.135 Garry Barker, writing from Singapore, sought the views of ‘international businessmen’ and the ‘diplomats’ in Singapore on Australia’s decision to increase its military commitment in South Vietnam. The question obviously revolved around China. The views expressed in his report did not dismiss the Australian Government’s contention Committing a Battalion

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of the perceived power of China at this time but they did place the relationship between China and North Vietnam in a more enlightened Asian context. Barker claimed his sources believed that the Chinese were ‘pragmatic—they will probably denounce us as lackeys or some such other well-worn phrase, but continue to buy our wheat’.136 Edwards argues that Sir James Plimsoll, Secretary of the Department of External Affairs, may have been responsible for the inclusion in Menzies’ 29 April statement of an over-emphasis on the military threat from China. This view, claims Edwards, was not supported by the Department of Defence or the Opposition, and it left the Government pursuing a line it did not privately believe.137 The decision to include the reference to China must be weighed against the popular belief in Australia that China was a real threat to Australia’s security. In a gallup poll assessing Australian public opinion about Menzies’ decision, by far the highest consensus from the 1700 interviewed was recorded to the question asking if Australia would be threatened by China if America withdrew from Vietnam. The response was 72 per cent affirmative.138 The Government would have denied a basis of its public conditioning process if it had failed to take the line given in the statement on 29 April. The reports of Hasluck’s antiChinese views and press support for the fear of China had helped to condition the Australian public to an acceptance of the ‘fundamental flaw’ Edwards found in Menzies’ statement.139 Menzies was publicly outspoken on the dangers of China, shown in his response to the letters from the Anglican bishops.140 Perhaps the misrepresentation that Edwards cites, does explain to some extent, the different views that the press presented of the Chinese context of the decision following Menzies’ announcement.

Reporting the War Environment If readers of the Herald were confused by the conflicting views expressed by two experienced South-East Asian reporters, Warner and Hughes, their understanding would not have been enhanced by the reading of another article in the Herald on 1 May. It stood out from other features on the war environment in Vietnam because of its simplified and one-sided view of American-Vietnamese relationships in the countryside in South Vietnam. While all papers reflect inconsistencies in quality in reports and features, why the 104


Herald chose to print the article by John Weir, from a London newspaper, is difficult to assess. The superiority of the Western reporters’ eyes in viewing the American-South Vietnamese relationship was rarely shown so well. Weir had travelled around the Mekong Delta from hamlet to hamlet on a military American helicopter that carried a machine gun on each side. They had not needed the guns because everywhere they went the people in the Mekong Delta ‘grinned and waved. And the Americans grinned back. They like the Vietnamese.’141 The situation in Vietnam reminded Weir of The Wizard of Oz: The Americans, wide eyed and earnest, play Judy Garland’s role. The Vietnamese, diminutive and giggling, are the little fairy people. Viet Cong is the wicked witch, and away in the far north is the fabulous wizard himself, President HoChi-Min of North Vietnam.142 Weir’s summation, that the situation had its ‘humorous side’, left little room for believing a more serious intent in his writing but its publication illustrated that the editor who chose to publish the article perceived a considerable distance between the Australian reader and those suffering in the war environment of Vietnam. Alternatively, perhaps the editor was stunned at the imagery conveyed as ‘humorous’. Continuing his illustration of the ‘humorous side’ of the war, Weir wrote of the ‘hulking American adviser’ who in trying to get across bamboo bridges which ‘the little Vietnamese soldiers race across like acrobats’, would fall into the water and the Vietnamese, giggling with joy, ‘would fish him out’.143 The conclusion of Weir’s article summarised its intent: The basic policy now is to convince the people that the Western way of life has more to offer than the Viet Cong.144 The seriousness of the point he made was lost in its preamble. It acknowledged that ‘hearts and minds’ had to be won from a different world view to that of America and her allies. The Allied commitment was intending to do more than secure; it was aiming to change the existing state in South Vietnam. Committing a Battalion

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The reports from Australian foreign correspondents, recognising the complexity of the Vietnam environment, balanced the shallow reports from other sources. Hughes’ article on 1 May reported that the Viet Cong in South Vietnam had not been concerned with the fate of North Vietnamese when the Americans had begun bombing there. The opinion was supported with only one reference—the comment made by a captured Viet Cong captain. ‘We don’t care what happens to them up North. We can look after ourselves down here.’145 The comment highlighted the division between those fighting for the Communist cause in the South, and those in the North. It was a distinction hardly ever made in press reporting because few newspapers, or those whose comment they carried, differentiated between the two. Australian dailies published a variety of reports informing readers about the nature of the war in Vietnam. The Australian, in comparison with the special report in the Herald on aspects of the nature of the war on 1 May, printed a report from ‘A Special Correspondent’, Saigon. It was headed, ‘In a war of torture and terror … slit throats are the calling cards’.146 The report began with an example of a terrorist method that was to become familiar to Australian readers over the following years. The Viet Cong were cast in the role of evil aggressors against unsuspecting innocence: A Viet Cong squad sneaks into a sleeping village. They pad to the house of the village chief loyal to Saigon and pull him from his bed. They pull him and a few other supporters to the village square, where, after assembling the villagers, they cut the men’s throats.147 The Communists’ aim was to stop villagers talking to government officials or troops looking for information. The article continued with the description of another common Vietnamese torture. This described a South Vietnamese atrocity: A South Vietnamese captain squats on the chest of a Viet Cong captive and pours water from a rusty tin mug into a towel around the victim’s face. The Viet Cong struggles as only water rushes into his nose and mouth and he gasps for

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air. A sergeant slams his boot into the prisoner’s side. Two enlisted men begin twisting his ankles and legs. This is interrogation on the battlefield Vietnamese style.148 Also described in the report were the torture and execution of four American soldiers by the Viet Cong in February 1965 and the execution by a South Vietnamese battalion commander of six Viet Cong soldiers. The report illustrated that there were no rules, no limits to savagery, and no distinction between the methods of either side. It also indicated that there were no areas that could be regarded as safe from the horror of the war. This extended from executions in paddy fields and villages to attacks on American civilians. ‘They have blown up a ball park, a picture theatre and the American Embassy.’149 There was no partisanship in this report; it graphically reminded readers that Vietnam was a war zone and offered one view of the meaning of war in Vietnam. The use of photographs in Australian dailies helped to show the reality of a war zone. Photographs are an important aspect of the study of Australian press reporting because as Australia’s participation grew the differences between the visual images in later reporting indicate a willingness to depict the Americans and Vietnamese on both sides of the conflict in compromising situations. In contrast, the Australians were for the most part depicted as smiling, helpful and caring protectors of the South Vietnamese. Photographs of Vietnam became images of the Vietnamese War, or the American war in Vietnam, which often had seemingly little in common with the visual image of the Australian soldiers’ experience. The photographs concentrated on the war rather than any other scenes representative of Vietnam at this time. The limitation of choice of photographs available, sent through agencies such as AAP-Reuters and UPI, was illustrated by the same picture, though rarely with the same caption, appearing in Australian dailies at this time. The nature of the war was conveyed with the help for readers of Australian editing to interpret the image. One photograph used in the SMH and the West Australian exemplifies editorial license in the interpretation of the emotive response sought from the photograph. In the West Australian the photo was headed ‘Parental shield’ and the caption read, ‘A South Vietnamese farmer and his wife use their bodies to protect their two children


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from bullets as Viet Cong snipers open fire on an American marine patrol in the village near Da Nang’.150 In the SMH the heading read ‘The terror and anguish of Vietnam war’, and the report read in part, ‘The anguish and terror of the Vietnam war is clearly reflected in the face of this woman shielding her half-naked child as US marines charge into her home looking for a sniper. Nearby her husband throws his body over his son, cradling the child’s head in an effort to protect him.’151 Barker’s description of the ‘atmosphere of war’ in Vietnam portrayed an environment less warlike than that cited in other reports. 152 The Mekong Delta was ‘turgid’, the paddy fields ‘a shabby quilt’, the jungle ‘thick’, the people were described as ‘small, brown, nervous and suspicious’. ‘The towns are typical of Asia with rows of houses lining dusty streets and black-toothed betel nut chewing women squatted beside the portable food stalls. This oddly, is the atmosphere of war’:153 Life goes on around it much as it has always done. Terror strikes, houses burn, Communists come in at night to threaten and kill, people are frightened, then resume their way.154

International Response The response of the international community was recorded in the metropolitan dailies. The SEATO conference, held in London at the same time as the decision was being discussed in Australia, increased coverage of overseas opinion. The response of Western countries dominated, in line with Australia’s traditional view of its Western identity. The ‘delighted’ response of America, the cool, non-communicative response from Britain, and the oppositional response from France and Russia were the most reported. The Courier-Mail had warned in its page one editorial on 1 May that Australia’s stance in sending a battalion would be a lonely one. ‘Don’t be under any illusion that this is a war for a cause which has world wide popular support. It’s not.’155 The Canberra Times also raised the issue of international support for Australia’s decision: A number of Asian States, such as Malaysia, Thailand, South Vietnam and the Philippines, will publicly support 108


Australia … A number of others, like India and Pakistan, may keep quiet or even deplore it in public while secretly sympathising with what the Government has done.156 The aiding of a lonely America in South-East Asia was central to the Government’s public justification for the decision to escalate military involvement. The newspapers conveyed international disfavour but this in turn highlighted the importance of Australia’s determination to prove to America that it was Australia’s most vital ally. In Paris, on 30 April, the Soviet Foreign Minister, Mr Gromyko, and the French Foreign Minister, M. Maurice Couve de Murville, issued a joint communiqué to all countries to ‘keep their hands off’ Vietnam and other areas of South-East Asia.157 The communiqué stated that the only way for conflict in South-East Asia to be resolved was by recognition of the independence of ‘the countries there and “the impermissibility of foreign interference in their home affairs” ’.158 The news of this communiqué, issued on the same day as Australia’s decision to increase its military commitment in South Vietnam, was carried on page one of the Courier-Mail, Advertiser, Canberra Times and Age on 1 May.159 British reaction was important to Australia. In Malaysia British troops were providing security in an area that Australia had also deemed vital to its security. One letter to the editor in the Advertiser conveyed disgust at Australia’s commitment to Vietnam with the Americans: It is obvious that opinion in the U.K. is not in favour, and why should it be? Malaysia is the nearest point to Australia which occupies most attention, where thousands of British troops are standing guard.160 The importance of Britain was shown by Menzies’ admission that Britain had been consulted about the decision before its announcement. The press did not question this, despite the fact that the decision had not been discussed in the Australian Parliament before it was made public.161 The London correspondent for the Age claimed that Australia’s decision was greeted with ‘mixed feelings’. ‘Officially the British Government which was advised beforehand of the decision, approved and welcomed the decision,’ claimed the reporter but Committing a Battalion

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he also noted that ‘some Ministers and many M.P.’s received the news with misgivings which they did not attempt to hide’.162 The report indicated that Britain believed escalation would interfere with negotiation but reportedly saw Australia’s decision as ‘the logical outcome of its unqualified support of America’s actions in Vietnam’. This report appeared on page five, while the French-Russian communiqué had been reported on page one. It also carried official responses from leaders. Under the heading ‘Reticence in U.K.’, Trevor Smith wrote from London that comment was difficult to obtain from official sources and there had not been ‘as much as a murmur about even the political implications of Australia’s decision for Anglo-Australian relations’. Smith also noted that Australia’s decision could be seen politically to compromise the efforts of the British Government towards a negotiated settlement. Only the SMH registered British disquiet on page one.163 Perhaps the dissident nature of the British response and the publicity it gave to British interpretation of the decision that Australia had placed American interests before British ones, influenced news priority. British reaction was also shown by the reprinting in Australian papers of the attitudes in British newspapers, an indication in itself of a British response. The Advertiser carried the British newspaper comments under the heading ‘Australian move hailed’. The material in the report did not justify this heading given that the majority of views reported indicated a critical British response. The Advertiser noted the comments of the Daily Sketch (London) and the Guardian (Manchester). The Daily Sketch wrote that it was no secret that the British would have preferred Australia, if it had a spare battalion, to have sent it to Malaysia ‘where some 50,000 British troops are defending what is regarded as largely an Australian strategic interest’.164 The Guardian asserted that the decision was political rather than military and that Menzies had answered the American call for more flags beside the ‘Stars and Stripes’. Menzies appeared to share American views on the conflict although these views had produced problems for the Americans, claimed the report. However, the proximity of Canberra to Indo-China meant that the ‘Australians must be left to judge whether their Government is acting wisely’.165 The West Australian also printed the sentiments of flag suppport for the Americans from the Guardian.166 While these British newspaper reports were carried in three newspapers and almost all of the reports 110


on the Russian and French attitude were headlined with the ‘hand off’ statement, the reliance on agency material from one source, in this instance AAP, was obvious. Special reports, such as Smith’s and that of the Age correspondent in London, were the only Australian reported response from Britain.167 The reported American response also demonstrated the dependence of Australian newspapers on agency material. Randal Heymanson, the Herald’s correspondent in Washington, had been told ‘again and again’ at the National Press Club ‘how good it feels to have such a friend as Australia’.168 The SMH said that ‘the Australian decision was given great prominence in the United States, where it was featured by newspapers and radio and television. Public reaction appeared to be strong approval of Australia as America’s most steadfast ally.’169 In the Advertiser the same comments had reinforced ‘featured’ so the decision being presented was ‘a major item’ and rather than ‘America’s most steadfast ally’ the public reaction had shown that Australia was ‘prepared to stand four-square with the American forces in Vietnam’.170 In the Daily Telegraph the report read that ‘American newspapers radio and television stations today hailed Australia’s decision …’171 The Canberra Times report indicated what others had seen as unimportant. It recorded the response of the Guardian in Britain but also noted that while the newspaper response to the Australian decision in New York was to publish the news prominently without comment, the response in Montreal, Kuala Lumpur, Tokyo and Saigon had resulted in front-page coverage.172 Two Chinese-language newspapers in Hong Kong, of ‘opposite political views’, had reported Australia’s decision, according to the Canberra Times. The Sing Pao Mao Pao said tension in Indo-China was likely to develop, but praised the Australian decision because it showed the ‘SEATO powers meant business’.173 The Communist New Evening Post reportedly said that the Australian troops would only help to give the United States ‘a short breathing spell in manpower’.174 The significance of this fleeting acknowledgement of Asian responses illustrated the selective publishing by the Canberra Times of part of the AAP-Reuter report that other papers had ignored, despite using some of its other content. (The Australian did use a feature article from America to convey some Asian perspectives on Western intervention. This is discussed later in this chapter.) Although the Canberra Times report went Committing a Battalion

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further than other newspapers in registering Asian response, with the exception of the Australian (as mentioned), its failure in future days to examine this response indicated a transitory interest in the Asian context of the decision. The failure of the press to either recognise the lack of a Vietnamese context for Australian policy direction or alternatively to acknowledge one helped to emphasis the American context in Australian coverage. There is little evidence that the Australian press sought the views of the South Vietnamese to Australia’s decision to send a battalion there. The Governor of the Bank of Vietnam, Dr Nguyen Xuan Danh, in Canberra to see Menzies on 30 March, regarded Australia’s aid to South Vietnam as adequate. He reportedly did not believe that China and Russia would be drawn into the conflict and nor would the ‘North Vietnam Government openly declare war’. While hostilities might cease, he saw no short-term solution to solve differences between the Government of South Vietnam and the Communists.175 More extensive analysis and comment was not sought from this prominent Vietnamese businessman, despite his presence in Parliament House on the day after Menzies’ announcement. Small reports indicated that Hanoi had responded as expected and attacked Australia for its willingness ‘to serve as cannon fodder’ for the United States in South Vietnam.176 The more formal dissent of Hanoi—its protest to the International Control Commission—was also reported.177 The Herald reported the response of Hanoi before the one paragraph reported from South Vietnam stating that Australian troops would ‘contribute to the ideals of freedom’.178 Newspaper reports on New Zealand’s reaction were framed by the likelihood of New Zealand involvement. No paper questioned why New Zealand had not been asked for troops by South Vietnam, although they carried the New Zealand Prime Minister, Mr Keith Holyoake’s, statement that the lack of a request for help from South Vietnam was a reason why New Zealand had not made any offer.179 On 4 May the Courier-Mail printed a report claiming that there was no evidence that New Zealand intended to announce a decision to send troops to Vietnam despite ‘Radio Australia’s assertion that this is imminent’.180 While the report indicated some politicians were in favour of such a commitment, it reported that the New Zealand ‘Government’s nose counters tell it the public accepts reluctantly the necessity of a token commitment of combat troops to Malaysia but it 112


is strongly against sending troops to Vietnam’.181 This report made an interesting comparison to Australia’s decision given the two countries’ strategic and allied interests and in the light of press reports looking for news of a New Zealand commitment. The reported comment of the New Zealand Labour Party’s immediate past president, lawyer Dr Martyn Finlay, in an address to a May Day assembly, left no doubt of a public denunciation of Australia’s decision. Finlay warned that New Zealand ‘mustn’t follow in the steps of Menzies, who’s trading Australian lives for American gold’.182 Informative material on Asian attitudes to American intervention in Vietnam was presented in a feature article by Senator Wayne Morse, a Democrat Senator from Oregon, United States183, published in the Australian. Fearing intervention of China and/or Russia and the loss of friends internationally, Morse argued against American involvement in an Asian war. The article noted the attitudes of Indonesia, Pakistan, India and Japan. In India, the Prime Minister, Mr Shastri, had united all political factions behind him because he was refusing to be ‘bullied’ into acceptance of American actions in Vietnam. Morse claimed that Pakistan was concerned at the racial overtones of the war and the insensitivity involved in American military destruction of an Asian country. The Japanese Prime Minister, Mr Sato, had sent his own investigation team to Vietnam. He concluded that the Viet Cong were not controlled by Hanoi or Peking and ‘probably 30% were Communists’ and the United States was wrong to think that military force would solve the problem: The war hawks and their newspaper mouthpieces will tell you that we must stop concerning ourselves with what other countries think, and do what we think is right in Asia. But everything they want us to do there is supposed to be for the benefit not of the United States, but of India, Pakistan, Japan, Indonesia and the smaller countries of the area to save them from communism. Why is it then, that they do not appreciate that we know better than they do?184 To demonstrate his argument, Morse questioned the hypocrisy of the American stance in travelling 8000 miles to ‘make someone else leave their neighbours alone’. He asserted that America’s efforts to enforce a democracy in Vietnam had failed. The Americans were Committing a Battalion

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not defending the right of self-determination in Vietnam, he claimed; they were attempting to impose their will on Vietnam.185 The article was a logically supported argument for the consideration of the Asian perspective of Allied intervention. Bruce Petty made similar comment in his cartoon in the Australian, depicting the Australian battalion marching towards the West, while the bridge on which they marched had crumbled behind them. Left behind were the countries of Asia—Japan, Pakistan, Cambodia, India, Philippines, Burma, Indonesia.186 Despite the value of these considerations there was no attempt in newspapers to extend discussion and reporting on views from other countries that differed from those espoused by the Australian Government.

‘Dollars for Diggers’ At the same time that Australia announced that it would increase its military commitment to South Vietnam, Harold Holt, the Federal Treasurer, also announced that America would give Australia special consideration in relation to investments. The Opposition’s attempt to link Holt’s quest in the United States for America to ease its stand on overseas investments, with the decision to increase Australian military commitment did receive attention in Australian papers.187 Further to the mere coverage of parliamentary queries on this point, other comments and reporting, particularly in the Australian, noted this speculation. Letters to the editor indicated some public concern at the virtually simultaneous announcements. In a report from Washington, the Australian on 1 May wrote of Holt’s encouraging response from the United States, ending with a statement from Holt asserting that Australia’s decision to send troops to South Vietnam had been welcomed, and ‘the importance of the move goes beyond the size of the force’.188 While it may have been a general comment expected from an Australian minister in America at the time of Australia’s announcement to send troops, its placement in the report could have been misconstrued by readers. Pemberton claims that Holt did raise with Rusk Australia’s decision to increase military aid in Vietnam as an example of Australia’s close links with the US: This does not prove, however, that this objective was a motive in the government’s original decision in April. In 114


any event, Holt’s efforts were in vain. Australia did not receive any special consideration, though the capitalinflow matter never became the serious problem the government feared.189 While Pemberton rejected the ‘dollars for diggers’ argument, he noted that the timing of Menzies’ plea for special consideration for Australia did unfortunately coincide with America’s concern over increased Allied support in Vietnam. The view that Holt had gained special consideration as the result of Australia’s decision to increase its commitment in Vietnam was believed by some, and speculated on by others in the Australian press. One writer to the Advertiser noted the coincidence of Lodge’s visit, the decision to send 800 ‘Diggers’, and Holt’s efforts in Washington to affect consideration on tariffs and investment. The letter concluded ‘ “Australian blood for American dollars” is the cry and, … it is probably pretty close to the truth’.190 In a letter published in the Courier-Mail, similar sentiments were expressed under the heading, ‘Dollars for men’: Sir Robert, in effect, has said to President Johnson, ‘give us some dollars, and in exchange you can have our best young men to use as a spearhead to save American lives in Vietnam.’ 191 It is difficult to assess the role of the press in the formulation of the view among some readers that the Government had made a crude deal in ‘men for dollars’, although the reporting of the parliamentary debate certainly fuelled the proposition in the media. The Financial Review headlined its news report on Australia’s decision to increase military aid in Vietnam with the heading, ‘As Vietnam defence commitment steps up … troops move strengthens Holt’s hand’.192 On 30 April the SMH headed a report with ‘Holt warns U.S. capital curbs may affect defence effort’.193 Certainly copy from political reporters, often only reiterating comment from the Opposition in parliamentary debate, helped to produce the view—the value of a perspective published because Parliament was sitting. Press gallery journalist Wallace Brown cited it as a possible agenda item for the Labor Party response in parliamentary debate on the decision to increase Committing a Battalion

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Australia’s commitment in Vietnam on 4 May. His predicted Labor item read: ‘An alleged connection between the announcement and the visit to Washington of the Treasurer (Mr. Holt) to attempt to persuade the U.S. not to reduce its capital inflow’.194 The same prediction can be found in the Canberra Times which suggested the Opposition’s willingness to flag this view.195 When the matter was raised in the parliamentary debate on 4 May, Menzies rejected the view that men had been bargained for dollars as a ‘monstrosity of a proposal’.196 Holt made no secret of his use of this argument. In the front-page lead in the Age on 3 May, Holt was reported to have ‘referred to the U.S. willingness to help Australia in the context of Australia’s general economic development and its commitments in South East Asia—including the decision to send combat troops to Vietnam’.197 The military connection was also registered in the report claiming that Holt ‘had pointed out that Australia’s external reserves position was rapidly worsening, but at the time the defence programme was adopted, there had been no reason to anticipate anything like the American restrictions’.198 One direct example of press-initiated support for the argument linking ‘men and dollars’ came from cartoonist Bruce Petty in the Australian. His anti-commitment stance, in line with his paper’s stance, was carried in his many cartoons. He depicted Holt rushing down a gang plank waving a poster, ‘U.S. $ flow to Continent’, while behind, walking up the gang plank were soldiers carrying a ‘To Vietnam’ sign.199 The following day in the Australian, a feature heading on the ‘Letters to the Editor’ column read: ‘Vietnam: a cynical deal in lives for dollars’.200 The lack of information that permitted this position of uncertainty and conjecture was the responsibility of the Government which had not informed the Australian public of its intentions during the months in which it had discussed with the United States the possible increase of military aid to South Vietnam. The Government, through secrecy, and Holt, through political ineptitude, had allowed one aspect of opposition to the decision to become a publicly debated issue. In certain instances, such as Petty’s cartoon, this view had been encouraged by press expression of support for the ‘dollars for diggers’ theory. For the most part, the issue arose from the Government’s mismanagement and the attempt of some in the Opposition to accuse the Government of a sell-out. The issue illustrated the value of parliamentary sittings to encourage reporting of the issue, the 116


added attraction being the conflict between Government and Opposition.

The Silent Soldiers Paltridge, the Defence Minister, released a press statement on 29 April which announced that the 1st Battalion, RAR, would be sent to South Vietnam. Few details were offered about the men who were to go or their commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel I. R. W. Brumfield. The press release reiterated that the decision was in response to ‘a request from the South Vietnamese Government for additional military aid’.201 It announced that Australian troops would be deployed in securing specific areas in South Vietnam with the US military. In three one-sentence paragraphs, sketchy information was given about the battalion, indicating its readiness for ‘operations in South East Asian theatre’.202 The press release contained the usual minimal public information of Defence press releases related to Vietnam. According to the release Australians could not know any details about the deployment of the battalion because these had yet to be worked out ‘in consultation with South Vietnamese and United States authorities and details would in any case be subject to security restrictions’.203 Significantly, the role of the Australian troops in Vietnam would be partly advised by a report from AAP-Reuters, Saigon, on 7 May. It claimed that Australian troops would join American paratroopers from the US 173rd Airborne Brigade at Bien Hoa and would also be deployed at Vung Tau. This information had come from ‘informed sources’ in Saigon.204 This would be confirmed by the officer commanding the 1st Battalion weeks later.205 In this first press release from Defence on 29 April, the use of ‘security’ as a blanket for non-communication was already being used. The silence imposed on the Army was evident in its efforts to avoid all comment. Levels of secrecy, as some reports hinted, reached ridiculous levels and did little to aid public appreciation of the role of its military in South Vietnam or to establish any identity with the men who would serve. As Greg Lockhart, who served in Vietnam, states: ‘The main effect of official secrecy was to hamper the preparation of Australian forces to Vietnam. (It is hard to imagine how it could have hampered the enemy.)’206 In 1962 there had been virtually no coverage of the men who would be sent to South Vietnam. No one questioned the lack of Committing a Battalion

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military input into the communication process. In a very restrained way, some reports noted the secrecy imposed on press coverage of the men going in 1965. The page one heading in the Australian reflected more about secrecy than security requirements. Under a photograph of Brumfield, the caption read ‘The only man in the battalion whose name is officially mentioned’. The report stated that the Army would not say when the battalion was leaving for South Vietnam. ‘The army is also silent on the names of the soldiers, what they think about the decision, and what the commanding officer thinks.’207 The reporter highlighted the limited information that had produced only one important fact in Australia about the troops’ involvement. This was a particularly important issue to raise, given more valuable information was filtering through from reports in Saigon.208 The sailing of HMAS Sydney in the middle of the night deprived soldiers of publicity that might have served to emphasise the reality of the commitment and Australia’s identification with it. Despite all military efforts to keep the sailing time a secret and the names of the support destroyers from the press, all was duly reported on 27 May.209 The SMH editorial recorded the departure with jingoistic, emotional commentary, which also caught something of the repetition of history: Few Australians with any imagination or any sense of history can have been unmoved by the night departure, with doused lights and the grey destroyers waiting, of H.M.A.S. Sydney with a thousand young Australian soldiers on board, bound for a bitter war in a far country. They are regular soldiers, volunteers all, who came forward and enlisted and trained, who accepted the discipline and suffered the disabilities of Army life, in order that they might be prepared at need to defend their country and their country’s interests.210 The need to differentiate between ‘their country’ and ‘their country’s interests’ suggested the SMH’s understanding of the political rather than military basis of the soldiers’ commitment. According to the SMH these men represented the best-trained and equipped soldiers ever to leave Australia’s shores. During May the Courier-Mail published a series of articles by Dr Tom Millar on the state of 118


Australia’s defence. Millar warned that Asian conflict in the preceding fifteen years had proved that heavy armour and ‘well-fed foreign mercenaries living in the cities’ did not win the battles. The need was for ‘adaptability, endurance, sympathy for the population and support from them, making use of all modern devices without allowing them to become an end in themselves … We can only hope the Australian Army has these characteristics, since it issues no information on the subject …’211 Millar’s concerns were timely and indicated a depth of understanding about the country and the nature of the war with no ‘front line’ that soldiers needed to recognise. But his criticism, like that of the press asking for more information about the soldiers and how they were to be used, elicited no response from Defence officials. Press generalisations, such as ‘best trained’ and ‘best equipped’, removed the need for official statements that may not have produced similar confidence.

A Divided Australia A comparison of the reporting of the decision to send advisers to South Vietnam in 1962 with the decision to increase that commitment in 1965 indicates the development of a more questioning approach among a broad spectrum of the Australian public. The press reflected Australia’s developing awareness of South-East Asia. Papers sought public opinion in street interviews, obviously an easy method of reporting, but nevertheless even this type of crude indicator had been missing from the reporting in 1962. The Australian asked 105 people at random in the streets of Australia’s capital cities if Australia should send troops to South Vietnam, and received a response of 69 for, 32 against and 4 undecided.212 The reported comments illustrated a diversity of opinions. These included a dislike for fighting America’s war, the need for Australians to meet their duty in the Anzac spirit, and that it was better to fight the Chinese there rather than in Australia. Two commented that Australian troops were needed more in Malaysia.213 The report also noted that in Canberra many ‘people didn’t seem to care one way or the other—particularly the young ones’.214 This generalised comment was reinforced by an article in the Canberra Times that displayed a certain hostility towards the indifference of some Canberra citizens to the decision to become militarily Committing a Battalion

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involved in South Vietnam. A Canberra Times reporter had randomly asked 44 shoppers in the Monaro Mall and Civic Centre their views on sending Australian troops to Vietnam215 and found the responses to his questions ‘staggering’. Twenty-six adults—men and women— said they had heard of Vietnam, but had no idea what was happening there. These comments suggest that the communication of even front-page news had failed to incite opinion or even basic knowledge of Australia’s intended role in the Vietnam conflict. Two young public servants thought that Vietnam was part of Indonesia. A young mother claimed that war reports gave her the ‘creeps’, she only liked ‘funny stories’, and one man who ‘took pride in his knowledge of Vietnam’, thought it was time the Russians ‘were kicked out of Vietnam’. One man was reported as saying that Vietnam was not the concern of the ‘average’ person, ‘That’s what we pay those political blokes for’.216 From material in the report it would be difficult to argue against the journalist’s conclusion that, for most shoppers questioned, the situation in Vietnam ‘never crossed their minds … After all, one’s garden is a far more homely topic.’217 Significantly, of the 26, 15 ‘said they had not heard of Australia’s decision to send 800 troops to Vietnam. Yet most of them said they read the newspapers everyday and watched T.V.’218 The report could not be regarded as a credible source for wider generalisations, yet it is worth noting that the final response indicated that even what the media had conveyed on the conflict in South-East Asia had failed to make an impact on the consciousness of at least some readers and viewers—no matter how small and random the sample that provided the Canberra Times report. Some responsibility for the lack of interest in Vietnam and clouded perspectives about what was going on there surely rested with the Government’s communicative record on the conflict, particularly since the media relied so heavily on Government interpretations and announcements about Australian commitment to initiate their news reports. Later years would show the importance of citizens having been better informed initially, in the early years of escalation, by the media and politicians. According to a gallup poll published on 14 May in the Herald (page one), most Australians were in favour of sending 800 troops to South Vietnam.219 The poll questioned 1700 men and woman all over Australia and found that 52 per cent approved, 37 per cent disapproved and 11 per cent were undecided. Men were two to one in favour, while women were equally divided, and no variation of 120


response was recorded in age differences. While 70 per cent of Liberal-Country Party voters said ‘Yes’, only 34 per cent of Labor voters approved. The interesting comparison in percentage of approval for sending 800 men was shown in the 53 per cent approval of US bombing of military targets. The approval rating for Americans remaining in Vietnam was 64 per cent, the same percentage that believed that if the US withdrew Thailand and Malaysia would be taken over by Communists. The poll indicated a greater public fear of American withdrawal from South Vietnam than support for Australian assistance to American forces there. The SMH believed that communication of the urgency and importance of the decision to the Australian people was the Government’s responsibility. Despite all the coverage of the decision and pro- and anti- demonstrations, the paper made the following assertion on 7 May: No Australian with any awareness of his country could deny that the dominant mood is one of indifference and even apathy, and there is a dismal lack of appreciation of the need for a national effort.220 While the intent of the editorial was to secure national support for the Government’s decision, it raised two important issues for the future of Australia’s involvement: an informed public and a supportive public. The two were not necessarily compatible, as reporting of the decision had already proved. The emphasis in publication of letters to the editor in the SMH in the period following Menzies’ commitment of a battalion to South Vietnam was interesting. A front-page photograph on 7 May, of Dame Patti Menzies curtseying to Australia’s retiring Governor-General, Lord De L’Isle, dressed in his ceremonial plumage, departing home to England, produced more letters during the following week than news of Australia’s military commitment.221 By contrast, the departure photograph in the Australian on the same day, depicting Menzies and Dame Patti in tears as De L’Isle departed, became a stimulus for letters demanding why there were ‘No tears for Vietnam troops’.222 The two papers had depicted the same event differently on page one but the varied response suggests that readers of the two newspapers also differed. Committing a Battalion

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News reports indicated division not only between Australians but between representative groups. This division of support for the Government’s decision was represented in reports of the clergy across and within denominations223, unions224, and in the many and varied responses to ‘Letters to the Editor’. During the war years ‘academics, demonstrators and Communists’ were often linked as a synonymous group, representing disloyalty to the national interest in their opposition to Australia’s involvement. A cartoon by Eyre Jr in the SMH illustrated this perceived consensus between supposedly unlikely ‘bedfellows’. An academic and a unionist, carrying identical protest banners, were depicted colliding on a blind corner. The unionist exclaimed, ‘What’s the idea of stealing my brain?’225 Generalising about group responses such as that of the ‘press’, ‘unions’, ‘clergy’, ‘students’ or ‘protesters’ provided a sense of consensus within groupings that was convenient rather than accurate. A short analysis of university reaction below exemplifies the division of opinion and the uncertainty within one specific environment of response.

Reporting University Reaction While there was a very definite and immediate response from some within the universities against the war there is also evidence within the newspapers to suggest a vocal pro-involvement attitude as well. The first reported reaction from universities in Australia to Menzies’ announcement was the organisation of a protest against the Government’s decision by Dr Robin Gollan, from the History Department at The Australian National University.226 A public meeting called in Canberra six days later by Dr Michael McCabe, also of The Australian National University, failed to come to agreement on the decision to send troops and a committee was set up to ‘study SouthEast Asia’.227 In response to a debate at Melbourne University’s Union House, 600 students, after a three-hour debate, voted 312 to 200 in favour of the debate having been won by the Government to the pertinent statement, ‘That we are right to be in Vietnam’.228 Two journalists, both of whom had been war correspondents as well as foreign reporters, were invited as debaters. Denis Warner spoke for the Government side, while wellknown author and journalist, Osmar White, spoke for the Opposition. The two student representatives indicated the split of opinion along political lines. David Kemp, president of the University Liberal Club, 122


spoke for the motion; Alex Clarke, a tireless protestor against the war and a member of the University Labor Club, spoke against.229 But political affiliations did not always determine the response. In a letter to the editor written by Gareth Evans (later a Labor Minister in the Hawke and Keating governments), signed officially as president of The University of Melbourne’s Students’ Representative Council, Evans supported the Australian Government’s stand in South Vietnam.230 Acknowledging that this stand would do little to bring a ‘speedy’ conclusion to the war, he nevertheless argued that the decision would improve American-Australian relations and boost American morale. America would be ‘likely now to treat Australia more sympathetically than its treaty obligations demand, in the event of our future danger’.231 Perhaps in reference to the debate, Evans stated: that as the ‘domino’ theorists persuasively argue, a stand has to be made somewhere if the whole of S-E Asia is not going to topple ultimately into the Communist camp … Australia must support the U.S. stand and if this means giving positive military assistance, then troops must be sent.232 An important qualification made by Evans was that conscripts should not be sent. His support, registered in 1965, for Australia’s involvement changed over the course of the war and after. A letter, signed by academics from Melbourne and Monash universities and published in the SMH and the Age on 25 April, again illustrated the problem of criticising American and Australian policy in Vietnam without having that stance read as anti-American.233 While the writers criticised the inadequacies of military intervention, and the failure to acknowledge that the Viet Cong had support in South Vietnam, and believed that negotiation was needed, they prefaced their letter with the following statement: We are not presenting a general criticism of the American objective of supporting Asian Governments against external attack, or in certain circumstances, of supporting them against subversion. We are not opposing Australia’s alliance with America, nor are we concerned to criticise in particular the dispatch of Australian troops to Vietnam.234 Committing a Battalion

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Their ‘grave concern’ over American policy in Vietnam and ‘the unqualified character of Australia’s response to it’ lost impact in the necessity to qualify criticism. Reporting revealed the dominance of university political groups in initiating student response and in one instance the constraint placed upon response. Confusion was demonstrated in the complete reversal of the decision to give ‘conditional support’ for the South Vietnamese Liberation Front by the Australian Student Labor Federation. Initially students representing all states except Tasmania supported the above motion by 28 to 25. Later, when a recount was ordered, it was supported by only 2 students with 29 against, while 23 abstained. Sydney University voted as a block and its 11 representatives abstained on the recount after supporting the motion when it was first put.235 The reason for this turnabout was an ultimatum from Labor MP, Fred Daly. He refused to address the students because their organisation was influenced by a ‘strong pro-Communist element’: It is unintelligible to me that people, who supposedly have the interests of the A.L.P. at heart could brazenly adopt such a stand.236 This report indicated the early sensitivity of one Labor politician to the dangers of advocating an oppositional stance to Government policy on Vietnam. At The University of Adelaide a meeting was called by the Students’ Representative Council in response to a petition of twenty students to a proposed motion against the Government’s position: The motion proposed by Mr. J. Young and seconded by Mr. J. Bannon was—‘That this meeting takes the view that American policy in Vietnam is unrealistic and unjustified and that the sending of troops to support it is therefore against Australia’s national interest.237 The meeting was reportedly attended by 700 students and the motion was ‘lost by a comfortable majority’. The transparency of the page one report, like its heading, was obvious. Those who supported the motion were ‘hissed, jeered and booed’. Their arguments were not reported. Those who spoke against the motion were ‘warmly 124


applauded’. A student condoning the war responding to an interjection that he should go, replied that he was a member of the CMF (Citizen Military Forces) and was willing to fight. Reportedly, his reply ‘was greeted with thunderous applause’.238 Spurred to comment by the affirmative response of Adelaide University students to the Government’s policy in Vietnam, commentator Stewart Cockburn wrote a lengthy article in the Advertiser on the changing values of students. For Cockburn, these were represented by the students’ political conservatism. ‘It seems generally agreed,’ claimed Cockburn, after spending two days speaking to a cross-section of Adelaide University students, that ‘up to 80 p.c. of all today’s students hold right-wing political views’.239 He dismissed the depiction of students as radicals: If the students are rebels, they would be rebels without the fierce ideological causes of a generation ago. They rebel on issues not philosophies.240 This view was in stark contrast to the press depiction of students in some cartoons and photographs, though not so readily in the content of reports.

An Enriched Public Debate … But Won by the Government with Press Endorsement Menzies’ ability to set the press agenda, apparent in the decision to send advisers, was again evident in the decision to send a battalion. His careful attention to publicising his response to the challenge from the Anglican bishops provided an excellent public conditioning for his announcement made on 29 April. Front-page reports during April conveyed an urgency in the situation in Vietnam and allowed Menzies to present the need for Australia to support America in its lone stance against Communism and its fight for the right of South Vietnam to establish a democratic government. The reliance of all debaters on American arguments emphasised the impossibility of independent consideration of Australia’s involvement in Vietnam. The press dismissal of the Opposition’s response indicated a softening to the reporting of the Labor Party as Communist sympathisers, though the final verdict still espoused that that opposition to the war was opposition to the American alliance. Newspaper Committing a Battalion

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commentary failed to seriously assess oppositional points of view to involvement, presenting them more consistently as disloyal to Australia’s best interests. This was evident in press response not only to the Opposition but also to the clerics who publicly sought clarification on Australia’s war policy. The reporting of debate for or against involvement indicated the support for the contentions carried by Government and press commentary. The confusion raised in debate on China, the nature of the war, and the sacrifice of Australian soldiers for economic gain, produced a confusing mix of public and official information from which readers could try to comprehend the meaning of Australia’s involvement. In a short period some newspapers had produced a wealth of opinion about the war and Australia’s participation in it but the boundaries of all deliberation remained the same. Throughout almost all, the consideration of the need for the American alliance and the fear of Communism were the basis from which argument developed. This constricting basis affected all participants in the public debate. Despite valuable counterpoints to the Government’s decision to commit a battalion raised in some editorials, the assumption that Australian security was threatened and the importance of supporting America through military commitment, forced oppositional points of view into a moral arena which no newspaper commentary was willing to challenge. This weakened the impact of the Australian’s clear opposition to military involvement. It was reinforced by the lack of any Australian criticism of the reasons for American intervention. Even the Australian had written that America was in Vietnam ‘out of a sense of duty and a brave acceptance of the responsibilities of their power’.241 No paper questioned Menzies’ failure to provide the written request for military aid from South Vietnam, though they duly reported it. Any detailed understanding of the role of the Australian military was relegated to simplistic acknowledgements of ‘tokenism’ or patriotic descriptions of the professionalism of Australian soldiers. No investigative journalism sought to explain the differences between Australia’s assessment of what was required in Vietnam and the views of other countries, especially Asian. The reported international response was greater than for any other decision related to escalation because SEATO was meeting in London at the same time as Australia announced its increased commitment. The interest in 126


British reaction by Australian newspapers indicated a lingering concern of many that Australia’s decision stretched its military capacity and could undermine Australia’s relationship with Britain and hence, British determination to remain in South-East Asia. A number of newspapers published specialist foreign commentary supporting the view that a military solution was not the right response to the developing conflict in South Vietnam. The Canberra Times had also raised this question, but only once in editorial comment. Warner consistently stressed that improved living conditions were a prerequisite for political and economic stability in South Vietnam. He continued to state that the war could not be won but, as illustrated, could carry a public debate at Melbourne University on the need for intervention because of the American alliance and ‘falling dominoes’. As Warner predicted the dangers of fighting an unwinnable war were not queried, though at the beginning of involvement Warner had pushed for consideration of the dangers of American withdrawal from the region if the war was lost. Warner’s most significant consideration at this time, as in 1962, lost impact because in the tenets of argument for involvement he also embraced fear of China and expansionist Communism and the American alliance. His opinions did not impact as significantly as they should have at this time on the Australian public or political conscience because of these inherent inconsistencies. The same could be said of all contributors to the debate; an Achilles heel, the American alliance, seemed ever present in the oppositional stances reported in the newspapers Editorials can be a significant gauge of a newspaper’s dominant sympathies on an issue or policy. It is not sufficient to draw definite conclusions about the coverage of particular papers, however, through the study of editorials alone.242 There was evidence in some papers of a consistent argument in features, cartoons and editorial comment. This was true for the Australian, which opposed more forthrightly and consistently than any other source of comment Australia’s participation in the war. Opposition was not evident in the Herald’s coverage. The West Australian supported the Government’s stance and although it published only nine letters to the editor, seven of these opposed the decision to send troops to Vietnam. 243 Public response significantly enriched newspaper coverage in April and May 1965. Some reports also indicated a lack of public Committing a Battalion

127

interest but the fact that this too was an issue in 1965 illustrated how the communication environment in Australia had changed since 1962. The value of newspapers in the communication process is directly related to a balance in source initiation of coverage. The quality of the role of the press in communication is its capacity and willingness to absorb and, through publication, redirect multiple source considerations in their pages for the consideration of policymakers, or those whom theorists often term ‘the elites’. Despite the profusion of issues raised in newspapers indicating comment from varied sources within the community and the enrichment this brought to their columns, the certainty with which the majority of newspaper commentary embraced the main tenets of intervention, the domino theory and the American alliance, ensured the dominance of the Government perspective.

Notes Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, pp. 350, 379. Hallin, The ‘Uncensored War’, p. 19. For a slightly different approach to this incident, see Turner, Lyndon Johnson’s Dual War: Vietnam and the Press. ‘Whatever the reporters’ level of incredulity, few questions were raised in August of 1964.’ (p. 85) 3 For an extended analysis of the announcement, see Murphy, Harvest of Fear, ‘Conscription, 1964’, pp. 114–20. 4 CPD, HR 45, 29 April 1965, pp. 1060–1. 5 Tiffen, ‘The War the Media Lost: Australian News Coverage of Vietnam’, pp. 121–4. 6 Freudenberg, A Certain Grandeur: Gough Whitlam in Politics, pp. 46–7. 7 ibid., p. 46. 8 ‘Playing party politics with defence’, SMH, 13 November 1964, editorial, p. 2. 9 ‘Defence issue in election’, Age, 12 November 1964, editorial, p. 2. 10 ‘Tasks in defence’, Herald, 12 November 1964, editorial, p. 4. See also ‘Defence and economy’, Canberra Times, 12 November 1964, editorial, p. 2. 11 Speech made by the Prime Minister, the Rt Hon. Sir Robert Menzies, to the Federal Council of the Liberal Party of Australia at the Hotel Canberra, Canberra, 12 April 1965. His remarks were reported on 13 April. (Menzies file, Parliamentary Library—see particularly, pp. 7–10.) 12 Pemberton, All the Way: Australia’s Road to Vietnam, Chapter 10, ‘A Tricky Problem—1964–65’, pp. 276–97; Sexton, War for the Asking, Chapter 8, ‘By Invitation Only March–April 1965’; Chapter 9, ‘The Final Days, 22–29 April 1965’, pp. 136–72. See also Hugh Lamberton, ‘Historic letter found’, Canberra Times, 17 February 1995, p. 10. 13 Pemberton, All the Way, p. 315. 14 See coverage on 5 May 1965 in Payne, ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War’, vol. 2, Appendix II, pp. 55–60. For example, John Larkins, ‘Why did 1 2

128


15 16 17 18

19 20 21 22

23 24

25

26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

37 38 39 40

41

42 43 44 45 46 47

Lodge come? It’s not for me to say—Menzies’, Herald, 5 May 1965, p. 5. ‘Our policy in Vietnam’, Courier-Mail, 22 April 1965, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ibid. ibid. A justification for this was offered by reminding readers that ‘in the hungry world of politics the meek are not always blessed’. ‘P.M. shows contempt for public’, Australian, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 8. Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries: The Life of Politics, p. 154. ‘P.M. shows contempt for public’, Australian, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 8. For example, the headline in the Courier-Mail on 21 April 1965 read: ‘Australia gives Lodge pledge of help to “the hilt” in Viet. War’. The text of the report stated: ‘Further Australian military aid in South Vietnam therefore will be given if the Americans say it is needed’. Appleton, Unfinished: George Appleton Remembers and Reflects, p. 161. Canberra Times, 22 April 1965. See also Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, p. 366. There were twenty-five Anglican diocesan bishops at this time. For detail on who signed, see Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, p. 489, endnote 13. Australian, 15 March 1965, p. 1. ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid. Canberra Times, 26 March 1965. ibid. SMH, 27 March 1965. Age, 12 April 1965. ibid. ibid. The letter was signed by Reverend R. H. Sutherland, Secretary of the Victorian Council of Churches. Advertiser, 24 April 1965. See also SMH, 24 April 1965. ‘The Prime Minister and the bishops’, SMH, 27 March 1965, editorial, p. 2. ‘The ten bishops’ view of Vietnam’, Advertiser, 13 April 1965, editorial, p. 2. For example, Advertiser, 23 April 1965; Age, 30 April 1965. From 19 April to 30 April (with the exception of 26 April, when Vietnam news was p. 2), the Advertiser reported Vietnam news, local and from Saigon, on page one. On five of those days it was the lead report. For example, Menzies’ reply was printed in full in the Daily Telegraph, 22 April 1965 and SMH, 22 April 1965, p. 1. Another report quoting Menzies’ reply appeared on page ten in the SMH. SMH, 22 April 1965. ibid. ibid. ibid. Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, p. 359. ‘Cabinet acts. Big Aust. force for Sth. Vietnam’, Daily Telegraph, 29 April 1965, page one lead.


129

E. H. Cox, ‘Our soldiers going to Vietnam’, Herald, 29 April 1965, p. 1. The Courier-Mail reported that Voice of America had also carried the information that Australia would announce on Thursday that it was sending a battalion to Vietnam and this would be ‘at the request of the South Vietnamese Government’. ‘U.S. told at 3 am’, Courier-Mail, 30 April 1965, p. 1. 50 Chipp and Larkin, Don Chipp: The Third Man, p. 49. (Chipp refers to Thursday 24 April, which he obviously meant as 29 April.) 51 ibid., p. 50. 52 ibid., p. 51. The written response arrived ‘before the dinner adjournment and Menzies was able to announce it to the House when it resumed at 8 p.m.’. 53 CPD, HR 45, 4 May 1965, p. 1106. 54 See, for example, Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, pp. 371–2. 55 Sexton, War for the Asking, p. 162. 56 ‘Troops to Vietnam’, Herald, 30 April 1965, editorial, p. 4. 57 ‘Australia faces up to reality’, West Australian, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 6. 58 ‘Australians in Vietnam’, Advertiser, 30 April 1965, editorial, p. 2. 59 ‘We are at war’, Courier-Mail, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 1. 60 ‘The war that can’t be won’, Australian, 30 April 1965, editorial, p. 8. 61 ‘We are at war’, Courier-Mail, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 1. 62 ibid. 63 ibid. See, for example, the speech given by Prime Minister Menzies to the Federal Council of the Liberal Party of Australia, Hotel Canberra, 12 April 1965. 64 ‘New tasks in Vietnam’, Age, 30 April 1965, editorial, p. 2. 65 ‘Australia help to South Vietnam’, SMH, 30 April 1965, editorial, p. 2. 66 ibid. 67 ‘South East Asia is one bridge’, Advertiser, 3 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 68 ‘New tasks in Vietnam’, Age, 30 April 1965, editorial, p. 2. 69 ibid. 70 ‘A war on two fronts’, Canberra Times, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 71 ibid. 72 See Edgar, The Politics of the Press, p. 25. 73 ibid. Circulation was less than 60 000 in 1964. 74 ibid. See also Munster, Rupert Murdoch: A Paper Prince, pp. 77–9. Munster was a journalist and edited Nation and later Nation Review. He also discussed the early critical analysis of the paper by Ken Inglis, p. 78. See Inglis, ‘Enter the Australian’, Nation, 25 July 1964. 75 Edgar, The Politics of the Press, pp. 25, 89. 76 ‘Troops for Vietnam’, Daily Mirror, 5 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 77 ‘The war that can’t be won’, Australian, 30 April 1965, editorial. 78 ibid. 79 ibid. 80 ‘Differing with our friends’, Australian, 5 May 1965, editorial, p. 8. 81 ibid. 82 Freudenberg, A Certain Grandeur, p. 51. 48 49

130


A. Ramsey, ‘Artie a prophet without honour—or votes’, SMH, 16 April 1994, p. 33. 84 ibid. 85 Whitlam, Beyond Vietnam, p. 16. This publication contains a clear history of the development of Labor’s Vietnam policies. 86 Murphy, Harvest of Fear, p. 132. For an extended discussion of Labor Vietnam policy at this time, see entire section: ‘The ALP and Foreign Policy’, pp. 129–33. 87 ‘The Vietnam debate’, Age, 5 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 88 ibid. 89 ‘Why Mr. Calwell is wrong’, Advertiser, 6 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 90 ibid. 91 Hannaford, cartoon, ‘Drifting’, Advertiser, 6 May 1965, p. 2. 92 “ ‘Compromised’ over South Vietnam”, Advertiser, 7 May 1965, p. 10. 93 Freudenberg, A Gertain Grandeur, p. 54. 94 ibid. Quoted from CPD, HR 45, 4 May 1965, p. 1102 ff., pp. 54–5. The comment was printed in news reports, for example, ‘Labor attacks decision on Vietnam, “Not wise, right” ’, Age, 5 May 1965, p. 1. 95 Freudenberg, A Gertain Grandeur, pp. 54–5. 96 ‘The Vietnam debate’, Age, 5 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 97 W. Brown, ‘Both sides inconsistent on Vietnam’, Courier-Mail, 8 May 1965, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 3. 98 ‘Guaranteeing our national future’, Courier-Mail, 6 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 99 ‘First-class debate on Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 5 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 100 ibid. 101 D. Warner, ‘Our gravest decision since 1939’, SMH, 1 May 1965, p. 2; D. Warner, ‘Vietnam’s war is hard, dirty’, Courier-Mail, 1 May 1965, p. 5. 102 SMH, 1 May 1965, p. 3. In the Herald, 30 April, the same article was headed ‘Why we’re sending men to this rough, tough war. S. Vietnam: The facts’, p. 4. 103 D. Warner, ‘Our gravest decision since 1939’, SMH, 1 May 1965, p. 2. 104 ibid. 105 ibid. 106 ibid. 107 ibid. 108 R. Hughes, ‘Americans say they won’t forget’, Herald, 1 May 1965, p. 4. 109 ibid. 110 D. Warner, ‘Danger in the North—The truth about troops for Vietnam’, Courier-Mail, 11 May 1965, p. 2. 111 ibid. 112 ibid. 113 Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, p. 335. 114 W. Lippmann, ‘A straw man in Vietnam’, Age, 15 May 1965, p. 2. 115 ibid. 116 ibid. 117 It ‘was finally tabled in the Parliament over six years later, a few months before the last Australian troops were withdrawn from Vietnam’. (Sexton, War for the Asking, p. 172) 83


131

‘800 Australian fighting men for Vietnam. PM Statement’, Canberra Times, 30 April 1965, page one lead. 119 Daily Telegraph, 30 April 1965. It also noted in a small heading that America was ‘delighted’. 120 ‘Australia to send 800 to fight in Vietnam. Request’, West Australian, 30 April 1965, page one lead. 121 ‘1,000 Australians for Vietnam. Govt. responds to appeal for front-line troops’, Age, 30 April 1965, page one lead. 122 ibid. 123 ibid. 124 ‘Vietnam greets decision to send troops’, Age, 3 May 1965, p. 3. 125 Sexton, War for the Asking, p. 172. Sexton notes ‘the circumstances of this “request” quite clear in his [Quat’s] letter—so clear that it could not have been produced by Menzies even if he had had it when he made the announcement. It was finally tabled six years later, a few months before the last Australian troops were withdrawn from Vietnam.’ 126 ‘New tasks in Vietnam’, Age, 30 April 1965, editorial, p. 2. 127 From a speech made by Hasluck to the Forrest Division Conference of the Liberal and Country League at Bridgetown Town Hall, WA, in 1965. (Hasluck file, Parliamentary Library) 128 S. Stephens, ‘Troops on two fronts’, Advertiser, 1 May 1965, p. 2. 129 ibid. 130 Advertiser, 4 May 1965, page one lead. 131 ‘Why Mr. Calwell is wrong’, Advertiser, 6 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. 132 ibid. 133 Australian, 26 March 1965, ‘Looking on—with Douglas Brass’. 134 D. Warner, ‘Our gravest decision since 1939’, SMH, 1 May 1965, p. 2. 135 Herald, 1 May 1965. 136 West Australian, 1 May 1965. Barker made no comment on this point himself though for a number of years while Australians fought in Vietnam the Government sold wheat to China. 137 Edwards, ‘Vietnam—how the “bullets” backfired’, SMH, 6 June 1989. See also Edwards with Pemberton, Crises and Commitments, pp. 372–4. 138 Herald, 14 May 1965. Compare this with 52 per cent support of the decision to send a batallion. This is discussed later. 139 In lamenting that South Vietnam should have become the battleground ‘on which we must fight’, the Sun Herald claimed that it was not to ‘shore up cliques’ and certainly not to ‘conquer North Vietnam’ but rather to resist Communist aggression. This was ‘the opportunity to convince China, before it becomes a thermo-nuclear power, that aggression is impracticable as a policy’ and because Communist victory in South Vietnam ‘would open up the whole of South East Asia’. (‘Our stake in South Vietnam’, Sun Herald, 2 May 1965, editorial) 140 For example, ‘North Vietnam is under Communist rule. The political views of Hanoi are not to be distinguished from those of Peking … How could we negoiate with Communist China, the home of agression …’. Bishop’s Letter on Vietnam. Statement by the Prime Minister, the Rt Hon. Sir Robert Menzies, press release, PM no. 34/1965 (Parliamentary Library) 118

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141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159

160 161

162 163

164 165 166

167

168

169 170 171 172

J. Weir, ‘Fabulous Vietnam’, Herald, 1 May 1965, p. 29. ibid. ibid. ibid. R. Hughes, ‘Americans say they won’t forget’, Herald, 1 May 1965, p. 4. Australian, 1 May 1965, p. 7. ibid. ibid. ibid. West Australian, 27 April 1965. SMH, 27 April 1965, p. 1. Barker at this time was writing from South-East Asia rather than America. G. Barker, ‘Two faces of an eerie war’, Daily Telegraph, 30 April 1965. ibid. ‘We are at war’, Courier-Mail, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 1. ‘First-class debate on Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 5 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. See, for example, Canberra Times, 1 May 1965. Courier-Mail, 1 May 1965. ‘Hands off say Soviet and France’, Courier-Mail, 1 May 1965; ‘ “Hands off” Vietnam’, Advertiser; ‘Russia and France warn; Hands off’, Canberra Times; ‘Russia, France in “hands off Vietnam” call—Foreign interference “impermissible” ’, Age. The SMH mentioned the communiqué on page one but its report appeared page three, SMH, 1 May 1965. J. Turner, Advertiser, 4 May 1965, ‘To the Editor’. In its editorial the Australian briefly mentioned that Australians should have been informed first, 30 April 1965. H. Michael, ‘Some doubts in U.K. on Viet. decision’, Age, 1 May 1965, p. 5. The report was written from an AAP report also used by the West Australian and the Advertiser. Advertiser, 1 May 1965. ibid. West Australian, 1 May 1965. See also Herald, 1 May 1965, Guardian, Manchester. Another incidental report in the Age noted that Emrik Blumenfeld, a German Member of Parliament visiting Canberra, expressed surprise at the ‘frosty’ response of the British to the decision to send a battalion. It was his private opinion that the British should remember that Malaya was close to Vietnam. He believed it was good for the Americans not to have to fight on their own. Only firmness would bring the Communists to the negotiating table. (Age, 4 May 1965) R. Heymanson, ‘U.S. likes our Viet decision—and timing helps Holt’, Herald, 30 April 1965, p. 2. ‘U.S. administration “elated” ’, SMH, 1 May 1965, p. 1. ‘Australian move hailed’, Advertiser, 1 May 1965, p. 3. Daily Telegraph, 1 May 1965. Canberra Times, 1 May 1965. The report also carried news of the Pope’s appeal to avert war by encouraging negotiation, although he made no specific reference to Vietnam.


133

173 174 175 176 177 178 179

180

181 182 183

184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192

193 194 195

196 197

198 199

Canberra Times, 1 May 1965. ibid. ‘Our help enough, Viet says’, Herald, 30 March 1965, p. 2. Herald, 1 May 1965. ibid. ‘Hanoi protest on our troops’, Herald, 1 May 1965, p. 1. For example, Australian, 4 May 1965. A report in the Herald, 20 March 1965, stated that Hasluck had denied reports of any rift between New Zealand and Australia on American policy in Vietnam. New Zealand was reported to have had ‘reservations’ on the widening of the war by America in South Vietnam. Courier-Mail, 4 May 1965. It was headed ‘No N.Z. move on Viet. help’, while a very similar report in the Age, 4 May 1965, was headed ‘N.Z. still considers Vietnam force’. Courier-Mail, 4 May 1965. ibid. The article was based on an address Morse delivered at the Portland State University, Oregon, 23 April 1965. Morse was described as a ‘lawyer, farmer, scholar, educator’. (Senator Wayne Morse, ‘American policy is leading to war in Asia’, Australian, 5 May 1965) Australian, 5 May 1965. ibid. Petty, cartoon, ‘Another bridge demolished’, Australian, 7 May 1965, p. 8. For example, see CPD, HR 45, pp. 1093, 1099, 1111. Australian, 1 May 1965. Pemberton, All the Way, p. 315. Netherby, ‘Vietnam move timing’, Advertiser, 10 May 1965, p. 4. S. V. Parker, Courier-Mail, 4 May 1965. Financial Review, 30 April 1965. The introductory sentence stated: ‘Commitment of a regular Army battalion to South Vietnam … is expected to strengthen the arguments of the Treasurer, Mr H. E. Holt, for Australian relief from the United States’ capital curbs’. SMH, 30 April 1965, p. 3. Courier-Mail, 4 May 1965. Canberra Times, 4 May 1965. ‘The timing of the decision which invited the suspicion that it was made to curry favour with the United States and help the Treasurer [Mr Holt] in his negotiations over American investment in Australia.’ Courier-Mail, 5 May 1965. Age, 3 May 1965. The heading ‘Americans see no halt to capital Mr. Holt told’ certainly produced a public view of a successful mission by Holt. Under the heading ‘More than the 60 dollar question’, the editorial in the Australian questioned Holt’s optimism, ‘the gains for Australia must be limited in some very important respects’. (Australian, 4 May 1965) Age, 3 May 1965. Australian, 3 May 1965. Petty’s cartoons in the Australian were in total contrast in intent to those of Hannaford in the Age who supported the Australian Government decision.

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200 201

202 203 204

205

206

207 208

209

210 211

212

213 214 215

216 217 218 219

220 221 222

223

Australian, 4 May 1965. ‘Australian battalion for Vietnam’, Defence Public Relations press release, no. 5, 29 April 1965. ibid. ibid. ‘Troop’s role in South Vietnam; Australians guard bases’, Advertiser, 8 May 1965, p. 1. ‘Battalion on way to Vietnam: Sail today—Some to fly’, Age, 27 May 1965, p. 1. G. Lockhart, ‘Into Battle—Counter Revolution’, in Pemberton (ed.), Vietnam Remembered, p. 44. Australian, 1 May 1965. The Daily Telegaph, 30 April, printed an old photograph of the 1st Battalion, RAR, marching through Sydney streets with the caption, ‘The style of men who will go to Vietnam’. The photograph had been taken in February. ‘Rendezvous in the dark, Australians for Vietnam sail in carrier’, SMH, 27 May 1965, p. 1. ‘A troopship leaving Sydney’, SMH, 28 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. T. B. Millar, ‘Australia’s defence. The army is short of men and equipment— but it has a basis for rapid expansion’, Courier-Mail, 20 May 1965, p. 2. Australian, 1 May 1965. The results were: Sydney, 20 for, 10 against; Melbourne, 18 for, 8 against, 4 undecided; Canberra, 11 for, 4 against; Brisbane, 11 for, 4 against; Adelaide, 9 for, 6 against. ibid. ibid. Staff reporter, ‘Canberra shops on’, Canberra Times, 1 May 1962. For two and a half hours the reporter sought comment. According to the reporter about half of those interviewed were professional people, some were housewives, tradesmen, off-duty servicemen and a few teenagers. ibid. ibid. ibid. Herald, 14 May 1965. ‘In the 1960’s Australia’s only national opinion poll was the Morgan Gallup Poll, affiliated to Gallup International and produced for the Herald and Weekly Times group of newspapers’. (M. Goot and R. Tiffen, ‘Public Opinion and the Politics of the Polls.’, in P. King (ed.), Australia’s Vietnam: Australia in the Second Indo-China War, p. 130). See also Courier-Mail, 14 May 1965. ‘Need for a sense of national purpose’, SMH, 7 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. ‘Last curtsy, last smile’ (photograph), SMH, 7 May 1965, p. 1. Australian, 14 May 1965, ‘No tears for Vietnam troops’, reproduction of photograph and response in ‘Letters to the Editor’, p. 8. For example, ‘Archbishop supports Vietnam force’ (Most Rev. Dr Woods), Age, 3 May 1965, p. 1; ‘Church Council renews call for early peace in Vietnam’, Australian, 1 May 1965; ‘Church leaders split on aid for South Vietnam’, SMH, 11 May 1965, p. 1; ‘Troops decision tragic blunder’ (Methodist Mission, Rev. Alan Walker), Canberra Times, 10 May 1965, p. 4.


135

‘5 Unions defy A.L.P. on troops’, Australian, 21 May 1965; ‘Waterside strikers on Vietnam “open to conspiracy charge” ’, SMH, 26 May 1965; ‘A. C.T.U. opposes Viet. stoppages’, Courier-Mail, 6 May 1965, p. 1. 225 J. Eyre Jr, cartoon, SMH, 6 May 1965, p. 2. 226 Canberra Times, 1 May 1965; Australian, 1 May 1965. 227 ‘Public meeting fails to agree on troops’, Canberra Times, 7 May 1965, p. 1. 228 Herald, 14 May 1965. 229 ibid. There were thirty-eight abstentions in the vote. J. W. Legge spoke against the decision and Don Miller spoke for the Government. 230 G. Evans (president, SRC, The University of Melbourne), ‘Support for United States’, Age, 7 May 1965, ‘Letters to the Editor’. Evans entered Parliament in 1977 as a Labor Senator and became Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade. His views in 1965 bear little resemblance to his later expressed attitudes about the Vietnam War. 231 ibid. 232 ibid. 233 W. Macmahon Ball, J. A. C. Mackie, J. S. Gregory (The University of Melbourne), J. D. Legge, M. Freth, I. D. S. Ward, G. C. Duncan, M. Teichmann, A. Clunies Ross (Monash University), ‘American policy in Vietnam War’, Age, 25 May 1965, ‘Letters to the Editor’. Also printed in the SMH, 25 May 1965. 234 ibid. 235 ‘Students vote reversal of Viet Cong support’, Age, 28 May 1965. 236 ibid. 237 ‘Protest move misfires’, Advertiser, 8 May 1965, p. 1. The heading indicates the Advertiser’s sympathy. 238 ibid. 239 S. Cockburn, ‘Values change for students’, Advertiser, 11 May 1965, p. 2. 240 Advertiser, 11 May 1965, Two critical responses to the article came from the Faculty of History, The University of Adelaide. See W. Phillips, ‘Student’s values. Change in outlook’, Advertiser, 12 May 1965, p. 4, and J. Young, ‘Students vote on Vietnam’, Advertiser, 15 May 1965, p. 4 241 ‘Differing with our friends’, Australian, 5 May 1965, editorial, p. 8. 242 Sexton concentrated heavily on editorials to justify his arguments about the role of the press in the lead-up to the decision announced on 29 April 1965. (Sexton, War for the Asking, pp. 124–35) 243 See Payne, ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War’, vol. 2, Analysis table, West Australian, p. 96. 224

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4

Committing a Task Force, March 1966

On 8 March 1966, the Government announced that it was escalating Australia’s military commitment in Vietnam to a task force.1 The decision was significant because it trebled Australia’s commitment to the war from approximately 1600 to 4500 soldiers. National servicemen would form part of the increased commitment. As a task force the Australian military could function more readily as a separate operational unit thereby extending the control of Australian command over Australian soldiers. By June 1966 this force had been established in Phuoc Tuy province, an area that Australians understood as their area of responsibility in South Vietnam. The importance of the announcement was enhanced because it was made on the first day of the parliamentary sitting for 1966 in a ‘State of the Nation’ address by the new Prime Minister, Harold Holt. This represented the first change in that office in seventeen years. Holt’s decision to include the announcement in his first major address as Prime Minister signified a change from the situation of previously important policy decisions. Holt was either determined to lead a more open government or confident of the response his announcement would produce. Perhaps it was both, for by the end of March Peter Howson, the Minister for Air, was decrying the problems of more open government and surprised by the strength of the opposition to the Government’s announcement.2 Whatever the reason for Holt’s timing of the announcement, press

concentration was assured, not least because of the opportunity to report the debate of the issue during a parliamentary session. A parliament in session allows concentrated political reporting and news agencies look forward to the flow of reports from the national capital that it brings. Press coverage of Vietnam issues during March was extensive and intense. The Government’s acknowledgement that conscripts would be sent to Vietnam added a new dimension to the their need to justify their Vietnam policy. This owed much to the lengthy parliamentary debate on the issues raised by further escalation. In the week preceding the announcement Australian-based reporting made up 15 per cent of total reporting on Vietnam, compared with 43 per cent from America and 40 per cent from Vietnam.3 After the announcement, between 9 and 15 March, Australian coverage increased to 71 per cent of the total. This was not because of a reduction from other sources, but because of an increase from 152 to 1400 in the number of paragraphs of Australian reporting.4 Analysis of the Australian reports and comment indicated that 78 per cent originated from politicians and/or were related to the political environment. There was a clear reliance on reports of American debate and commentary as a stimulus for Australian commentary, particularly in the attempt to examine the basis of the perceived threat China posed to SouthEast Asia and Western democracies. Throughout March the development of clear arguments from those who opposed and supported the sending of national servicemen to Vietnam concentrated attention away from serious questioning of the Government’s need for escalation. The increasing emotionalism of parliamentary debate during March was fuelled by claims that the Kooyong by-election on 2 April would be the testing ground for the Government’s decision to send conscripts to South Vietnam. Calwell’s decision to fight the by-election on this decision increased the attention paid to this aspect of the new policy being announced. As some papers, for example, the Age, SMH and the Canberra Times, devoted lengthy sections to regurgitating parliamentary debate, coverage of Holt’s new Vietnam policy was assured. Politicians dominated the front pages of newspapers, middle pages carried reports of Parliament and Question Time, and editorials and commentary concentrated on the political debate and policy. ‘The beginnings 138


of an effective public debate on the Vietnam issue became evident this week,’ advised the Canberra Times on 19 March, ‘with the Federal Government spokesmen answering opposition rather than ignoring it’.5 The hopes that a parliamentary debate on Vietnam policy would produce reasoned public communication dissipated, however, as debate became emotional and unwieldy. Headlines of newspapers from mid-March portrayed a parliament in turmoil. This intensified politicians’ newsworthiness but at the expense of others within the communication process. The overwhelming press concentration on Parliament resulted in political dominance in the setting of public debate parameters on escalation and the use of national servicemen. Increased political tensions in Indonesia lessened concentration of specialist Asian correspondents’ commentary on Australia’s Vietnam decision. Some editorials saw a need to adopt a balanced and sophisticated questioning of the developing confusion created mostly by two weeks of reiteration of party line debate in Parliament. From the Australian Government’s perspective, reporting on Vietnam-related issues during March was fundamentally negative. American debate indicated a growing lack of support for American escalation and also that future debate would re-examine the basis of US hostility towards China. At the same time, American supporters of American commitment in Vietnam were reportedly demanding that President Johnson sell the policy more effectively by justifying the war as a war against expansionist Communism. Rusk’s concentration on SEATO as the ‘fundamental obligation underlying U.S. involvement’6 at the Senate Foreign Relations Committee inquest into American policy angered supporters of involvement. President Johnson had also been supporting SEATO as a justification for American support in Vietnam. His supporters were reported as annoyed because the ‘sudden resurrection of the SEATO pact to justify the war was fuzzing the whole issue and missing the main point’.7 Australian reporting did not investigate the growing demand in America for an explanation of why America was involved in Vietnam, even though the demand for a more clearly justified basis for Australian involvement was also evident in press demands in Australia in March 1966. Some journalists were aware of this limitation of Australia’s press analysis of the war. Bruce Grant asserted later in 1966 that Australian newspapers had ‘hardly provided a sustained critical Committing a Task Force

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consideration of how long term interests of Australia may be affected by our support for American policy’.8 Examination of Australian press commentary and reporting to 1966 validates Grant’s criticism. China’s intentions remained a topic of central interest in public debate and newspaper reporting and commentary. There were signs that some in America were questioning the validity of presenting China as a country bent on aggressive expansion of Communism throughout South-East Asia. This was evident in the American reports carried in Australian papers and in Australian press commentary. Political stability in South Vietnam was becoming an issue of interest in newspaper coverage. The Prime Minister of South Vietnam, Air Vice Marshal Ky, and his government were under considerable pressure from Washington to establish a democratic basis for government in South Vietnam. Ky was determined to present a more publicly assertive leadership. His moves against corruption produced a mixed reaction in Vietnam and overseas and his attempt to establish control from Saigon over the military leadership of the war led to demonstrations against his regime and against American involvement in South Vietnam. Not only political issues were increasing coverage. The reporting of Operation Silver City in War Zone D, in which Australians and Americans fought together, received prominent coverage during March. Reports praised the bravery and professionalism of Australian troops, many also carrying news of Australian casualties.9 Extensive and far more emotive publicity was given to reports that an Australian officer had ordered the handcuffing of soldier, Gunner Peter O’Neill, to a star picket in a weapon pit in Vietnam. This incident was raised in Parliament, adding to the richer depth of issues that surfaced to give a varied context for debate around the decision to send more troops. Initially, recurrent rhetoric on why Australia was involved in Vietnam and needed to remain supportive of the American effort by increased commitment plagued politicians and press. The Australian remained the exception. ‘Our increased commitment in Vietnam we oppose unequivocally,’ it declared on 10 March.10 While most papers retained support for the Government’s Vietnam policy, there was evidence that some, although spasmodically, were becoming intolerant of the sameness and the inconsistencies of the debate. Defending the value of forward defence undermined the claim by Government that 140


Australians were in Vietnam to protect the democratic right of the allied South Vietnamese to self-determination. The argument ‘better there than here’ and the need for America’s goodwill and continued presence in South-East Asia was evident in newspaper explanation of Australia’s increased involvement in March 1966. This basis for accepting commitment was not new, but the increasingly narrow focus on both of these issues was. It centralised justification on Australian interest, reducing the moral basis of the defence of freedom and treaty obligations. It had always been implicit that national servicemen could be required for overseas service. Harold Cox had forecast the use of national servicemen in Vietnam in August 1965: The first national servicemen could be in Vietnam within a year. This is indicated by the posting arrangements, announced today, for the first intake of 2,100 who were called up in June … These are believed to take the trainees a long step towards overseas service.11 Organised protest groups had been steadily advancing complaints against such an eventuality but the escalation promised in March 1966 increased service in Vietnam as a likely reality for conscripts. The emotive heading of the Canberra Times editorial on 9 March— ‘We are at war’12 —encouraged a greater sense of increased risk and commitment than had been evident to that point. There was obvious news value in reporting the conflict on the conscripts serving in a war zone where tense, emotive exchanges between those for and against would be assured. It was also a new issue in Vietnam coverage. Frontpage news reports highlighted the correlation between the increase in the commitment and the role that would be played by national servicemen. The first two paragraphs of Alan Ramsey’s report in the Australian typified the first news reporting of the decision. Australia will treble its military commitment to South Vietnam. It will have 4,500 troops there by June. For the first time 20-year old national service conscripts will be included in an Australian fighting unit sent overseas.13

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The issue of conscription for overseas service became central to the response and, although intrinsically linked because of an inadequate volunteer army to serve the needs of Australia’s expanding military commitments, it blurred the debate on why escalation was necessary.

Background Calwell had failed in two attempts, on 1 and 10 December 1965, to gain confirmation from Menzies about the possible escalation of Australian forces in Vietnam.14 Prompted by newspaper speculation that an increase was likely, he asked: ‘Is it true, as stated in certain sections of the Press today, that the Government has decided to increase our commitment of troops in Vietnam and that we propose to send conscript troops to Vietnam next year?’15 Menzies denied that this would be the case. Ian McNeill, historian with the official history team, indicated from a study of official sources that the increase was being discussed and sought by the Army in August, but had been rejected by Cabinet. A ‘proposal to begin augmenting the battalion to a task force received an emphatic rejection’.16 Warner had reported in the Herald on 21 February 1966 that following talks in Canberra between the Government and US Vice-President, Hubert Humphrey, more Australian troops would be committed by April. Despite the heading, ‘U.S. not twisting our arm on extra Vietnam aid, But … more troops wanted by April’, the article claimed that any Australian escalation of commitment awaited consultation with Britain. ‘Washington knew that Canberra’s final decision on this had been deferred only because of earlier uncertainties surrounding the visit of the British Defence Minister, Mr. Healey.’17 Having stated this proviso, Warner acknowledged American dominance over Australian decisionmaking: Committed as Australia is to the full support of the Americans in Vietnam, the question of sending more troops was not really in doubt, as long as they were needed and available.18 On the same page as Warner’s commentary, the Herald editorial claimed that an increase in the number of Australian troops sent to Vietnam was ‘practically certain’ and had been foreshadowed in Holt’s 142


joint press conference with the Vice-President the preceding weekend.19 It appears that the pattern of the arrival of high ranking Americans before a change in Australian Vietnam policy helped to condition the public and press to change. The editorial contained comment that represented Warner’s perspective more clearly than his own report. It asserted that of all Australian military involvements the commitment to Vietnam ‘probably arouses the greatest misgivings among Australians. The origins of the conflict are confused … If, as it seems likely, we are to be asked to do more, Australia … will look for increased evidence that the people of South Vietnam will gain real security and freedom from the present ordeal.’20 Centralising assessment of Australia’s decision to escalate forces in South Vietnam to consideration of the needs of the South Vietnamese was not a departure from the Government’s professed objectives. However, all papers had acknowledged clearly that the basis of Australia’s involvement was related to the Government’s conviction that Australian security depended on American goodwill and a US presence in Asia. The Herald’s comment can be read as a timely reminder to readers of the immediate recipients of Australian foreign and forward defence policy. While not opposing the likely increase, it espoused no enthusiasm for an increased commitment and concluded that ‘diplomatic effort and social reconstruction’ were as important as more soldiers.21 There is little evidence of further press investigation of the claim before 8 March when it became official. That the Australian Government was discussing an increase in troops to Vietnam is confirmed in the diary of the Minister for Air, Peter Howson, by the entry for 25 February. He lamented that limited resources would preclude any further commitment ‘however much pressure is put on us’.22 Ian McNeill’s research validates Warner’s report on 21 February that discussions were taking place in ‘midFebruary’and that deliberations for increased Vietnam commitment were being weighed against consideration of any likely British demands on Australia in Singapore and Malaysia. McNeill indicates that that the Defence Committee recommended to Cabinet in February 1966 the escalation of Australia’s military support to a task force, along with the information that the war would be long and there was no expectation of calls for help from Britain.23 The importance of British intentions was cited by Howson on 8 March. ‘We can rely on U.K. at least for the next ten years either in Singapore or on the Committing a Task Force

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Australian mainland.’24 This information again confirms the value of Warner’s sources in pre-empting newspaper discussion on escalation. Newspapers also acknowledged the importance of British intent for Australian defence deliberations. Discussing the decision to escalate forces, the Advertiser wrote that Australia should express ‘an obvious heartfelt appreciation of the British Government’s decision to maintain a military presence in S-E Asia, and particularly in Singapore, as long as possible’.25A day before Holt’s Address to the Nation, the Age warned that defence expenditure must be expected to rise as the result of ‘American and British pressures’ for it to do so.26 On 9 March, the Age queried the Government’s established defence priorities: Government and its advisers have downgraded the threat of conflict arising from confrontation by Indonesia. We now have forces in Malaya, Borneo, Thailand and South Vietnam. The Government has presumably satisfied itself that priority must be given to Vietnam. Australians will hope that this judgement is right. Vietnam is the most distant of these theatres, and our lines of communication are straddled by potentially hostile positions.27 Although this assessment of Australia’s regional insecurity was not new, the Age did question the Government’s public stance that Vietnam was the most appropriate forward defence position, and challenged, therefore, the theory of ‘falling dominoes’ as Australia’s most immediate threat.

Pre-emptive Reports and Commentary Papers were aware that the Government was to announce escalation of Australia’s commitment at the beginning of its autumn session. The Prime Minister had ‘let it be known’ that he would be making a ‘major statement on Vietnam’ when Parliament resumed. 28 The Australian announced in a few paragraphs on page one on 2 March that Cabinet would discuss increasing military and economic aid to Vietnam that day, and other papers also forewarned in minimal paragraphs in news reports what was expected from Holt’s first address. Some pre-emptive comment in editorials is noteworthy, not least because the impetus for much of it appears to have had its origins as 144


much in the reporting of American debate, as in any Australian context. The intent of the Advertiser editorial on 1 March is difficult to gauge.29 It noted the discussion of American options in Vietnam but asserted that one—retreat—had been ignored. Hanson Baldwin, military editor for the New York Times, was described as having a ‘frightening voice’ because he supported the option of ‘deliberate escalation’. The Advertiser asserted that this option was fortunately ‘a barely representative one’. Continuing, the editorial established its concession to the safety of ambiguity: It runs fully in the face of the editorial policy of the New York Times itself; and very few Americans whose voices are listened to would dare publicly support it, even if they secretly agree with either its necessity—if the United States is to extricate itself from this war—or its inevitability.30 In discussing Baldwin’s viewpoint and that of the New York Times, the Advertiser summarised valuable information on the escalation debate in America, particularly in its summary of the New York Times argument against excessive commitment by the US in Vietnam. The Advertiser claimed that the New York Times believed Americanisation of the war would be complete with escalation, South Vietnam becoming an auxiliary. The countryside in South Vietnam would be destroyed in efforts to ‘annihilate’ the Viet Cong. American escalation would deprive the South Vietnam Government of authority and it would mean a ‘vastly increased number of American casualties in an over-Americanisation of what is essentially a Vietnamese political conflict’.31 The Advertiser recognised the difficulty of identifying a workable balance between support and interference with South Vietnam’s fragile political environment. However, the assessment that it was the ‘the only safe and practical rule’ could have been interpreted as a warning against unnecessary escalation, as much as it may have been advancing support for careful escalation, a few days before the Australian Government trebled its commitment. This ambiguity was echoed in American concerns. A poll on Vietnam conducted by Stanford University in March 1966 caused considerable publicity and varying interpretations about what Americans wanted as US policy. Commenting on this poll a New York Times editorial wrote: ‘There is little support in the country … for the extreme Committing a Task Force

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alternatives of withdrawal or all out war … But there is substantial support for a policy of holding military operations at the present level while taking new initiatives to seek peace.’ 32 On 4 March the Canberra Times asserted that Vietnam was the ‘most important and controversial problem facing the nation’.33 Like other papers it demanded some justification from the Government of its Vietnam policy. Holt’s announcement had broadened concern about why Australia was in Vietnam. American hesitancy was noted as a reason to consider Australian escalation carefully: The West is badly divided about whether resistance is worthwhile in Vietnam and there are signs that President Johnson is refusing to increase American military efforts in steps with the needs of the situation.34 The lack of consensus on Vietnam policy in America led the Canberra Times to inform its readers that the situation in Vietnam warranted increased military support. It did not question why resistance was developing in America. The fear of extended Chinese influence in South-East Asia was also evident. Reminding readers that responsibility for Vietnam policy rested also with them, the Canberra Times editorial on 4 March stated that in ‘Vietnam we as a community are sending young men to fight and possibly to die’. Australians would face higher taxes to pay for an unprecedented ‘build-up’ in ‘peace time’. The Canberra Times often drew attention to the fact that, for most Australians, this was a time of peace. This reality took on starker meaning when readers were prodded to think about policy that would take young men out of this peaceful environment into a war zone and possible death in the paddy fields of Vietnam. ‘In Vietnam we decide,’ claimed the Canberra Times, ‘the question of involvement in Asia or non-involvement … We participate in the main arena of two great world struggles, that between the West and the Communist world, between the Chinese dogmatists and the Russian-line revisionists.’35 The complexity of vital issues raised in the Canberra Times could have warranted Government caution and increased public consideration. Not surprisingly, given the deciding framework of the war as representing the monolithic ideological struggle of the West against Communism, the Canberra Times urged the acceptance of increased involvement. 146


On 3 March the Australian discussed the alternative options being debated in America on Vietnam policy. It refused to canvass the merits or otherwise of alternative viewpoints. It did remind readers that public opinion polls in America showed increasing dissatisfaction with Vietnam policy, despite the fact that Congress had supported President Johnson’s request for additional funding for the war. The Daily Telegraph interpreted the situation more positively for those supporting escalation: ‘In spite of some loud criticism, the United States Congress has cleared the way for strengthening the fight in Vietnam’.36 While limited by the nature of editorials, readers were being presented with views about escalation that suggested increased questioning about the role of Allied forces in South Vietnam. The catalyst for this questioning was the increased level of debate in America, particularly in Congress, over the approval of additional funds for the war. While the Canberra Times may have feared the consequences for Australian security if America decided to withdraw from South Vietnam, there was no specific consideration of what the American debate might mean for Australia or Vietnam. Nor was there any discussion of the balance between Australian disquiet or support for proposed American escalation. While isolated reports informed readers about a more questioning American response to government policy, other reports confirmed that President Johnson had won ‘wholehearted’ support from Congress for the funding sought to escalate the war in Vietnam.37 Both Houses of United States Congress, despite an intense debate lasting two weeks, had approved President Johnson’s request for an additional US$4800 million for Vietnam by a majority of 93 to 2. While Senator Fulbright was gaining considerable publicity for his increasing opposition to American policy in Vietnam, his reported claim that ‘his vote for the money authorisation did not mean approval of the Administration policy’ was lost in the headlines recording Johnson’s support.38 The Senate’s decision by an overwhelming majority not to rescind the ‘Gulf of Tonkin’ resolution conveyed to Australian readers a factual redress to reports of developing doubt by some in positions of power in America to Vietnam policy. Papers also reported on 2 March that Prime Minister Ky was asking for more American aid. ‘I want many, many more American Committing a Task Force

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troops to come to support my country,’ Ky was quoted as saying. 39 Two days later Australian papers carried news of increased numbers of American troops to go to Vietnam. The headlines of the same or similar reports make an interesting comparison. The Courier-Mail headlined its report on page four, ‘U.S. Vietnam force of 215,000. More troops ready’.40 The 215,000 was an estimate of force strength in Vietnam, that would result from the increase, although the SMH had this number at 135 000. The heading on the SMH report read ‘U.S. increases combat troops in Vietnam by 30,000 men’41 and the report in the Age had ‘20,000 added to Viet force’.42 Neither the reports of Ky’s request nor American troop number military increases were carried on page one of any Australian paper despite Australia’s impending decision to escalate its own commitment.

Holt and Canberra Press Gallery Communication Holt was determined to appear different from Menzies in his relations with the press. Not only was he described as much more accessible and outgoing than Menzies, ‘but he took the extraordinary step for that time, of actually calling a Heads of Bureaux briefing … It created a contact with the Executive Government … and it was certainly unusual in the experience of anybody who was working here then’.43 A two-paragraph snippet in the Age on 10 March reported that Holt was ‘maintaining expectations that he will hold regular Prime Ministerial press conferences. They are averaging one a week.’44 Howson also noted the change. ‘They realise HEH expects us to take decisions and explain the reasons to the public. RGM acted differently.’45 By the end of March Howson was lamenting Holt’s more open approach. Holt had been hoping that the level of public unrest on Vietnam could be quietened down. Howson decided ‘The PM has “come down into the arena” too much in the House and has let the temperature of debate get too high’.46 The Prime Minister may have attempted to establish a good working relationship with the press, but historian Clem Lloyd suggested that control of information was just as important to Holt as to Menzies. He claimed that Holt held less ‘general press conferences’, and preferred ‘intimate briefing sessions … where he could differentiate clearly between what was attributable and what was background’.47 Lloyd went on to note that the transcripts of these meetings were typed and vetted by Holt’s staff, and additions were 148


made where initial responses from Holt required change or additions. Howson’s diary in January had indicated a concern about communication among the Defence Ministers. Dining with the editor of the Age, Keith Sinclair, Howson suggested the need for ‘a competent defence correspondent—but at the moment the Age can’t afford it. I told him of our thoughts on “airing defence policy” with the press, and I think I established a useful stand in this direction.’48 A day earlier Howson had briefed the political correspondent for the Age, John Bennetts, and concluded that ‘he will be more helpful than he has been in recent months’.49 This desire to establish better relationships with key political journalists is significant because it suggested a realisation that politicians could not afford the complacency Menzies had publicly flaunted.50 As Lloyd observed, ‘Menzies’ successors lacked his skills in media dominance and communication’.51 The scepticism of at least one press gallery journalist to a more informative role from the Government is recorded in the transcript of Holt’s press conference on 9 March. Holt had told journalists during the interview that they should seek answers to some of their questions from the Service Ministers. One reporter asked, ‘Mr. Holt, you said that the Service ministers can give us the details after. Is there going to be some form reversal and they will give them to us?’52

Editorials In the climate of growing public and political protest following Holt’s announcement, editorials became more critical of the Government’s communication and raised considerations about Australia’s Vietnam policies and poorly defined overall defence policies. While all papers acknowledged that the use of national servicemen in Vietnam would increase controversy about Australia’s involvement, sentiment expressed in editorials for the most part reiterated the Government’s justification. The most repeated claim rested on the morality of asking American conscripts to fight in an area of importance to Australian security, without Australian support. Dissent had been responded to with the moral argument that had been most difficult to reject in the very first commitment of advisers. Newspapers supported this moral argument. Opposition to the decision to send conscripts raised debate about the lack of a government mandate, the selectivity of the call-up process, including the exclusion of ‘sons of aliens’, and the morality of committing young men to a war zone while denying them Committing a Task Force

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the responsibility of the right to vote. Challenges to Government justification for involvement and escalation in the war were evident but the lack of consistency in any one paper reduced the effectiveness of alternative considerations. Commentary in most dailies on the Opposition’s contribution to debate, specifically, that of its leader, Calwell, indicated a press unwilling to accept the Opposition as credible. The majority of press commentary was as determined in March 1966, as in May 1965, to undermine the value of the Opposition’s stance against overseas conscription and escalation by denouncing it as politically opportunist. Editorials covered a range of issues related to Australia’s commitment but there was an overall concern for political recognition of the problems of maintaining public support with the inclusion of national servicemen in the new commitment. The Age and the West Australian accepted overseas service for national servicemen but also asserted the likelihood of the necessity of continual increase to meet the demand of Australia’s growing military involvement. The public’s need to understand the connection between defence and foreign policy was made more acute when conscripts were sent to Vietnam. Historian Ken Inglis put this argument succinctly in an article on conscription in the Australian. If the danger to Australia was real then volunteers, as in past wars, should have been encouraged by the Government to come forward in defence of their country. If the danger was not that great and the presence of Australian troops in Vietnam was ‘intended as a symbolic gesture towards our American patron rather than a serious contribution towards a military “Solution”, then is there not a case for sending, as to Korea, no more than a token force of volunteers?’53 Most papers that addressed the question of the politicalmilitary equation of involving Australian troops in Vietnam presented confused commentary. The Canberra Times which, in earlier decisions, had perceived the importance of understanding the balance between Australia’s political and military aims in Vietnam, took a more convenient line of argument to support escalation. Having established that Australia’s force in Vietnam was the ‘most skilled and effective of all those in action against the Communists’, adding moral support to allies by internationalising the effort, the Canberra Times warned before Holt’s announcement that Australia’s military contribution was rapidly becoming a ‘token force’.54 150


For the Age Australia’s new contribution was no longer a token one. This was significant because it suggested some balance between political and military aims in Australia’s commitment. It should be noted that at the same time the Age was asserting the dominance of diplomacy in the development of a defence and foreign affairs policy: This task force of 4,500 men will give the Australian contribution a much greater military significance. It cannot now be dismissed as a mere political gesture to our allies.55 The Age did not resolve the dilemma of political aspirations that controlled military considerations in establishing an adequate defence policy. Expressing concern about the pressure from America for more support in Vietnam, it stated that the Government’s ‘political problem’ had been to ‘find a means of strengthening the Australian effort in Vietnam without stretching her resources beyond prudent limits’.56 Two days later the Age was asserting a similar theme but in the interests of a consistent foreign policy. There had been much left unexplained about British discussions on ‘inter-dependence’ and much left unsaid about Malaysia and Singapore, claimed the Age. It believed that the Government had made two important decisions. One was to be more deeply committed in Vietnam and the other to downgrade the significance of a threat from Indonesia’s confrontation with Malaysia. The Age was scathing in its assessment of Holt’s ability to substantiate policy direction: These two decisions are closely linked, because the exercise of our diplomatic strength depends largely upon the deployment of our military strength. Mr. Hasluck has faithfully done his duty by justifying the Government’s decision to increase our armed forces in Vietnam. If he felt this necessary he seems to have been more worried than Mr. Holt. What the public sought was a clear outline of our foreign policy, and this he has failed to provide. Our principles may be as inflexible as he insists, but we all know that our practices are continually changing. We would like to know why.57


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The Australian was again blunt in its assessment of the consequences of Australia’s increased military support. ‘More Australian troops will make no difference to the Allied war effort.’58 The Australian asserted that the history of Australian policy had been turnabouts to accommodate US policy: So unoriginal are our attitudes to the Vietnam question and so quick are we to follow the example of the U.S., when the Americans reconsider their policies, ipso facto they consider ours … All the way through the history of the Vietnam dispute, the Australian Government has been remarkable for the abruptness with which it has had to change its mind through misinterpretation either of situations or of attitudes of our great and powerful ally.59 The Courier-Mail reiterated, if not as clearly as the Australian, similar sentiment about the importance of America in Australia’s decision. ‘What the Commonwealth Government is doing is to match Australia’s policy with that of our most powerful ally.’60 Its response to the Government’s stated fear of China was in sharp contrast to the Australian’s damning assessment. The Courier-Mail began its editorial by quoting Holt’s explanation for Australia’s role in Vietnam. ‘We are there because while Communist aggression persists the whole of South East Asia is threatened. While the Chinese Communist philosophy of world domination persists, the whole free world is threatened.’61 Containing China was an important tenet of the Government’s justification for fighting in South Vietnam and the relationship between China and the Vietnam conflict was a recurring theme in editorial response. All newspapers recognised the importance of China and the danger it posed to world peace. It was in the varying ways each addressed that danger that newspapers differed. Despite the initial support for Holt’s decision, with the exception of the Australian, there were signs of irritation with the repetitiveness of the political justification for Australia’s participation. The Herald reported under the heading, ‘Thank you Australia’, that President Johnson ‘had sent an extraordinarily warm message to Australia praising the Government’s ‘great contribution’ … In Saigon, morning newspapers virtually ignored the Australian decision. Only two of the capital’s fourteen mentioned it.’62 152


The difficulty of establishing editorial opinion is clear in the following example of the SMH’s determination to criticise the lack of Australian input into policy decisions related to Vietnam. The SMH often used parentheses when making politically sensitive comment. Seeing the decision to escalate as an indication that Australia had decided ‘to support the United States to the hilt’ in Vietnam, the SMH added in parentheses, ‘the fiction that we are responding to a South Vietnamese request is tiresome and dishonest’.63 A request had been required to justify intervention under SEATO. By denying its validity at a time when American leaders were attempting to establish SEATO as their basis for intervention, the SMH’s aside challenged more than the honesty of the Australian Government. While out of character with the paper’s more consistent support of the American alliance, it was an example of the frustration that surfaced spasmodically in the SMH for evidence of some independent input into Australia’s involvement in Vietnam. In a later editorial in March the SMH complained at the lack of sophistication in the parliamentary debate on Vietnam issues and lamented the reluctance of Government ministers to discuss Australian aims in Vietnam and the ‘terms we might agree to a settlement’. In parentheses it added, ‘Perhaps this is because they know Australia will have little say in the matter’.64 Throughout March the SMH continued to highlight the need for the Australian Government to justify the Australian aspects of why escalation was important. Not only is this a particularly grim and beastly war; it is also a war without certainties, a war about which there are deep and honest differences of opinion and a war which no more commands in Australia than in America a wholehearted national support. In addition, many people have the feeling that this is not Australia’s war and that Australia has been consulted neither in its initiation nor its conduct.65 The SMH demanded an Australian perspective from the Government on Vietnam policy and criticised the seeming dominance of America in its public presentation of the need for involvement. The paper’s base concern was that the Government would lose the support of the Australian public. Despite the sentiments for independence so determinedly expressed, the paper defended Holt’s decision because it was Committing a Task Force

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‘of paramount importance to Australia’s security that the closest possible links be forged with America’.66 The newspaper editorials showed an immediate understanding of the divisive nature of the decision. By late March, parliamentary debate and claims that the by-election in the ‘blue ribbon seat’ of Kooyong would be fought on the conscription issue were producing critical comment on the failure of the Government to have adequately argued its case for escalation. This criticism was not aimed at undermining support for involvement. It was a warning to the Government that opposition to involvement had a developing legitimacy. American debate was proving this. Papers criticised the emotionalism of the parliamentary debate while praising the fact that there could be one. While some editorials acknowledged the right of a dissenting voice on Government policy their denigration of the most publicly reported opposition to it, the Opposition, indicated in most an unwillingness to seriously consider alternatives to escalation and use of conscripts in Vietnam.

Reporting the Opposition Under Calwell’s leadership, the Labor Party pursued a campaign of opposition to Government policy in Vietnam, specifically, at this time, to the sending of conscripts to Vietnam. Weakening the strength of Labor’s opposition was the dominant press reporting in early March of Whitlam’s possible dismissal by the party for disloyalty. While that threat had been removed quickly, the headlines indicating rivalry between Whitlam and Calwell supporters continued as frontpage reports throughout the month.67 This was because of the decision on 3 March to refer Whitlam’s dispute with the executive over State aid and the relationship between the ALP machine and the parliamentary party, to a special Federal Conference of the ALP on 25 March The result was a public image of a party in disarray. Holt did not waste this political opportunity. The Advertiser published his attack on Calwell in its front-page report of the parliamentary Vietnam debate. Holt accused Calwell of being ‘unsure of his leadership, unsure of his deputy leadership, and unsure of his own policy’.68 Although the views of individual Labor politicians were publicised through reports on parliamentary debate, it was Calwell who bore the brunt of editorial criticism of the Opposition’s stance. 154


No politician was savaged as universally by the press as Calwell. Hasluck could be described as boring, Fairhall as insensitive, Holt predictable, but Calwell by the end of March had, with some isolated concessions, received total rejection. His emotionalism did little to enhance a sense of reasoned debate against Australian policy; in fact it was made more noticeable by the nature of Parliamentary Question Times and debate. The SMH felt the need to caution Government members against ‘the temptation to accuse all those who oppose the war of Communism or treachery’.69 The front page of the Age that reported Holt’s decision to escalate troop numbers also reported Liberal member, Kent Hughes’, retort of ‘Peking puppets’ to the Opposition’s protests at Holt’s announcement.70 This was the climate in which the Opposition sought credibility. Editorial response to Calwell’s reply to the Government was universally negative. Calwell’s most repetitive claim was that the war was ‘unwinnable’. This was rejected by the paper from which Labor may have expected some support, the Australian: Few would agree that the war was ‘unwinnable’ in the military sense. More relevant is the consequence of a military victory. South Vietnam would then be left in such a mess that its future as a self-reliant democracy would be impossible. If Mr. Calwell meant this he should have said so.71 The Canberra Times damned with faint praise: There are times when patriotism and honesty of purpose by themselves are not enough. They were not enough when the Leader of the Opposition set out last night to destroy the Government’s policy on Vietnam. A reasoned and logical case was also necessary, and that was tragically missing … Mr. Calwell is guilty of the very sins of which he accuses his opponents: sweeping statement and over-simplification. We deserve better than this.72 It conceded two points to Calwell. He was right to question the conscription of young men to Vietnam when the rest of the community had ‘little or no sense of involvement in what is going on’, a line that the Advertiser had already pushed as important. The Government’s Committing a Task Force

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willingness to denounce China while continuing to trade with it was hypocritical, lectured the editorial in its limited agreement with Calwell’s attack. The SMH claimed that ‘No one in a position of responsibility has taken a more irresponsible and ambiguous stance on the conscription issue than Mr. Calwell’.73 The paper accused Calwell of policies that would destroy the ‘effectiveness and morale’ of the Australian Army and ‘alienate our allies’. Calwell and ‘his motley flock’ would put electoral advantage above national security and would sacrifice national safety.74 The West Australian mirrored comment from the SMH. Electoral liability for Labor lay with public acceptance that it would detrimentally affect Australia’s relationship with America. Newspapers were determined in their efforts to establish distrust of Labor: Labor is waging a curious and unashamedly emotional campaign for political ends without regard for Australia’s interests. It is offering no policy of its own except its opposition to conscription, especially for service in Vietnam. Having chosen to force the security issue, Mr. Calwell’s duty is to tell the people frankly what he would do if he was Prime Minister. He should recognise that Australia has no assurance of long-term security without American backing. Is he prepared to support the United States generally in the context of the existing alliance? Would he pull out of Vietnam or would he stay there to fight the Communist pressure and, if he stayed, what forces would he use?75 The charge of insincerity was endorsed by the Advertiser, it too framing Labor as opportunistic. Labor’s anti-conscription stance was a ploy, a diversion to attract ‘public attention away from its internal warfare. So far conscription has offered the best prospect … It is understandable that a party so out of touch with realities should seek to exploit the emotional issue of conscription for its own selfish ends.’76 The previous day the Advertiser had complained that there were ‘disquieting’ signs that efforts were being made to ‘prevent the voice of reason’ from being heard. The inseparability of Labor and Communist was denied by the Advertiser but nevertheless the 156


editorial indirectly established a link between the anti-conscription debate and Communists: Labor members would doubtless be reluctant to encourage disturbances of this kind. The Communists, of course, have no qualms about promoting such demonstrations for their own ends. Failing with ‘peace’ conferences, their journals have fastened on ‘conscription’ as a pretext for hindering the Australian effort. Moves to make the present agitation yet another Red ‘front’ need to be closely watched.77 The scaremongering exemplified the impossible lack of consistency in editorial standards in the Advertiser. This inconsistency was also evident in the Age. In 1962 it had rejected the Government’s claim that Australia was sending advisers because of obligations stemming from the SEATO alliance. In 1966, when convenience required support for the Government’s argument, the Age obliged. It criticised Calwell for accepting the need for the SEATO and ANZUS treaties but refusing to honour the responsibilities that came with those partnerships.78 Illustrating the value the Age placed on this argument, it repeated it the following week. ‘The Australian Government did face a dilemma, as Mr. Calwell accurately described it. As Australia’s ally and member of SEATO, Australia was asked—and obliged—to come to the aid of SEATO.’79 The Age was merciless and repetitive in its attack on Calwell’s response to escalation and the use of conscripts. On two accounts, according to Age editorials, Calwell had proved that his views were antiquated and exemplified a failure by Labor to address Australia’s immediate concerns without resort to past and irrelevant history. According to the Age, Calwell had ‘betrayed his party’s addiction to attitudes of a bygone age when he spoke … of the use of conscripts “to curry favour with international capitalism” ’.80 The paper attacked the irrelevance of World War I slogans and the justification offered against conscription as a policy that the Labor Party had always embraced.81 It also accused Labor of political opportunism in concentrating on the emotive issue of conscription. It dismissed the Opposition’s views as emotional, and failing to ‘advance a practical or moral alternative to the Government’s policy’.82 Committing a Task Force

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The Daily Telegraph assessed the relative political aptitude of Calwell and Holt. On 8 March its editorial stated that no one took Calwell seriously as a ‘military expert’. His comments, like those of his deputy, Gough Whitlam, showed how unfit ‘the Labor Party would be to conduct Australia’s defence policy if it ever got the power’.83 While acknowledging that the increase announced in Australia’s Vietnam force was ‘greater than many expected’, the Daily Telegraph condoned the decision, concluding that ‘Mr. Holt’s report to the people’ was a ‘clear, honest statement by a man who knows first what he is doing, and why’.84 Canberra Press Gallery veteran reporter, Alan Reid, presented Calwell as a puppet rather than a mover of ALP policy.85 Under the heading, ‘A.L.P. instructs Calwell “Accuse U.S. over N. Viet” ’, Reid claimed that Calwell was instructed to accuse America of insincerity in its peace negotiations and to oppose American bombing in North Vietnam. ‘These decisions were so anti-United States in their tone it was decided not to release them,’ stated Reid.86 The Australian attacked Calwell for ‘perplexing and unpleasant’ remarks in the Kooyong by-election.87 His emotionalism over conscription was obscuring the more vital issue, ‘our involvement in Vietnam’. The Australian concluded: For those who seriously question our commitment in Vietnam, the parliamentary Labor Party should be an effective avenue to force the Government to take a saner view of the origins and complications of the war. But if the A.L.P. follows its leader, the Vietnam debate will degenerate into a raucous, emotional, slanging match. This will get us nowhere.88 Nowhere in the press was there an assessment or any reflection on the role they were playing by the narrow framing in their respective communications on why Australia was and should remain in Vietnam. The press loves conflict so there was a somewhat sanctimonious tone in the SMH’s demand for Calwell to understand ‘more was required of him in this national crisis of conscience and purpose than conduct after the style of a parliamentary brawl’.89 The image of Calwell produced in Australian newspapers during March was one of an emotional opportunist. The Labor Party disunity between its leader and would-be leader helped to provide an 158


atmosphere conducive to acceptance of the claim, even though they were not linked in commentary. Equally obvious in some newspapers were the usual damaging undertones of the link between Labor and Communists that attempted to establish that opposition to the Government’s policy of escalation was disloyal. Press acceptance that the responsibility for presenting a reasoned opposition to the Government rested almost solely with Calwell suggests the political bias that existed in the reporting of Australia’s decision. Through concentration on prolonged parliamentary debate, responses from others within the public communication process were minimised. Newspaper commentary during March 1966 expressed the danger of losing support for the war at home because the Australian public was not receiving adequate explanations for involvement from politicians. When the decision to send conscripts was announced, newspapers immediately recognised the potential of this issue to increase the intensity of public debate. In their urgency to alert politicians to growing uneasiness within the community, the papers appeared more concerned than the Government that policy be explained. Their attacks on Calwell did not limit their demands for a more professional and determined contribution from Holt as a public informant. The increasing criticism of Holt’s failure to explain the reasons for the Government’s Vietnam policy revealed a less than supportive press for the Government’s performance in establishing credibility for escalation and the use of national servicemen. It was the SMH that challenged the Government most consistently during March for evidence of an Australian-based defence and foreign policy. The value of Labor’s excess according to the SMH was to goad Holt into understanding that he had to sell his Vietnam policy. Expressing sympathy for Holt’s inheritance of Menzies’ inertia, the paper accused Holt of a belief that he could behave like Menzies and all would be well.90 Holt’s sensitivity to newspaper commentary in the period immediately after his announcement that Australia would increase its commitment was shown in his reported plea to the public to leave Vietnam policy to elected representatives and not ‘form an opinion from editorials of newspapers’. This statement exemplified a certain accuracy in the SMH’s claim that Holt was Menzies’ protégé, but lacked his persuasive powers. Editorials were to become less kind to Holt during the latter part of the month and Holt’s blanket Committing a Task Force

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criticism of editorials on 11 March suggests that the mutterings in some, despite introductory or concluding arguments in most supporting Holt, had not gone unnoticed. The SMH’s determination to denigrate the Government on 11 March no doubt intensified Holt’s annoyance with some newspapers. Its message was clear. In attacking Hasluck for his lack of appropriate detailing of the basis of Australia’s Asian foreign policy, the SMH conceded that it was acceptable to support the US. However, it was unreasonable ‘to expect the Australian Parliament and people to accept a regurgitation of American argument with hardly a suggestion that the Australian government has devoted any independent thought to the problems involved’.91 The editorial decried the definition by Holt and Hasluck of Australia’s defence and foreign policy as ‘Vietnam’, and their failure to acknowledge the importance of Indonesia and Malaysia, areas of ‘very real and direct importance’, where at least an Australian perspective could have been advanced. While acknowledging the importance of Vietnam the paper asserted that it was not ‘an area in which Australian influence can count for much, more especially as Australian Vietnamese policy evidently has no independent contribution to make’.92 The front-page news reports, by regurgitating parliamentary debate, with an emphasis on the Prime Minister’s input, muted editorial criticisms if readers read them all. The headline of the SMH on 25 March read, ‘Holt’s Vietnam plea, Renewed call for understanding of Government policy’. The Age headline read, ‘P.M.’s appeal, “Support our Vietnam commitment” ’, and the headline in the Australian reported, ‘Holt defends call-up policy, Public will give backing’. These reports highlighted Holt’s defensive stance that when the public was ‘fully informed of the issues it would back the Government, the sole purpose of which was the security of the country’. The Government was privy to expert advice from Allies claimed Holt and its decisions were not based on directives from ‘outside this House’. Reiterating the most damaging attacks against Labor, newspaper reports carried Holt’s statement that the ‘Opposition was the one party in Australia which challenged the judgement of the country’s “great and powerful ally”, the U.S’.93 In these lead reports the Opposition response, if reported at all, was noted by the printing of the small interjection comments throughout Holt’s speech. When Calwell made his detailed reply on 160


15 March, his speech received front-page coverage. Far more consistently, it was Holt’s argument that grabbed front-page headlines, even though detailed verbatim reports that included Opposition arguments were printed in later pages. As such, Labor’s voice was not easily summarised or as readily accessible as reports on news pages. Holt’s continuation of the claim that the threat to South Vietnam was a direct threat to Australia received the reply from Labor’s Gordon Bryant, ‘Don’t be stupid’, and his statement that Australia was far more dangerously situated than the US was responded to by Labor’s Clyde Cameron, with the question ‘Are we at war?’.94 Newspapers supported the main contentions of Government policy in Vietnam but they appeared equally sure that the Government’s arguments were failing to convince large numbers of Australians. They warned politicians to rectify the communication breakdown. In doing so, the papers denied any responsibility themselves as initiators of published alternative viewpoints or supportive arguments to justify the aims of Government policy that, for the most part, they supported. Often when they challenged the Government they failed to indicate the similarity between their own criticism and Labor’s.

Resolution at Home The Government had, for the first time, committed conscripts to a war that was ‘endless’, ‘undeclared’, ‘so far from our shores’, explained the Age.95 For this reason politicians had to justify why involvement was ‘in the interests of Australia’s national security’. By 30 March the Age challenged unhesitatingly a cornerstone of the Australian Government’s justification for commitment to Vietnam: It is over-simplifying the case to say that Red China is bent on the conquest of all South East Asia and that after Vietnam will come Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore and Australia. The ‘domino’ theory should not be accepted without question.96 The doubts about national security were vital. If the Australian public could not perceive an immediate threat, or the long-term threat of Communist takeover, an important basis of Government justification would be removed. The editorial’s conclusion answered and warned: Committing a Task Force

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We cannot deter aggression by waving pacifist banners. We will not safeguard the future by keeping our troops at home while others man the front line for us. These are the facts that we have to keep clearly before us so that the war nobody wants and everybody hates is not lost by lack of resolution at home.97 The views expressed in the editorial could have led to a more questioning approach of Government policy but the intent was to strengthen the Government’s position, not deny it. This gave the editorial a coherent, if somewhat equivocal, logic. The Canberra Times was explicit. Before Holt’s announcement the Canberra Times had been insistent that there was a need for Government assurance that this course of action was warranted. It registered an important perceived change in the environment that could win or lose the war. ‘The war is shifting from the paddies of Vietnam to the home countries of Saigon’s allies.’ Supportive of Australia’s involvement, the Canberra Times begged politicians to state the case for that involvement. Most Australians are aware of the need for our part in this war. But that does not relieve Mr. Holt of the responsibility of stating the case. He should restate it and restate it again, it is a good one.98 Warning Holt again on the opening day of Parliament the Canberra Times wrote that he must ‘continue the momentum of the defence build-up’ and ensure that he had political backing for committing men and materials to the nation’s defence. In an age of irregular indirect warfare, defence depends as much on domestic political support as on the technical problems of training men in fighting and giving them the equipment with which to fight.99 Its editorial on 9 March applauded Holt for his ‘case well made out’ and quoted parts of his speech to prove it.100 Douglas Wilkie, writing for the Advertiser, was less impressed. He reminded readers that Holt would face an election soon where he 162


would need to inform the electorate about how Australia would achieve Government defence aims: His confession will have to be sooner or later, that if Australia wants to play a conspicuous role in the front line in Vietnam at the same time as it sets about acquiring a credible defence capability of its own, it must be prepared for greater sacrifices on the home front as well as in the Vietnam jungle.101 The SMH attacked the Government for failing to communicate the necessity of involvement to the Australian people. Valuable insight was reflected in the comment that there had been ‘little sign of recognition in Canberra that the dispatch of conscripts’ was ‘a momentous and an emotional matter’ and Holt’s claim that it would be ‘warmly supported’ was misplaced; ‘it will command warm support from few, if any, Australians. At best it will be accepted as a bitter necessity of our times. The Government and its Fairhalls would be well advised to recognise this,’ concluded the editorial.102 The basis of its criticism was expressed jingoistically. The Government had not established a sense of ‘urgency and peril or a realisation that Australia’s security is bound up with the struggle for South East Asia. It has sounded no call to arms, sought no general sacrifices.’103 Commentary in some papers reminded readers that the election was the time for the public to exercise its democratic rights to communicate dissatisfaction with policy it disapproved of. The SMH believed that Australians were learning that it was not always possible to get consensus about a nation’s involvement in war but hit at the core problem for Holt, that ‘it is easier for a democracy to change its Government than for a Government to change its policy’.104 The media is one of the most ardent critics of governments who try to effect reversal of policy. Under a sub-heading ‘Duty to decide’, the editorial in the Courier-Mail espoused a similar line of argument. ‘It is the elected Government’s duty to make decisions and carry out policies which best serve the interests of the country. That is what the Holt Government is doing in Vietnam.’ Opposition could be registered at election time and until that time it was important to support the fighting men in Vietnam. Linking opposition to disloyalty while assuring readers that their opinions should wait until election time Committing a Task Force

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was a dangerous demarcation of freedom of speech, especially when those same papers scoffed at demands for a referendum because it would divide the nation. The issue of conscription, central to the ability of the Government to escalate forces, could not afford the gamble of public endorsement. The first query raised at a press gallery interview given by Holt on 9 March was his reaction to Calwell’s request for a referendum. Holt responded that Australia had not found referendums a ‘satisfactory way of resolving issues of this character’. He was then asked if, in his opinion, ‘the test of public opinion [would] be at the next election’.105 Holt welcomed the question and agreed that the Government would answer for its actions at the next election. From reporting and commentary it appears that the press agreed and in fact had communicated that message for him to the Australian people. The convenience and ordered basis of this traditional political definition of democratic practice, adhered to by Menzies, had been well learned by successor and journalists. Key Canberra Press Gallery journalist, John Bennetts, claimed federal ministers were ‘probably aware’ that the decision to send national servicemen to Vietnam would ‘increase public uneasiness about Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam war’ and the official response was that it had ‘caused no surprise’.106 The official rhetoric was not matched by the unofficial mumblings from ministers and backbenchers. Bennetts indicated that an educational campaign to gain public support was planned by the Government.107 The two propositions that the Liberal Government wanted accepted, claimed Bennetts, were that it was in Australia’s own interest to be militarily involved in Vietnam to fight against Communist aggression and that commitment required national servicemen. The Government had begun a campaign to increase the use of the term ‘national’ servicemen as opposed to the emotive, although technically legal term ‘conscripts’. The idea that public acceptance of sending national servicemen to Vietnam could be influenced by use of the word ‘national’ was significant. The need for an American alliance was already accepted by the Australian public but in the developing questioning of the notion of an expansionist China any reduction in the public’s sense of the threat from advancing Communism would seriously undermine the Government’s position. Labor politicians insisted that Australia’s vital security interests were not involved in Vietnam and therefore the term ‘conscript’ was 164


appropriate. Bennetts indicated that the Government would attach some significance to public perceptions of Government policy in Vietnam as reflected in voting in the Kooyong by-election. Public opposition would not change policy, just intensify the Government’s education campaign.108 The impotency of public input into the debate was evident in the press reminders across various newspapers that only the vote would change policy, and then only if it changed government. Bennetts’ assessment indicated the Government’s contempt for public opinion or an arrogant belief, as already indicated by Holt in his plea for public understanding, that the Government, because of access to ‘expert’ advice, could not be wrong. What had changed since 1962 was the development of a more interested and informed public. The importance of the media in addressing this need was shown by Bennetts’ statement that the Government had not yet seen a need ‘for a “hard sell” campaign with Ministers making frequent radio and television broadcasts’.109 Reading through Peter Howson’s diary for March 1966, it is obvious that the Liberals were surprised by the strength of opposition and by the end of March were looking for diversion in domestic issues, not explanation.

China Throughout March China remained a focal point in reported debate as the result of American concentration on evaluating the basis of its own relationship with China. The importing of American parameters of debate was evident in discussion of China at this time. Newspapers relied heavily on American reports and commentary to inform readers about the developing uncertainty of Allied attitudes towards China. Reporting indicated that there was a growing sympathy in America for recognition of China in the United Nations, which would legitimise China in world opinion as a major power. A counterframing of China as a threat argued that that any escalation of American bombing in North Vietnam that included Haiphong Harbour, through which North Vietnam’s vital aid from Russia flowed as well as trade, might produce a larger war between the West and Communist nations.110 The Senate Foreign Relations Committee (chaired by Fulbright) was central to the debate that challenged Johnson’s escalation policy and to a developing debate on America’s relationship with China. Fulbright claimed that many Chinese and Committing a Task Force

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American officials were accepting that China and America would be at war in the near future.111 He reportedly sought to investigate the relationship between the two countries in an effort to reduce ‘that fatal expectancy’ of war. Reports also asserted that he believed there should be a mutual withdrawal by China and America from SouthEast Asia.112 The difficulty for Australian readers was to balance the possibility of war between China and America with the attempts to lessen Chinese responsibility for the existence of mutual hostility. Australian politicians and press reiterated American debate, adding to the confusion of public understanding of China’s relationship to Australia’s Vietnam involvement. This confusion was increased because the majority of newspapers supported the Government’s determination to support China as ‘expansionist’ and a threat to Australian security. The Australian press reported Fulbright’s attempt to achieve a balance in the public perception of China. China had been humiliated by the West and this had produced an attitude from China of ‘fear, bitterness and militancy’, claimed Fulbright.113 The Senator’s reported statement that it ‘was inevitable that China would become the major influence in South-East Asia’ would have done little to lessen the fear of China he hoped to address. Nor would the reporting of his following comment have comforted those seeking a less emotionally based rationale for Chinese intent in South-East Asia: The danger of war is real. It is real because China is ruled by ideological dogmatists who will soon have nuclear weapons at their disposal and who, though far more ferocious in words than in actions, none the less are intensely hostile to the United States.114 There was a genuine fear expressed at this time in Australia that the Vietnam War could escalate into a world war. A page one report in the Age indicating the views of Hasluck read, ‘Threat of global war seen in Asian events’.115 On 7 March, Calwell’s address to the Victorian Young Labor Association was reported as stating that the ‘war in Vietnam will be settled in less than another four or five years. It has to be or it will escalate into another world war.’116 Walter Lippmann, whose views were most consistently published in the Age, challenged official American attitudes. He claimed 166


that Rusk (Secretary of State) and McNamara (Defence Secretary) were playing out a game of power politics between America and Communist countries that was complex and vital. They actually believe that they are containing China, and they persist in their belief, despite the fact that they have alienated the Soviet Union, spread doubt and division in Japan, have no support in Pakistan and India. In the realm of great Power politics, in Asia the United States is playing a lone hand.117 Lippmann’s greatest concern was for those who believed that the basis of American involvement in Vietnam was to contain China. In his view, they mistakenly believed that by fighting against the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese they were containing China when in fact they were not ‘dealing with the Chinese’. This significant point was neither discussed or raised with any frequency in the press, though whether this was due to a lack of understanding that this perspective undermined the legitimacy of one of the main, publicly expressed, Government justifications for involvement, is difficult to gauge. ‘For anyone who thinks that great Power politics have not been abolished, the notion that China can be contained in South Vietnam south of the 17th parallel is sheer mythology. It is pernicious mythology,’ wrote Lippmann.118 The Age published Lippmann’s reiteration of this theme on 12 March, along with a report from Roy Macartney entitled ‘Softer line on China’.119 Macartney was the Age correspondent reporting from Washington during the war years. His March commentary also concentrated on China, reflecting the insistency of debate developing in America. His columns summarised the main questions being asked in America and carried the views of some of those participating in public debate, although they did not put forward any personal opinion on the information conveyed.120 The foreign editor of the Advertiser asserted that Holt believed, like Menzies, that the war in Vietnam had ‘grown out of Communist China’s expansionism which threatens every country of South-East Asia’.121 The editor questioned Australia’s willingness to accept the interpretation of some leading Americans, such as Defence Secretary Robert McNamara, that China was expansionist and aggressive: Committing a Task Force

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Our attitude to China, of course, follows the United State’s attitude closely, perhaps too closely. It tends to inhibit our thinking and contract whatever influence we are able to exert in Asia. If only because, unlike the US, we have no history in Asia to forget or to mourn, especially in relation to China, we should be able to take a clearer view of what the next 20 years are likely to produce.122 The assessment echoed Warner’s warning of earlier years. The Government’s statements on China were, according to the Australian, full of contradictions. ‘We must not be blamed therefore, if we view Mr. Hasluck’s obsessional fear of China with a great deal of suspicion and scepticism,’ stated the Australian. Holt was not telling ‘the whole truth if he says that this struggle is simply between “cleanskin” democracy and brutal communist aggression’.123 The paper reiterated the views from American debate that it was difficult to see why China would not feel threatened given the attempt by Western countries to ‘cordon it off by a vast ring of military bases’. China’s aggression stemmed from the isolation being forced upon it. In a succinct summary, tinged with Cold War rhetoric, the paper asked: How does Australia expect to reach any accord if it insists on treating China as a pariah? How can we insist on China’s conforming to a certain mode of behaviour before it earns our diplomatic recognition when we do not insist on this behaviour by other countries? How can Mr. Hasluck fail to see the discrepancy of his Government behaving in such a high moral manner towards a country with which we conduct a large trade?124 In future editorials in March the Australian indicated its own obsession with the debate on China and adopted the motivation of fear of Communist retaliation to justify why Australia and America should get out of Vietnam. This line of argument, to a certain extent like the reports on Fulbright’s position, accentuated the power and potential for China and Russia to engage in a war against the West if pushed by American escalation. This was despite the recognition that Russia and China were at that time engaged in hostile public rhetoric. Inadvertently, such arguments did little to reduce the fear of China.125 168


The Vietnamese Context Also evident in March 1966, was the increasing public questioning of the Saigon Government that was being supported by the Allies. Again, questioning was depicted in reports of American debate more than in Australian commentary and reports, with the exception of the reports from Asian correspondents. This questioning owed more to the coincidental timing of events in South Vietnam than to investigative reporting associated with Australia’s intention to escalate support for South Vietnam. The oppositional forces to the war in American debate were becoming public and acceptable.The dismissal of Lieutenant General Nguyen Chanh Thi as first corps commander of the South Vietnamese Army and the resultant Buddhist-led demonstration against Air Vice Marshal Ky’s government concentrated reports on the viability of the Saigon Government. The Australian Government’s announcement also coincided with a number of major military operations in Vietnam. The photograph of a Chinese millionaire, sentenced to death for corruption, holding his young daughter and surrounded by his weeping family, evoked sympathy for the defendant rather than any interpretation of strength being exerted by Saigon’s military regime.126 Beverly Deepe reported from Saigon in a syndicated report published in the Australian that the execution of Ta Vinh, a Chinese businessman, for war profiteering had been considered by the Chinese as anti-Chinese rather than anti-corruption. Two other Chinese businessmen had been sentenced to six years’ imprisonment. The sentencing of a Vietnamese public servant to death for corruption had lessened the validity of the anti-Chinese charge against Ky’s government but the execution was still to take place to establish objective credibility. Deepe claimed that if the execution went ahead, Ky would regain credit in the countryside: The Vietnamese are tired of the overwhelming waves of corruption, and it will give him an appearance of governing in opposition to American Embassy advice, which could strengthen his nationalistic prestige.127 The fact that Ky’s prestige in Vietnam may have been strengthened conveyed an important message to Australian readers about American-Vietnamese relationships and control in South Vietnam at Committing a Task Force

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this time. In another American syndicated report the Australian continued to inform readers about the fragile relationship between Ky and the American President. Johnson had publicly endorsed Ky’s leadership at a conference in Honolulu in February, leaving little flexibility for change. According to correspondent Douglas Kiker in Washington, the American administration was ‘acutely aware of its dilemma’.128 American historian, William Hammond, stated that Ky had been asked by the US Ambassador in Saigon, Cabot Lodge, not to remove Lieutenant General Nguyen Chanh Thi at this time, despite his insubordination in ignoring orders from Saigon.129 Thi was ‘a powerful and charismatic leader who had ruled South Vietnam’s northern provinces’ and whose support suggested that he was capable of a ‘coup’ in Saigon.130 After Ky had dismissed Thi, a hesitant Lodge attempted to have Ky’s action reported as ‘routine change of command’, and when American journalists rejected this explanation, reinterpreted the action as an act of courage by Ky. The use of the incident by forces opposing the Government in Saigon, particularly the Buddhists, raised a difficult public dilemma for the American Government. Hammond claimed that Lodge was told to maintain a ‘neutral stance’ so that Ky’s authority was not diminished and demonstrators were not given grounds to believe that Americans were working against them. The lack of any prioritising of the diffulties faced by Ky in American considerations at this time are illustrated in directive given to dipomats in Saigon. Officials were warned not to describe all demonstrators as ‘Communist’. ‘Statements of that sort would merely deepen the protesters’ anti-American bias and leave the United States vulnerable if the Ky government indeed fell.’131 Ky was asked to address the disturbances because the unfavourable publicity in America during a month that claimed 228 American lives and 850 wounded would produce an intolerable situation for public acceptance of the war in America.132 The lack of depth in Australian press understanding of Vietnamese politics was illustrated in the immediate reporting of the sacking of Lieutenant General Nguyen Chanh Thi. News of the sacking was carried in a few paragraphs of an AAP release that also carried the report of US troop withdrawals from As Hau. In limited paragraphs Australian readers were advised of the following: ‘In Saigon the most powerful general of the South Vietnamese Army was 170


demoted today in a show of strength by the Prime Minister, Air Vice Marshal Ky’.133 Thi agreed to surrender his command. The forced resignation of ‘the most powerful general’ produced no additional information. It was not until two Asia-based correspondents filed reports that additional information on Thi was published. Creighton Burns, writing for the Age, exemplified the value of specialist correspondents by producing in one day a detailed and perceptive commentary that described Thi’s power base and the significance of his dismissal. He accurately forecast that the General’s removal from his ‘corps command and military junta may be the beginning rather than the end of another disruptive episode in South Vietnam’. 134 Burns’ report filled a vacuum, supplying personal and political details about Thi. Barker’s report also showed an understanding that nothing was known in Australia about this high ranking and politically powerful Vietnamese general. Barker’s detailed information about Thi, even though a personality report, read like the beginning of a novel: Trap-mouthed, tough to the point of brutality … A man who carries with him the aura of an ancient mandarin warlord … Thi gave me the impression of a man lonely, yet burning with intensity and perhaps ambition … His eyes are cold, set in a smooth, bronzed face decorated with a drooping moustache outlining a fairly thick-lipped, tightlyshut mouth.135 Some editorials addressed the issues involved in equating Australian support for South Vietnam as support for the Ky Government. Perceiving the damage that the reports of the execution of Ta Vinh and the sacking of General Thi could have on public confidence in the decision to escalate Australian military support, the Canberra Times argued that Australians ‘must always remember that in Vietnam we are not choosing between good and bad but between the lesser of two evils’.136 Then the paper redirected attention to questions defined by parliamentary debate as the important considerations: For Australia recently the main issues connected with the Vietnam war have been the outcome of military operations—how winnable is it as a war—and the gnawing Committing a Task Force

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problem of the morality of conscripting our young men to fight for us.137 There was virtually no Australian comment in papers on the significance of the civil disturbance in South Vietnam. Howson’s comment in his diary on 11 April illustrates how little was understood in Australia about Vietnamese politics, and how better informed politicians were aware of the significance of the disturbances, as had been the Australian correspondents in Asia. ‘The news from Vietnam,’ noted Howson, ‘of almost certain civil war between Buddhists and Catholics raises issues that are almost too terrible to contemplate. I am usually fairly optimistic and look on the bright side of life—but I’m damned if I can see any brightness whatsoever in this issue.’138 On 25 March the Advertiser did comment, making a number of salient points about the civil unrest in South Vietnam. It asserted that the Buddhists were opposed to the Government of South Vietnam, not the war. The demonstrating students, however, were anti-American as well as anti their government and ‘wide open to infiltration from the Viet Cong’. The workers at Da Nang, ‘who were making more money out of the American build-up than they ever earned in their lives before’, had called a two-day strike. Readers were told bluntly that the Ky Government ‘may’ be sincere and effective, but ‘it remains a Government without a popular base’.139 William Hammond’s analysis of the relationship between the American media and the military between 1962 and 1968 devotes a chapter to the controversies that occurred and/or began in March 1966. After discussing the rising American opposition against American policy in Vietnam, partly initiated and publicised by the chairman of the Senate’s Foreign Relations Committee, Senator William Fulbright, President Johnson took steps to ‘dilute the impact of Fulbright’s investigation’.140 One day after Australia announced its intention to escalate forces, Hammond indicated the lack of positivity that had existed in America towards the Vietnam conflict: American confidence in South Vietnamese progress nevertheless began to decline on 9 March, when a North Vietnamese regiment attacked a South Vietnamese Special Forces camp at A Shau, some 45 kilometres southwest of Hue near the Laotian border.141 172


Hammond analysed the reports from Vietnam related to this battle where the American advisers, South Vietnamese and Montagnard irregulars (from the mountains of central Vietnam) were forced to abandon their base. On the second day as supplies ran short, the American commander ordered helicopters to help with an evacuation of A Shau. When the helicopters arrived they were forced to leave empty because they were mobbed by panic-stricken irregulars. Earlier reports suggested no problems, praising the heroism of a pilot who landed on the enemy-controlled airstrip to save a ‘downed fellow pilot’. Praise for the courage of the Vietnamese allies was also carried in reports. According to Hammond the full story was not reported until 14 March when an American commander cursed the ‘South Vietnamese defenders as Viet Cong sympathisers’ and charged ‘that only the Montagnards had fought to repel the enemy’.142 The helicopter squadron commander was also reported as claiming that some of those who mobbed the helicopters had had to be ‘shot in order to maintain control’.143 Hammond stated that the news reports ‘caused immediate concern at the White House, prompting a Defence Department investigation that substantiated most of the details released by the news media’.144 Hammond’s analysis is noteworthy because the battle at A Shau was also reported through AAP and in Australian papers. There is no evidence that it raised concern in Canberra, in the press or in the community, despite the press concentration on Australia’s Vietnam policy debate from 9 March. The Canberra Times placed its small report about the shooting of South Vietnamese Allies for their attempt to overload evacuation helicopters on page one, under the heading ‘U.S. troops forced to shoot allies’. A two-paragraph report was published under a sub-heading in the Advertiser on page three, and the Australian published the incident in a short report on page five.145 The heading of the initial, far more lengthy, battle report in the Canberra Times on 11 March indicated a Viet Cong victory although the article referred ‘to the victorious Communist force, believed to be a reinforced North Vietnamese regiment’.146 The report discussed the heroic rescue of the downed pilot. The American commander of special forces in the area was reported as stating, ‘We sent in a flock of helicopters but the ceiling closed right in on them’. The report continued, ‘A heavy cloud had prevented effective air support or relief since the battle began’.147 The front-page summary in the Canberra Committing a Task Force

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Times, indicating the full report on page five, read ‘helicopters rescued the remnants of the US and Montagnard defenders after two days of bitter fighting’.148 In the Australian, a page one report was headed ‘U.S. pilot dives into bullets to save mate’149 and on 15 March it published a photograph of the US pilot and the friend he rescued under the caption ‘The war’s most daring rescue so far’.150 The Herald combined AAP and UPI coverage and reported the skirmish on page five: The garrison battled gallantly down to its last bullets. Some of the Americans and their allies, the wiry mountain tribesmen who make their home deep in Communist controlled country are believed to have been evacuated as the Viet Cong swept through the flaming outpost.151 It is impossible to say why Australian papers took little notice of the discrepancies between the initial and later reports of the battle at A Shau. All papers constantly carried news agency reports of battles in Vietnam. These reports often flowed without continuity or explanatory follow-up across the news, particularly the World News pages of Australian dailies. This example of the publishing of reports from sources in Vietnam indicates the lack of reliability in this instance of the first released reports. However, the analysis also indicates that American reporters followed up on discrepancies within the original reports when new information was discovered. The printing of the revised version of aspects of the battle in small reports, despite page one in the Canberra Times, appeared of little interest in Australia. One significant item in the reporting was the sensitivity in America to reports denigrating the courage and reliability of Vietnamese Allies in the field, as well as the tragic consequences of undisciplined panic by some of the irregular soldiers at a time when Johnson was attempting to improve public and political support for an escalation of American forces in South Vietnam. This was not a concern in Australia, whose involvement was not so closely linked to the daily reporting of outcomes in Vietnam as much as it was to discussion of those occurring in Washington. Daily reports of breakthroughs against the enemy were followed by reports of defeat of Allied soldiers. The frequency of such reports, more often than not relegated to World News pages, reduced their 174


impact for readers. For the involved reader of developments in Vietnam they would have been of more, although still limited, value. The situation in Vietnam was fluid and commentary rarely addressed this fact; nor did politicians. The consistency of the day-to-day reports of the war zone about the larger war, from which Australian troops would be increasingly isolated, produced agency reports that encouraged Australian indifference. The day-to-day direction of the war and longer term policy decisions were made by the Allies, specifically, America. As a result, Australia concentrated on central, repetitive themes such as the Alliance, the domino theory and the threat of Communism embodied by an expansionist China. It was domestic agenda-setting, specifically parliamentary, that produced commentary and debate in Australian newspapers. The reporting of Gunner O’Neill’s treatment (see below) was reporting about the war zone but it was personal, understandable, and Australian. It was also part of parliamentary debate. Its front-page coverage and follow-up reports made a significant contrast to the reporting of the events at A Shau.

‘Gunner O’Neill’ The increase of home-based reporting on Vietnam from 8 March was influenced by the release of information that an Australian gunner, Peter O’Neill, found guilty of disobeying a command given by his superior officer at Bien Hoa on 17 January, had been handcuffed in a pit for twenty days in Vietnam.152 With the exception of the Australian, all papers, in varying degrees of emphasis, carried all or part of the extensive news report from AAP and Reuters in Saigon. It is noteworthy that the paper most opposed to Australia’s commitment chose not to publish the ‘Gunner O’Neill’ report on 8 March and virtually ignored following reports on the incident, except for comments made in Parliament. The Herald and SMH carried the report on page one. In a small extension of the report in the Advertiser, the new Minister for the Army, Malcolm Fraser, was reported as stating that he had been responsible for sending the ‘Director of Legal Services (Col Ewing) to Vietnam for the court martial because the matter had been dragging on for too long’.153 The Herald reported that the soldier’s father, Mr John O’Neill, had been questioned at length by a Canberra official who had informed him that ‘three Labor MPs would bring up the case in the House of Representatives within three days’.154 While barely noticeable, these two reports signalled a political awareness of Committing a Task Force

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the issue. The beginning of the parliamentary session on 9 March assured the continuation of reports and became the stimulus for extended public interest in the treatment of Gunner O’Neill. Perhaps another factor that increased press and political interest was the fact that O’Neill had already received publicity when a letter he wrote to his parents from Vietnam had been published in the Sun a few months earlier. The headline read, ‘A letter from Vietnam, digger writes: “It’s a sick war” ’.155 According to one report, O’Neill’s father had written earlier in the year to the then Minister for the Army, Dr Forbes, who had clarified Mr O’Neill’s concerns that his son was being victimised.156 Over the next two weeks the new Minister for the Army faced questions in the House and by the time Fraser released a final statement on the issue on 16 March, it had developed into a public controversy. There is evidence that the reporting of the handcuffing of Gunner O’Neill was over-emotive and sensationalised in some Australian dailies.157 Willingness to highlight the emotive aspects is illustrated in the SMH’s report of the challenge from O’Neill’s father to the Government under the heading, ‘Parents bitter’: ‘I’ll fight the Government to the end over this. I’m only a bootmaker, elderly and without finance, but I won’t take this lying down … My wife and I married late. Peter’s all we have and when I heard this radio news item I almost died,’ Mr. O’Neill said.158 Three papers in the Weekly Times group—the Herald, CourierMail and West Australian—used their editorials on 9 March to comment on the soldier’s treatment. The Herald questioned the timing of Holt’s announcement of escalation, ‘following so closely on the news of the manacled soldier held in such harsh captivity in Vietnam. Surely a little time could have been taken to heal this great blow to the public conscience.’159 The choice of emotive descriptors left no room for personal reflection of an alternative viewpoint. The Courier-Mail’s editorial heading, ‘Want no chains on our soldiers’, was emotive but plain. The priority given to Gunner O’Neill over comment on Holt’s opening address to Parliament was in line with the paper’s orientation towards reporting the Australian soldier in Vietnam. Its editorials on Vietnam often reminded readers about the serving soldier and his right to be 176


supported by other Australians.160 On 2 March the paper had announced an Overseas Forces Fund for improvement of amenities and entertainment of Australian soldiers in Vietnam.161 The West Australian was willing to wait for Fraser to investigate the facts but demanded that once these were known they should be made public. While describing the action as ‘deplorable’, the West Australian did not believe the Army in Vietnam should be held responsible for the actions of one officer. The paper subtly differentiated between the image of the Army in Vietnam and its administrative wing in Canberra: Mr. Fraser must be conscious that the army’s administrative record, which included bungling over pay, equipment and mails, is not a particularly good one in Vietnam.162 The Daily Telegraph expressed no sympathy for Gunner O’Neill. The paper recognised the political potential for conflict that could increase interest in the incident. The paper attacked the ‘armchair critics’ and warned against political opportunism: It is not a case to be used for political attacks on the army. It is a case where the commanding officer’s position merits considerable sympathy.163 Reporting of the incident, with the concession in most papers that O’Neill’s action could not be condoned, produced little sympathy for the battery commander, Major Peter Tedder. The headlines in the SMH on 8 March read, ‘Australian handcuffed 20 days in Vietnam pit’. In his statement, Fraser announced that O’Neill had been handcuffed for seven days, not twenty. The SMH, while reproducing much of Fraser’s press release, chose to report only that ‘Mr. Fraser said reports that he was secure for 20 days were incorrect’.164 Reporting was prolonged as Fraser waited for transcripts of the court case in Vietnam. When O’Neill was flown back to Australia, Whitlam visited him in his ‘Army prison at Holsworthy’.165 The views of Mr H. V. Howe, former Secretary of the Army to two wartime ministers, demanding a review of the Australian Army Vietnam command and justice for O’Neill were reported.166 His letter to the Australian, signed ‘AIF, 1914–1919, Military Secretary to Minister for Army, Committing a Task Force

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1940–1946’167, indicated that the solidarity felt by one soldier for another was as important as his official status. O’Neill’s treatment was raised in both Houses of Parliament and debate reported.168 Some unions demanded O’Neill’s release169 and while the New South Wales president of the RSL, Sir William Yeo, refused to make a ‘judgement’ on the case, he stated that O’Neill should be given a chance to publicly explain his actions. Reportedly, according to Yeo, Australians had only heard the Army’s side of the incident; ‘We have not heard the facts’.170 There were few incidents, in terms of overall reporting during the war, of concerted press response to the behaviour or treatment of Australian troops in Vietnam. The potential for such reporting increased during parliamentary sittings where Question Time could be used by the Opposition to attack the Government on aspects of Australian involvement. Often interpreted as anti-Army, the attention given to reports on the conditions and treatment of Australian soldiers by politicians suggests that it was the anti-Government aspect that partly encouraged political debate and hence prolonged reporting. Anti-Army was not to be equated with anti-soldier. One represented Government, the other the proud tradition of the Australian ‘digger’. The fact that Holt’s first Address to the Nation announcing escalation and the commitment of national servicemen to Vietnam could vie in some editorial columns with the reports of alleged mistreatment of an Australian soldier illustrates the significance of newspaper interpretation of what the public wanted to know. Newspapers and politicians were both aware of the wider interest and public focus that reports concerning soldiers’ behaviour and conditions in Vietnam were capable of initiating; both used that predictability for their own purposes.

The National Serviceman’s Reaction At first glance, an Age article of published comments of serving national servicemen, under the heading ‘Vietnam better than Pucka’, may have produced a supportive image of conscript reaction to being sent to Vietnam.171 The fact that soldiers had been able to make comment suggested that authorities condoned what they saw as good or necessary publicity. According to the report, training had been stopped to allow the national servicemen to make their comments. In a seemingly humorous, and traditional, put-down of life at the Army training camp at Puckapunyal and the soldiers’ delight to be 178


leaving it for anywhere, more serious considerations could have been missed. In one sense they exemplified the reasons for Army, or politicians’ fear of uncensored soldier comment. Comments like ‘Vietnam better than Pucka’, and ‘Let’s do a job of work in Vietnam; anything’s better than Puckapunyal’ were reported to be the popular, if not the ‘universal’ response from a group of national servicemen after Holt’s announcement. The boredom of training and low morale were to be replaced with real work. Trooper John Callow’s reported response supported the statements of relief to be leaving Puckapunyal. However, his enthusiasm for service in Vietnam was tempered by further comment that soldiers got ‘a lot of propaganda at the camp and we don’t hear all sides to the story’. Although he felt he had enjoyed Army life and made the most of it, he ‘might have enjoyed civilian life more’.172 The reported comments of Trooper Noel Milikins also raised considerations about the extent and quality of information soldiers were receiving. Trooper Milikins believed that no one welcomed the Vietnam War and few of the troops had given the whole situation much thought: ‘Politically and militarily speaking I think we should go— but morally I think the whole business stinks,’ he declared. ‘The majority of the Vietnam people don’t care and won’t be with you. ‘But,’ he added, with a laugh, ‘I’ll still be glad to get out of this place.’173 The flippant final comment returned the article to its starting point, negating the seriousness of the issues raised. Not least of these issues, was the lack of a supportive Vietnamese context perceived by one soldier.174 Alan Ramsey, who sailed with 1st Battalion, RAR, on HMAS Sydney in May 1965 as a correspondent for AAP, recalls that the troops were subjected to an ‘indoctrination period’ on their voyage to Vietnam:175 That whole fortnight was spent telling the troops that you can’t trust anyone in Vietnam … you trusted nobody. Any Vietnamese was a potential Viet Cong and so they went with this attitude that they were completely surrounded by enemies all the time and you never trusted any South Committing a Task Force

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Vietnamese or any Vietnamese or any Asian looking person, particularly if they were dressed in black pyjamas. That was the mentality that went there. It was almost a siege mentality.176 When questioned further on the relevance of such information given the nature of a war without a front line, Ramsey replied that he was not saying it was wrong, but that it did affect morale: It wasn’t good for morale. They felt isolated. There was never any sense that the Australians felt that they were fighting on somebody’s side, except themselves, and most of them knew nothing about the war, the political circumstances of the war or anything else.177 The variation between newspaper image-making and soldiers’ actual comments was also evident in the Advertiser. Conscript Kevin Mitchinson claimed that conscripts were treated as equals in the Army and were as well trained as regulars. The soldiers understood what ‘was in store’ for them in Vietnam; ‘No one is treating this as a big joke or a big adventure’.178 In contrast to Mitchinson’s sombre tone, the reporter’s summary read that morale at Puckapunyal had been ‘bubbling like champagne since most of the troops there tuned into the parliamentary broadcast and heard the Prime Minister … announce the increased Vietnam commitment’.179 The Daily Telegraph reaffirmed popular mythology that hardship produces men from boys. Its heading, ‘Now they’re men, Diggers “busting to go” ’, nevertheless conveyed a sad scenario: The immediate impression is their youth. Yesterday, or the day before, they were boys. Today they are men. And in a few tomorrows they will be asked to prove it.180 The SMH adopted a different approach, criticising Mr Fairhall, the Minister for Defence, for his comments that the young servicemen sent to Vietnam would come back ‘better men’. The editorial claimed that while Fairhall may not have been speaking for the Government, ‘this kind of statement and the attitude of mind it reflects do the Government’s case great harm’.181 180


The final Government response to these reports was censorship. The lack of political or press interest in the tightening of Army regulations on information about Australian troops going to Vietnam suggests indifference or meek compliance with official control of the flow of information. In a small report on page three in the Australian Anthony Curtis, political defence correspondent in Canberra, stated that some officers believed that the Government was behind new ‘routine security’ measures aimed at restricting conscripts, soon to leave for Vietnam, from ‘airing anti Government views’.182 Reporters who flew to watch the training of task force members were warned that only the name of the commanding officer could be used and any discussion with soldiers would be in the presence of a public relations officer. In hindsight one point in Curtis’s report is particularly significant, suggesting a difference between the political perception of the reporting environment at home and in Vietnam. Reporting that the bans imposed would be eased in Vietnam, Curtis concluded that apparently ‘the Government feels the political climate in Australia is a little warmer than in Vietnam’.183

Reporting Other Opinion Despite the concentration of reports on the Australian political debate ensuing from the announcement to escalate military commitment, there was little specialised Australian comment during March. In other announcements studied, the limited specialist commentary was Australian. A marked difference in March 1966 was the contribution made byAmerican commentary in some Australian newspapers. This indicated wide public and political debate in America on issues arising from increased military intervention in South Vietnam. There was little attempt by the Australian press to become a forum for opinion within the community in extended or investigative articles. At times, public attitudes were carried almost incidentally in coverage of public lectures and debates that were reported as news. Despite the high profile of some speakers, their opinions were rarely printed in papers other than those in the city in which they spoke. These reports did convey participants’ viewpoints, in debate related to Vietnam, to the reading public. When academic, Dr Frank Knopfelmarcher, addressed a public gathering in Canberra, his views were carried in the report of the lecture in the Canberra Times. He believed that Australian security depended upon America’s presence Committing a Task Force

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in Asia. From Australia’s point of view, according to Knopfelmarcher, ‘opposition to Chinese hegemony in this area of the world’ was essential. Ignoring the arguments at that time that increased American effort could lead to Russian, and/or Chinese retaliation and thus widen the war, Knopfelmarcher advised that in ‘order for the west to benefit from the Sino-Soviet split it must be “tough with both of them” ’.184 When Professor Charles Patrick Fitzgerald, described as ‘one of the foremost authorities on China’, addressed a Rotary luncheon in Adelaide, his views were reported in the Advertiser. He addressed the problems of imposing democracy on China and the need for China to be recognised diplomatically. Assessing the economic and political problems in the future for China, Fitzgerald asserted that the ‘Chinese would be clearly unable to solve their problems if they engage in a third world war’.185 His opinion was published in one newspaper and sought by no others. The Australian produced one feature article written by two of its specialist journalists, defence reporter, Anthony Curtis, and Church correspondent, Graham Williams. Academic and historian, Ken Inglis, also contributed to the feature article. The heading, ‘Compelled to kill’, exemplified the tone of the paper’s editorial comment on conscription. All three commentaries opposed conscripts being sent to Vietnam. Williams attacked the churches which ‘by their silence have indicated their tacit support for the policy’.186 The continuation of his commentary publicised valuable Church opinion that would be difficult to describe as ‘tacit support’ for Government policy. It was being relayed to select public audiences through the alternative press. No investigative journalism produced articles on the attitudes to escalation being expressed in Church newspapers. Certainly the papers contained fewer responses from churches in March 1966 than in March 1965. As Williams’ article noted, the editorial against conscription in the Victorian Roman Catholic newspaper, The Advocate, had ‘immediately sounded alarms in political and church circles’. The editorial reportedly stated that ‘A conscript State is, in effect, a slave State: hence, it is something to be resisted unless in the last resort’.187 Williams claimed that the Advocate’s attack would undermine Government complacency. For too long the Government had assumed that justifying Australia’s involvement in Vietnam justified the use of conscripts. The Advocate supported Australia’s involvement in Vietnam but not the involvement of conscripts. Explaining why the 182


Advocate’s editorial was so vehement in its opposition to conscription Williams noted the connection between the appointment of the managing editor by the opponent of conscription in World War I, Archbishop Mannix.188 Williams believed that the influence of history on the conscription debate was important but, to an extent, also a liability to those opposing conscription in the Vietnam context. (This was also asserted by the Australian.) In his article entitled ‘A war against the tide of history’, Ken Inglis traced the history of opposition to conscription. He too claimed that there was a weakness in the Opposition’s stance against conscription because ‘some Labor men’ had opposed it merely with unthinking nostalgia. He quoted Calwell to illustrate his point: ‘We are an anti-conscriptionist party,’ said Calwell, ‘and when we cease to be that we cease to be an Australian Labor Party’.189

The Cartoonist’s Response There were relatively few cartoons related to Vietnam issues during the March coverage. Those that were published supported the editorial stances of their papers. Ian Gall’s cartoon on 10 March left little doubt of the Courier-Mail’s perspective. A tall Australian digger carrying a large knapsack on which was written ‘Trebled commitment’ was depicted striding forth to meet the monolithic cloud of Communist aggression that thundered towards Australia. The lightning fell back on land described as ‘The threat that is Vietnam’. The caption read ‘Northward bound’.190 This represented a fairly rare jingoistic response. The impact of cartoons in the Australian was greater because their two cartoonists, each conveying similar messages, were being published at the same time. Both politically astute, Aubrey Collette and Bruce Petty, remained opposed to Australia’s commitment in line with the Australian’s clearly established anti-escalation stand.191 Collette’s response to the escalation announcement depicted Johnson sleeping happily, counting sheep wearing digger hats.192 Petty used Holt’s announcement of an Australian medal for Australian soldiers in Vietnam as an impetus for his response. His medal read: ‘To politicians who would sacrifice a conscript rather than make an independent judgement’. It contrasted sharply with the editorial comment made in the Herald: ‘It is in line with the importance we give to Vietnam that Australians who serve there will get a special Committing a Task Force

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campaign medal. A small point perhaps, but a significant recognition that Australia now has her own role to play and makes her own decisions.’193 The most succinct comment about Australian attitudes at this time was made in a cartoon by Petty entitled ‘Deserters’. Australians were depicted like bears in hibernation huddled in an underground bunker with the smallest amount of light illuminating the conscription debate. The lit tunnel rose through the darkness of the underground, not into daylight but into greyness, where the Australian flag was broken over menacing barbed wire. The two reclining bears represented the totality of Australia’s interest in the Vietnam debate. Out of the darkness and above ground, two large groups of enthusiastic Americans, brandishing upright American flags, engaged in conflict, disregarding the danger of the barbed wire. They were involved in ‘the great debate’, confronting issues such as China, negotiations, Viet Cong representation and de-escalation. Petty’s cartoon hit to the core in its description of the Australian response to escalation that had been presented in Australian dailies.194 Australia and Australians had isolated themselves from an Australian interpretation of the primary considerations of the war in South Vietnam. Petty could see the reality, but the newspapers of Australia seemed unwilling or unable to respond to the problem. Other cartoonists added little for public or political consideration.195 Although Harry Eyre (Eyre Jr) in the SMH produced two cartoons related to conscription196 they lacked the pungency of Petty.197

The Dominance of the Political Source The most significant aspect of press coverage of Vietnam in Australian dailies in March 1966 was the dominance of parliamentary debate and politicians as the key source. This focus by the press on the parliamentary debate resulted in opposition to escalation being readily equated with opposition to conscription. This concentration owed something to the fact that Holt, unlike Menzies, had encouraged debate, not least by announcing the decision on the first rather than on the last day of the parliamentary sitting. It was also the result of the acceptance by both political parties and the press that the Kooyong by-election would be fought on the conscription issue. The reliance on political impetus for comment narrowed editorial perspectives. Despite praise and denigration of key political debaters 184


such as Whitlam, Cairns, Fairhall and Hasluck, the overriding sense in newspaper coverage was that Holt represented the Government and Calwell the Opposition. Even more limiting than this, was the impression gained in reporting that Holt represented the case for involvement, the maintenance of the American alliance and conscription, while Calwell represented the case for opposition to involvement which would affect Australia’s security because his stance would deprive Australia of American goodwill. Through the universal press denunciation of Calwell, a seeming support for the Government’s policy was established. The reality was that the Government was being criticised more determinedly by the Australian press than it had been accustomed to. The press was, however, willing to question only the boundaries of Government credibility: its performance, not its policies. Centring public response around conscription and the various moral questions that it raised, helped the press to avoid investigation of the wider base of Australian policy in Vietnam: the very characteristic that the press criticised politicians for avoiding. Conscription was accepted by Australian papers as a necessary burden because, morally, American conscripts could not be asked to die in the defence of an insecurity felt more immediately by Australians. The Australian recognised the problem of Australia’s public debate focusing on conscription: Should we in Australia put at stake our present and our future for such a muddled commitment as this? This is the overriding issue. Let those who are against the sending of conscripts to the war continue their opposition, but we beg them not to cause such an emotional furore that the debate on the real issue is lost in the din.198 None of the Australian dailies studied supported Government policy in Vietnam as consistently as the Australian opposed it. The intensity of the Australian’s forthright opposition to involvement and important considerations about the nature of the war exemplified a single-minded determination. The Australian had attempted to assess some of the broader issues of involvement. It had recognised the importance of China in the debate about escalation but the value of that recognition was partly lost in its commentary which based its Committing a Task Force

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conclusions on the possibility of a wider war. This argument highlighted the closeness of Communist states, not their individuality. It was by constant reference to expansionist and aggressive Communism that the Government had hoped to retain a public understanding that Australia’s security was threatened. During debate on escalation the Age had dismissed the validity of the domino theory, thereby indirectly challenging the need to stop the flow of Communism in South Vietnam. In contrast, the SMH declared acceptance of the self-interest of Australia’s objectives in Vietnam by supporting the domino theory: Even if Vietnam were ultimately to fall to the Communists, the war might still be worthwhile if it gained time for other nations, like Thailand, India and Australia, to build up their strength. This is a selfish point of view and it is open to the objection that we are buying our security at the expense of the Vietnamese people. This is an uncomfortable thought, but there is no evidence that it is shared by the Vietnamese.199 The lack of consistency of challenge in Australian newspapers continued to weaken alternative considerations of Australia’s involvement. Intermittent challenges to the main tenets of the Government’s Vietnam policy were lost in the continuing acceptance of the importance of the American alliance to Australian security. One important aspect of press commentary was its attempt to alert politicians to the idea that the ‘home front’ was increasingly pertinent to Australia’s continued participation in the war. The press displayed an insight into public uneasiness in advance of political recognition of the need to justify Vietnam policy. Their demand for clarity from the Government in its justification for widening Australian involvement was not so much the result of developing scepticism of the Government’s position, but an understanding by most papers that growing public questioning could undermine the determination to remain in Vietnam. Press intolerance of the Government’s Americanisation of Australian policy in Vietnam was clear in editorials and commentary in March 1966. The SMH was the most consistent critic of the Government’s failure to address the implications of escalation in 186


Australian terms. It rejected the Government’s reiteration of a Vietnamese request as justification for Australia’s commitment. The logic of its insistence on an Australian explanation was partly lost by its equal determination to remind readers that the American alliance was the most important factor in assessing Australian policy related to Vietnam. American commentary informed Australia of the wider debate on American involvement in Vietnam and the implications of this. American specialists analysed the varying perspectives of the developing debate on China. Petty’s cartoon ‘Deserters’ accurately characterised the portrayal of Australian interest and debate emerging in the Australian press in March. In February 1966 Macmahon Ball complained that while James Reston and Walter Lippmann’s ‘overseas appraisals’ were welcomed in Australian newspapers they were articles written: mainly for American readers and can assume a background knowledge of American politics, and particularly of the way domestic political considerations must influence Washington’s foreign policy. Lippmann and Reston are trying to influence American public opinion and perhaps the American government. They would be unlikely to have Australian readers or Australian’s distinctive interests even in the back of their minds. We need Australian commentators writing for Australians, understanding the Australian background and concerned first with Australia’s interests.200 Macmahon Ball’s plea for more specialised Australian comment need was timely. Australia needed to understand that the American debate did not necessarily fit Australia’s needs and interests. Lippmann and Fulbright’s views were rejected by the SMH because they were arguing from an ‘American point of view’.201This was consistent with the SMH’s demand for Australian explanations on commitment. A concentration on Australian perspectives may have led to an earlier questioning of whether Vietnam was vital to Australia’s security but the reality was that Australia’s commitment was intrinsically linked to America. During March 1966 there is evidence that Australian newspapers were becoming less reverent to the Committing a Task Force

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Government’s subservience to American policy and its inability to publicly present Australian considerations as a basis for policy. At the same time Australian newspapers were relying more heavily than in the earlier decisions studied here on American reports and commentary. American commentary also tended to be more opinionated than Australian specialist commentary that often filled the gap in Australian reporting as well. The diversity of response and reports on the Gunner O’Neill incident indicated the fascination that the community had for reports involving Australian soldiers. Such reports, because of their potential for public response, also aroused political interest. The defence of the image of the Australian soldier was part of the impetus for all those who contributed to public debate. Political opportunities were offered by these reports because they attracted a wide public focus. Nothing exemplified this more during Australia’s coverage of the war than the controversy that erupted in March 1968, over the alleged ‘water torture’ incident involving Australian soldiers and a female prisoner at Nui Dat in 1966. Despite frequent photographs of demonstrations and headlines that suggested a vocal public opposition, the overwhelming sense of public response that characterised the decision to send a task force was not evident in newspaper coverage of the decision. The multiplicity of letters to the editor suggested a wide public interest and thoughtful considerations of the political debate that dominated the newspapers. They also illustrated the reliance of public opinion on media and politicians for response. Published reports emphasising the public response were muted by a parliament in uproar that dominated the news pages of the Australian press. The press highlighted political response at the expense of disseminating wider responses including public opinion. News coverage illustrated that the determined newsworthiness of response to the escalation of the Australian military in Vietnam in 1966 allowed for political domination.

Notes 1

The decision to commit an infantry battalion in April 1965 was followed by further escalation of military and logistic support. Additional support units to the infantry force were announced on 18 August 1965, along with an increase in the national service intake. A task force was committed on 8 March 1966. Further increases were announced on 22 December 1966 and 17 October 1967.

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See, for example, Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, p. 214. The remaining 2 per cent was contributed by ‘other’ sources. See Payne, ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War’, vol. 2, Table: Reporting of Decision on 8 March 1966, pp. 177–86. 4 ibid. 5 ‘Debate on Vietnam warms up’, Canberra Times, 19 March 1966, p. 5. 6 R. Evans and R. Novak, ‘SEATO seen as a “forgotten document” ’, Australian, 11 March 1966, p. 7. (Words quoted were part of the report summary of Rusk’s words, not a direct quote from Rusk.) 7 ibid. 8 Grant, ‘The Role of the Foreign Correspondent’, p. 17. 9 ‘Australian troops to the rescue’, Advertiser, 19 March 1966, p. 3; ‘Australians in “Operation Silver City” ’, SMH, 24 March 1966, p. 2; ‘The diggers win booty and praise’, Australian, 24 March 1966, p. 1; ‘One Australian killed and eight wounded in Vietnam’, SMH, 15 March 1966, p. 1. 10 ‘Mr. Holt sells us short’, Australian, 10 March 1966, editorial, p. 8. 11 E. H. Cox, ‘Posting for NS men. They could be in Vietnam in a year’, Herald, 12 August 1965, p. 2. 12 ‘We are at war’, Canberra Times, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 13 A. Ramsey, ‘3000 more for Vietnam’, Australian, 9 March 1966, page one lead. The Canberra Times political correspondent also stated the number of servicemen to be sent in the first paragraph and in the second that ‘National servicemen will be among the soldiers sent to Vietnam’ (‘Vietnam force to be trebled’, Canberra Times, 9 March 1966, page one lead). See also, for example, ‘Vietnam force to be trebled’, Age, 9 March 1966, paragraph 1. 14 Calwell, CPD, HR 49, 1 December 1965, p. 3399; CPD, HR 49, 10 December 1965, pp. 3916–17. 15 Calwell, CPD, HR 49, 1 December 1965, p. 3399. 16 McNeill, To Long Tan, p. 181. It is important to note McNeill’s claim that the increased aid announced by Menzies on 18 August 1965 had been preempted by a ‘news leak which appeared some hours before’ in an article in the Sun, written by Pat Burgess. McNeill believed the leak had come from the Americans in Vietnam (McNeill, op. cit., p. 523, footnote 21). D. Warner, ‘More troops wanted by April’, Herald, 21 February 1966, p. 4. 17 D. Warner, ‘More troops wanted by April’, Herald, 21 February 1966, p. 4. 18 ibid. 19 ‘More for Vietnam’, Herald, 21 February 1966, editorial, p. 4. 20 ibid. 21 ibid. 22 Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries: The Life of Politics, p. 209. See also D. Warner, ‘U.S. not twisting our arm on extra Vietnam aid, but … More troops wanted by April’, Herald, 21 February 1966, p. 4. 23 McNeill, To Long Tan, pp. 186–7. 24 Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, p. 210. 25 ‘Australia’s new commitments’, Advertiser, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 26 ‘Mr. Holt’s first appearance’, Age, 8 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. This editorial also expressed the hope that Mr Holt’s Address to the Nation might ‘indicate 2 3


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how far the Australian Government’s forward planning has been influenced by the recent talks with the British Defence Minister [Mr Healey]’. 27 ‘New commitment in Vietnam’, Age, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 28 ‘Our part in Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 8 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 29 ‘America’s great debate’, Advertiser, 1 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 30 ibid. 31 ibid. On Americanisation of the war, see ‘Vietnam briefing, Critics are “far from satisfied” ’, Canberra Times, 5 March 1966, p. 7. 32 ‘The Vietnam debate’, New York Times, 17 March 1966, editorial. See Hammond, United States Army in Vietnam, Public Affairs: The Military and the Media, 1962–1968, pp. 228–9. 33 ‘Our part in Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 4 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 34 ‘A necessary defence cost’, Canberra Times, 1 March 1966, editorial, p. 2 35 ibid. 36 ‘Vietnam war is a fight for S.E. Asia’, Daily Telegraph, 3 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 37 See Randal Heymanson, ‘Vietnam critics routed’, Herald, 5 March 1966, p. 4. Note that this report was not printed in the Advertiser until 7 March with a by-line date 6 March, New York (R. Heymanson, ‘Critics in U.S. routed’, Advertiser, 7 March 1966, p. 2). 38 R. Macartney, ‘China as the new “giant” ’, Age, 11 March 1966, p. 2. Macartney claimed that a columnist in Washington had reported that Peking had ‘already said Senator Fulbright coos like a dove, but flies like a hawk’. 39 See table, AAP-Reuter report from Saigon, 1 March 1966. See, for example, ‘Saigon calls for more troops’, Canberra Times, 2 March 1966, p. 5. 40 ‘U.S. Vietnam force of 215,000 more troops ready’, Courier-Mail, 4 March 1966, p. 4. 41 ‘U.S. increases combat troops in Vietnam by 30,000 men’, SMH, 4 March 1966, p. 3. 42 ‘20,000 added to Viet force’, Age, 4 March 1966, p. 4. 43 Quoted in Edgar, The Politics of the Press, p. 97. 44 ‘Regular’, Age, 10 March 1966, ‘News of the Day’ p. 2. 45 Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, entry for 27 February 1966, p. 209. 46 ibid., entry for 31 March 1966, p. 215. 47 Lloyd, Parliament and the Press: The Federal Parliamentary Press Gallery 1901–88, pp. 244–5. See press briefing following PM’s Statement on Government Policy, 9 March 1966 (Holt file, Parliamentary Library). 48 Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, entry for 22 February 1966, p. 208. 49 ibid., entry for 21 February 1966, p. 208. 50 Howson’s diary suggests an incredible reliance on press acceptance, as well as a very close relationship with the Age, with a special reliance on the views of Bruce Grant. The willingness of the press to influence politicians and vice versa is well documented in Howson’s diary. While not related to Vietnam, see Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, pp. 435, 487, 488, 494, 502, 531, 573, 574, 613. 51 Lloyd, Parliament and the Press, p. 244. 52 Press briefing following PM’s Statement on Government Policy, 9 March

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53

54

55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62

63 64 65 66 67

68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75

76 77 78 79 80 81

82 83

84

85

86

1966 (Holt file, Parliamentary Library). K. Inglis, ‘Compelled to kill. A war against the tide of history’, Australian, 26 March 1966, p. 7. ‘Our part in Vietnam,’ Canberra Times, 4 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. The editorial asserted that it was ‘certain’ Australia would send more troops. ‘New commitment in Vietnam’, Age, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Mr. Holt’s first appearance’, Age, 8 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Much principle; little policy’, Age, 11 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Hasluck lulls us to sleep’, Australian, 12 March 1966, editorial, p. 6. ‘Any real choice in Vietnam?’, Australian, 13 March 1966, editorial, p. 6. ‘Task force to go to Vietnam’, Courier-Mail, 10 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. Herald, 10 March 1966, p. 5. Unlike 1965, America’s thank you hadn’t warranted page one. ‘Boots and all’, SMH, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘A time for dignity’, SMH, 26 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘The far shore’, SMH, 18 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. See report, for example, ‘Executive passes Whitlam affair to Federal Conference’, Canberra Times, 4 March 1966, p. 1. ‘Uproar again in Vietnam debate’, Advertiser, 25 March 1966, p. 1. ‘A time for dignity’, SMH, 26 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Vietnam force to be trebled’, Age, 9 March 1966, p. 1. ‘Give us the facts on Vietnam’, Australian, 17 March 1966, editorial, p. 8. ‘The Vietnam debate’, Canberra Times, 16 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Conscription’, SMH, 30 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Mr Calwell is putting politics first’, West Australian, 23 March 1966, editorial, p. 6. On policy, see, for example, Whitlam, Beyond Vietnam, pp. 17–18. ‘Labor and conscription’, Advertiser, 31 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Stifling explanations on Vietnam’, Advertiser, 30 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Mr. Calwell on Vietnam’, Age, 17 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Labor’s appeal to emotion’, Age, 23 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Mr. Calwell on Vietnam’, Age, 17 March 1966, p. 2. ‘Mr. Calwell should tell the electors why the ALP has not learned from the lessons of the Second World War and subsequent events that such rigid, old-fashioned notions have to be discarded.’ ibid. See also ‘Labor’s appeal to emotion’, Age, 23 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Opposition’s phoney tranquilliser’, Daily Telegraph, 8 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Mr. Holt’s report to the people’, Daily Telegraph, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. The notion that Labor parliamentarians were always directed had gained considerable credence as a result of the ‘30 faceless men’ election in 1963. A. Reid, ‘ALP instructs Calwell. Accuse U.S. over N. Viet.’, Daily Telegraph, 5 March 1966, p. 3. Warner had noted in February that some Australian


191

87

88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101

102 103 104 105

106

107 108 109 110

111

112 113 114 115 116

thinking was ‘harder than the American line. “You’ve got some dangerous hawks of your own,” one American official commented.’ (Herald, 21 February 1966, p. 4) ‘Calwell’s punch was too wide’, Australian, 23 March 1966, editorial, p. 8. The editorial criticised not only Calwell’s excessive emotionalising of the issue but his attack on Asian students in Australian universities. Calwell’s emotionalism was also attacked in similar language by the SMH: ‘The almost exclusively emotional tone of Mr. Calwell’s argument against conscription … must be a worry to those in the Labor Party who are seeking a more cogent line of opposition to Government policy.’ (‘Lessons for A.L.P., 1–from Kooyong’, SMH, 4 April 1966, editorial, p. 2) ‘Calwell’s punch was too wide’, Australian, 23 March 1966, editorial, p. 8. ‘Lessons for A.L.P.’, SMH, 4 April 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Policy of platitudes’, SMH, 11 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Uproar again in Vietnam debate’, Advertiser, 25 March 1966, page one lead. ibid. ‘Resolution at home’, Age, 30 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ibid. ‘Our part in Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 4 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘A new session, a new test’, Canberra Times, 8 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘We are at war’, Canberra Times, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Tell us more Mr. Holt’, Advertiser, 10 March 1966, ‘Douglas Wilkie’s As I See It’, p. 2. ‘The far shore’, SMH, 18 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘A time for dignity’, SMH, 26 March 1966, editorial, p. 2 . Press briefing following PM’s Statement on Government Policy. Interview given by the Prime Minister, Mr Holt, to the press gallery, Canberra, 9 March 1966. (Holt file, Parliamentary Library) J. Bennetts, ‘Kooyong and Vietnam’, Age, 22 March 1966, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 2. ibid. ibid. ibid. D. Warner, ‘Haiphong: A U.S. dilemma’, SMH, 31 March 1966, p. 2. American reports had raised this issue earlier in March in Australian newspapers. Staff correspondent, ‘Expectation by China, U.S. “makes war more likely” ’, SMH, 8 March 1966, p. 3. ‘U.S. aim is to stop China’, Australian, 4 March 1966, p. 5. ibid. ibid. ‘Threat of global war seen in Asian events’, Age, 11 March 1966, p. 1. ‘Labor stand on Vietnam. “Red Chinese must be at peace talks” ’, Age, 7 March 1966, p. 3.

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W. Lippmann, ‘Containing China’, Age, 10 March 1966, p. 2. ibid. For further attitudes expressed, see W. Lippmann, ‘U.S. policies need basic overhaul’, Age, 26 March 1966, p. 5. 119 W. Lippmann, ‘U.S. caught up by policy myth’, Age, 12 March 1966; R. Macartney, ‘Softer line on China’, p. 5. 120 R. Macartney, ‘China as the new “giant” ’, Age, 11 March 1966, p. 2. 121 Foreign editor, ‘The Chinese shadow’, Advertiser, 12 March 1966, p. 17. 122 ibid. 123 ibid. 124 ibid. 125 See editorials: ‘Spectre of World War Three’, Australian, 16 March 1966, p. 6; ‘Perils in Red showdown’, Australian, 24 March 1966, p. 6. This editorial stated: ‘The consequences of Vietnam are not limited to what China may or may not be forced to do. The world is in peril that this war may only be the fuse to a cataclysmic conflict between the great powers from which will emerge no victors but only victims.’ 126 For example, see ‘Father of 8 to die’, Herald, 8 March 1966, p. 5. 127 B. Deepe (Herald Tribune, NY), ‘Dawn death has the Chinese angry’, Australian, 18 March 1966, p. 5. 128 D. Kiker, ‘LBJ’s chips ride on Ky’, Australian, 19 March 1966, p. 5. 129 Twice during March Thi had operated against orders in Saigon in the demilitarised zone. See Hammond, The U.S. Army in Vietnam, Public Affairs, p. 252. 130 ibid. 131 ibid., p. 253. 132 ibid., p. 255. 133 ‘General demoted’, Canberra Times, 11 March 1966, p. 5. 134 C. Burns, ‘Signs of strain in Saigon’s military junta’, Age, 12 March 1966, p. 5. 135 G. Barker, ‘Did Ky fear him as rival’, Herald, 12 March 1966, p. 5. 136 ‘Strong arm in Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 19 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 137 ibid. 138 Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, p. 216. 139 ‘First Buddhists, now students’, Advertiser, 25 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. 140 Hammond, The U.S. Army in Vietnam, Public Affairs, p. 247. 141 ibid., p. 250. 142 ibid., p. 251. 143 ibid., p. 252. 144 ibid., p. 155. 145 ‘U.S. troops forced to shoot allies’, Canberra Times, 18 March 1966, p. 1. ‘Had to shoot’, Avertiser, 18 March 1966, p. 3. ‘GI’s shoot panicking Viet allies’, Australian, 19 March 1966, p. 5. 146 ‘Viet Cong victory, U.S. troops forced to withdraw’, Canberra Times, 11 March 1966, p. 5. 147 ibid. 148 ‘Vietcong take U.S. camp’, Canberra Times, 11 March 1966, p. 1. 149 ‘U.S. pilot dives into bullets to save mate’, Australian, 11 March 1966, p. 1. See also report ‘Rebels over run border base: Heavy death toll’, p. 7. 117 118


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151 152

153 154

155

156 157

158 159 160 161 162 163

164

165 166

167 168

169 170 171

172 173 174 175

176

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Photograph, ‘The war’s most daring rescue so far’, Australian, 15 March 1966, p. 5. ‘U.S. loses 1000 men in a week’, Herald, 10 March 1966, p. 5. ‘Australian handcuffed 20 days in Vietnam pit’, SMH, 8 March 1966, p. 1. (There were other reports throughout the paper.) Under report ‘Vietnam soldier in handcuffs’, Advertiser, 8 March 1966, p. 3. Sub-heading under page one heading, ‘Father’s view’, Herald, 8 March 1966, p. 1. His parents had sent the letter he wrote to them from Vietnam to the Sun (Melbourne), 23 December 1965, p. 3. ‘Parents bitter’, SMH, 8 March 1966, p. 1. En route from Vietnam to Australia, O’Neill was detained at Changi in Singapore, pending further investigation of the incident in Vietnam. The headline in the Sun (Sydney) read ‘Gunner O’Neill held at Changi 3 Aussie Soldiers on Charge’, Sun, 10 March 1966, p. 1 lead. ‘Parents bitter’, SMH, 8 March 1966, p. 1. ‘Mr. Holt’s decisions’, Herald, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 4. ‘Task force to go to Vietnam’, Courier-Mail, 10 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘Here’s your fund for our troops overseas’, Courier-Mail, 2 March 1966, p. 3. ‘Handcuffed gunner’, West Australian, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 6. ‘Two sides to O’Neill’s punishment discipline’, Daily Telegraph, 11 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. ‘ “Discipline” on gunner’, SMH, 17 March 1966, p. 10. The Advertiser reported the full text of Fraser’s statement: ‘Action called on gunner’, Advertiser, 17 March 1966, p. 3. ‘Whitlam sees O’Neill’, Daily Telegraph, 16 April 1966. See, for example, ‘Call for drastic review of army’, Canberra Times, 16 April 1966. ‘Justice for the soldier’, Australian, 21 April 1966, ‘Letters to the Editor’, p. 8. See, for example, ‘Holt to ensure O’Neill is treated fairly’, Canberra Times, 21 April 1966; ‘Parliament may hear court transcript’, Age, 16 April 1966. ‘Set gunner free demand by unions’, Age, 14 April 1966. ‘Let O’Neill tell his story: Yeo’, Canberra Times, 15 April 1966. ‘Vietnam better than Pucka’, Age, 11 March 1966, p. 3. The report was accompanied by a photograph of a national serviceman signalling from the turret of a troop carrier. Those interviewed were from the 1st Armoured Personnel Carrier Squadron. ibid. ibid. ‘Trainees want to fight’, Canberra Times, 12 March, 1966, p. 8. Pat Burgess also recalled that troops were given lessons on Communism based on what the Catholic padre, Jerry Cudmore, could remember from seminary lessons. Pat Burgess, Interview with author, and Father Jerry Cudmore, Interview with author. A. Ramsey, Interview with author, 3 August 1984. For a similar description of soldiers’ attitudes to the Vietnamese, see Ross, ‘Australian Soldiers in Vietnam. Product and Performance’, pp. 82–3. A. Ramsey, Interview with author, 3 August 1984. See, for example, McKay,

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178 179 180

181 182

183 184

185 186 187 188

189 190 191

192 193 194 195

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198 199

In Good Company: One Man’s War in Vietnam, p. 5. ‘Eager to go’, Advertiser, March 17 1966, p. 9. ibid. ‘Now they’re men. Diggers busting to go. Next stop Vietnam’, Daily Telegraph, 12 March 1966, p. 15. ‘The far shore’, SMH, 18 March 1966, editorial, p. 2. A. Curtis, defence correspondent, ‘Army bans names of men in Viet force’, Australian, 22 March 1966, p. 3. ibid. ‘ “Liquidate north to end war” says lecturer’, Canberra Times, 2 March 1966, p. 10. ‘China: Hopes of a new era’, Advertiser, 16 March 1966, p.2. G. Williams, ‘Lone voices from the church’, Australian, 26 March 1966, p. 7. ibid. ibid. The managing editor of the Advocate, Father Dennis Murphy, was appointed by Cardinal Mannix to the post twenty years previously. The interest in the influence of the past on opinion, in this instance the Advocate, was also raised in commentary on ‘Catholics and conscription’ by Gavin Souter. See G. Souter, ‘Data, people, ideas, action’, SMH, 24 March 1966, p. 6. K. Inglis, ‘A war against the tide of history’, Australian, 26 March 1966, p. 7. Gall, cartoon, Courier-Mail, 10 March 1966, p. 2. George Munster, journalist, editor and publisher, claims in his book, Rupert Murdoch, p. 88–9, that Douglas Brass had written the editorial opposing Australia’s decision to send a battalion in 1965. He suggests fluctuation of that stance by Murdoch which is important because he also cites Murdoch as forbidding Bruce Petty to ‘touch on the Arab-Israeli conflict’. There was no change in Petty’s anti-war stance even if Murdoch’s stance did fluctuate. Collette, cartoon, Australian, 10 March 1966, p. 8. ‘Mr. Holt’s decision’, Herald, 9 March 1966, editorial, p. 4. Petty, cartoon, ‘Deserters’, Australian, 23 March 1966, p. 8. Hannaford’s comment on 17 March noted that the Opposition and Government agreed that the poll issue would be ‘Conscripts to Vietnam’ but used his cartoon to suggest that Calwell’s position after internal Labor leadership disputes might prevent him from getting there. (Advertiser, 17 March 1966, p. 2) SMH, 24 March 1966, p. 2; 28 March 1966, p. 2. George Molnar did not produce a cartoon on Vietnam issues during March. Gavin Souter described Eyre as ‘accomplished but more conventional’ than Molnar (Souter, Company of Heralds: A Century and a Half of Australian Publishing by John Fairfax Limited and its Predecessors 1831–1981, p. 328). See for example, Petty, ‘The ratbag element’, Australian, 30 March 1966, p. 8. This cartoon superimposed a photograph of a wounded Vietnamese woman holding her child over bearded, long-haired, clichéd ‘ratbag’ protesters carrying placards against the war. ‘Muddled issue of Vietnam’, Australian, 31 March 1966, editorial, p. 8. ‘Holt’s report, 11-Vietnam’, SMH, 10 March 1966, editorial, p. 2.


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Ball, ‘Foreign News and the Australian Community: The Role of the Foreign Correspondent’, p. 17. ‘Holt’s report’, SMH, 10 March 1966, editorial, p. 2.

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5

The ‘Water Torture Incident’, October 1966

The most intensely reported incident of alleged Australian misconduct during the Vietnam War was what became known as the ‘water torture incident’.1 ‘The story has ever since been used to support partisan stands.’2 Many in the Australian military believe that the press was responsible for undermining public support of their involvement in the war. Study of the reporting of this incident reveals, however, not an oppositional press, but rather, evidence that Canberra remained the impetus for concentrated press coverage on aspects of Australian involvement. An examination of the reporting of this incident and associated issues that arose from it exemplifies many of the complexities of communication that can determine press coverage. It highlights the inscrutability of the communication process and the coincidental factors that can coalesce to create front-page news and public information. The incident was reported again in the Fairfax press in May 1990,3 when Terry Burstall, a soldier in Vietnam in 1966, returned to Vietnam to find answers to questions about Australia’s involvement in the war. On two separate visits he interviewed To Thi Nau, the woman who had been at the centre of the controversy in Australia in 1968.4 According to Lieutenant General Sir Thomas Daly, Chief of the General Staff, the incident was the only one, with the exception of the Phoenix program, where Australian soldiers ‘broke the rules of

the Geneva Convention’ while in Vietnam.5 While it may represent the study of a minor incident, it is also the study of a major and continuing controversy related to Australian soldiers in South Vietnam. The communication process in a democratic country is highly complex. Essential to the success and quality of a democracy is the free flow of information. The press is the vital conductor between elected and electors. Its effectiveness is determined not only by the contribution of reporting and publishing, but also by the quality of the information derived from individuals and institutions. The influence exerted by any one component can be hindered or extended not only by the information offered, but by the receptiveness of the press to that information. Through framing and the news values the press plays an important role in determining the impact of any issue reported. In this instance, allegations of torture, involvement of the Prime Minister and the Parliament, and an issue which the public, military and politicians could emotively respond to made up the essential ingredients for press attention and reporting. The intrinsic interest of particular information may extend its reporting. As well as these news values, the water torture incident had the timing and conflict between key players in the telling of the reported story. This interplay between valued sources on Australia’s involvement in Vietnam illustrates the role each played in attracting and holding press attention, whether wanting to or not. Key political and media players attempted to use the press to convey their messages and/or their part in the story as it publicly unravelled. The loss of control of this intended use of the press by some owed much to their own fumblings and inexperience. There was a failure to appreciate the varied interpretations that a mediated message can convey and the publicly assigned expectations of the communication roles expected of journalist and politician. Politicians remained central to the initial interest in and intensity of the final reporting of the incident. While restricted in many ways, the most influential characteristic of the press in the communication process is its decision to publish. Individual journalists are often directed by their Chief of Staff to write particular news stories. In Vietnam, journalists were partly freed from this direction because of isolation from their respective newspaper offices and because they were often in the position of informant to their newspaper editors. In the absence of a competitive reporting environment for Australian information, due to the absence 198


of continual representation of any one Australian newspaper in Vietnam during the war years, the freedom of individual journalists to decide what would be reported was increased. The water torture incident refers in some ways as much to its intense reporting in 1968 in Australia as it does to the actual events that occurred in Phuoc Tuy province, in an area of Australian military control, in 1966. Australian troops found a young woman hiding in a tunnel and took her back to Nui Dat for questioning. Although she claimed to be a nurse, she had been found with a radio transmitter in an area where Viet Cong had been operating. In attempting to gain information quickly from her, Australian interrogators allegedly threatened their prisoner with ‘a form of water torture’. During that interrogation at the Australian base camp at Nui Dat at least one Australian warrant officer broke the rules of the Geneva Conventions in his interrogation of the prisoner. The incident was watched in part, and listened to, by three Australian journalists. Major Ernest Ross Smith, then Army public relations officer at Nui Dat, had invited John Sorell from the Melbourne Herald, Geoffrey Murray from AAP and freelance Australian photographer, Gabriel Carpay, to watch the arrival and interrogation of the prisoner. Another reporter, Malaysian Indian, Istiaq Ahmad, was also present and filmed some of the events involving the female prisoner. Australian soldiers also stood outside the tent and heard the interrogation by the warrant officer. An official Army inquiry was held into the incident in Vietnam by Brigadier Jackson, the Task Force Commander. The capture of the woman was reported in the Sun on 14 November 1966, but the story of her interrogation that revealed the breaking of the Geneva Conventions was not printed in the Australian press until March 1968.

The Allegations of Martin Russ Martin Russ, an American writer, had spent part of the summer of 1966 with the Australian Task Force in Phuoc Tuy province. In 1968 he published a book of his experiences in Vietnam and wrote of water torture being used on a female Viet Cong prisoner by an Australian soldier.6 Russ admitted that he had been told of the story by two Australian correspondents, one of whom was later identified as John Sorell.7 Russ also criticised the military technique of Australian soldiers in Vietnam, basically asserting that by creeping through the The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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jungle and avoiding the trails, the Australian soldiers also avoided contact with the enemy: Maybe this is why the Australian Task Force has such piddling contact with the other side—sniper fire, booby traps, an occasional mortar round. Long Tan (245 Viet Cong and 18 Australians killed) is their only battle so far, and it was an occasional meeting. One can’t help visualising the superbly trained Aussies, proud of their reputation as jungle masters, searching diligently through the forest gloom while Uncle Ho’s nephews parade up and down the paths in perfect safety.8 Alan Ramsey, who had reported from Vietnam, wrote that Russ’s allegations were ‘extravagant, ill-informed and viciously phrased, and hardly seemed worthy of official rebuttal’.9 The attack on Australian methods, as opposed to American, had been a recurring theme in the press throughout the war. The criticism, however, created a perfect entree for defensive public praise of the professionalism of Australian troops. Phillip Lynch had just been appointed as the new Minister for the Army and this increased the likelihood that he would comment. Lynch had received unfavourable publicity when he was appointed. Under the heading, ‘Rumblings over Lynch for Army’, Canberra political correspondent Wallace Brown had written that ‘the question spread around the parliamentary lobbies with an everincreasing momentum, “Why Lynch?” Up and down the long, ever lengthening, halls of Public Service power rumbled the comment: “Bit risky, Eh?” And … in the Russell Hill Defence complex—Canberra’s “Pentagette”—people were asking: “But who is he?” ’10 The comment provides an interesting context for what was to happen over the next few days. An examination of the reasons for the public denial of Russ’s claims by Lynch provides an insight into the complexities of the communication system and the reliance on seemingly insignificant factors for the final flow of public information. As a new minister Lynch placed great faith in what his department told him. The trust placed in that communication may be tempered by expediency but both factors can affect the quality of public information relayed by press publication. For the Minister the situation provided what he 200


hoped would be favourable publicity for himself; for journalists, it was a colourful story enhanced by ministerial comment; for the public, information about the soldiers in Vietnam was endorsed by official government comment. Unfortunately for Lynch, Russ’s account had a basis in truth. Furthermore, in 1968 there were journalists in Australia who knew this. The ensuing debate proved a great embarrassment to the new Minister for the Army, revealing ineffective communication between politician and department and the temporary change of Ross Smith from his public relations position in the Department of Army in Canberra. Ross Smith had been the public relations officer in Vietnam in 1966 and had been responsible for asking the journalists to the tent where the woman was interrogated. All this added a new intensity to the demand in Parliament that press censorship of the Vietnam War be introduced.

The Denial: The Minister and the Department of Army Initiate their Role in the Production of Press Coverage of the Allegations The Department of Army first became aware of the incident about midday on 7 March 1968 when parts of the account by Russ were cabled to Australia by a Washington-based Australian reporter.11 Press in Australia asked for comment on the allegations made by Russ. Thus it was Australian reporters who initiated the interest in Russ’s comments about Australian troops in Vietnam. The questions were directed to the untried Minister for the Army. His inexperience added much to the saga that followed. Lynch met with First Assistant Secretary, William Curtis, and Assistant Secretary, William Major, and asked them to investigate the claims immediately.12 Initially, no one in the Department of Army believed that the allegations could have a basis in fact. Major believed that the lack of scrutiny into the allegations was helped by the allegation of cowardice against Australian soldiers in not following the tracks in the jungle as American soldiers often did. ‘This was so patently silly that I think one tended to think everything else was nonsense,’ asserted Major. The editorial in the SMH on 9 March supported this view: Mr. Russ’s book hardly commended itself as a work of scrupulous authority … it contained extravagant and illinformed accusations about the conduct of Australian The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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soldiers in battle. The Minister was, understandably, tempted to dismiss all charges as baseless.13 Sir Thomas Daly, Chief of the General Staff between 1966 and 1971, had also advised the Minister that he did not believe that a female prisoner had been subjected to ‘harsh’ treatment during interrogation in Vietnam in 1966. ‘I was unaware of the water torture case,’ said Daly. ‘In fact, I didn’t believe it happened. The report I had from Vietnam was that it hadn’t happened but I subsequently found out that it did happen.’14 The denial by the Department at this stage was influenced by a trust in communication between Canberra and Vietnam. As a new minister, Lynch was anxious for publicity. Nevertheless, he sought advice from Major on whether he should accept the invitation from the ABC to appear on the current affairs program, This Day Tonight, on 7 March.15 Acknowledging the Minister’s desire for public exposure, Major told Lynch to accept, because the allegations appeared baseless. Reflecting on his role in the widening press interest on the issue, ‘This was my first mistake,’ said Major.16 An innocent, but naïve, Lynch enthusiastically faced his first television appearance as Minister for the Army that evening on This Day Tonight. Michael Willesee was the interviewer and, according to Major, Willesee was considerate of Lynch. He gave him a copy of the questions before the cameras came on and Major and Lynch discussed the answers. Willesee told Lynch that this was not his normal practice but acknowledged the importance of the interview for a new minister.17 Lynch totally dismissed Russ’s allegations: ‘Heaven’s above,’ exclaimed Lynch, ‘there is no substance to this. We know the Australian soldier to be a fine fighting soldier …We go after the Viet Cong. We are in this to fight the Viet Cong and we will fight them where they can be located. This is our technique.’18 Asked if he would investigate the claims in Russ’s book, Lynch replied: Of course any report that comes before my department will be investigated in complete detail. We don’t let anything go 202


by regardless of how fatuous they seem. I don’t take this with any seriousness but I will follow it through.19 Thus Lynch committed himself and his department to an investigation of Russ’s claims, despite the fact that he had already publicly denied their validity. When questioned on the alleged water torture of a female prisoner Lynch responded dogmatically: I would say, according to my information there is not a scintilla of evidence to support charges of this type. This is completely foreign to what we know of the Australian soldier. Australia is a party to the Geneva Convention and we scrupulously observe its rules and regulations. Our soldiers are explicitly instructed in the best form of humane treatment.20. Major believed that a fatal mistake for Lynch was the use of the word ‘scintilla’. Being an unusual word it probably attracted more public attention than a more common word might have. It certainly highlighted Lynch’s absolute denial of the charges against an Australian soldier. Playing to the media attention Lynch decided that after his interview with Willesee he would invite press gallery journalists, also eager to ask questions, back to his office at Russell Hill and supply drinks so the evening could be a prolonged social occasion to meet the new Minister. On the journey back to that engagement, Lynch asked Major how he had performed in his interview. Major replied: ‘Don’t be too extravagant … Something might have happened … Leave yourself a slight out.’21 Although intended as an informal ‘get together’ over drinks, some journalists reported the next day about Lynch’s comments at his ‘press conference’, giving a more official accent to Lynch’s denial of misconduct. Lynch was a little less dogmatic, evidenced by the fact that journalists chose to quote the comments from his television interview earlier in their reports printed on 8 March. Towards the end of the evening, Ross Smith approached Major and asked if he should have interrupted Lynch while he was speaking to the journalists to confirm that a woman was interrogated harshly in Vietnam in 1966:

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‘Should I have said I was there and I saw the water getting carried into the tent?’ asked Ross Smith, while the room remained half full of journalists who were not committed to the morning paper deadlines.22 Ross Smith’s disclosure at this time of the evening was significant because it appeared to reduce the validity of the accusation made by some press and politicians that the Department was guilty of deliberate secrecy on the issue. In his Ministerial Statement Lynch was to claim that his denial of allegations on 7 March had been based on ‘information available at that time … The specific incident of the Nui Dat interrogation, to which the book made hearsay reference, was not known to me at the time. Why this information was in the hands of my advisers is an internal matter which I shall resolve with the officers concerned.’ 23 First Assistant Secretary, William Curtis, had interviewed Ross Smith before Lynch appeared on This Day Tonight. Smith told Major that he had tried to tell the Secretary what had happened but obviously he had failed to communicate the seriousness of the incident.24 Ross Smith later claimed that ‘It was the people advising the Army Minister Lynch who said “There was nothing in it”. That is what I had told them.’25 The comment by Ross Smith on the information he gave the Department is obscure. Ross Smith denied the torture of the prisoner, which was the immediate concern for investigation on 7 March. Secure in that denial, which was also the expected response to allegations from a ‘chatty’ American publication, civilians within the Army may have been responsible for an insufficient investigation of the incident. When Ross Smith told Major that water had been taken into the tent, Major decided not to inform Lynch immediately while journalists were still present and others had already filed their copy. He did not totally trust that Ross Smith knew what he was implying. Lack of trust for Ross Smith’s judgement was crucial in Major’s decision not to inform Lynch until early the following morning. ‘It was my second mistake,’ claimed Major.26 Bruce White, Secretary of the Department of Army, had been away when the first press queries were investigated by the Department. He claimed, said Major, that if he had been present the quagmire that developed for the Minister and the Department would not have happened. His experience may 204


have added something to the way the reporting of the incident developed. He claimed that he would have informed the Minister immediately on 7 March of Ross Smith’s account. Lynch’s trust in his department must have been tried when he discovered that Major had retained vital information, even though late, on the evening of 7 March.27 By the time Major understood that the allegation required further investigation, it was already too late. Lynch’s denial on national television left no room for belated manoeuvring or reconsideration. The Australian capital city dailies varied in the emphasis they placed on Lynch’s denial. It was not reported in the Age, Courier-Mail, or West Australian. The other dailies printed the denial in their general news pages.28 The Canberra Times differed slightly, but significantly, in the emphasis it gave to Lynch’s remarks by headlining its report ‘Lynch denies plan to vet war news’.29 The report indicated that no change in the official non-censorship policy of reports from Vietnam was envisaged by Lynch. The SMH reported Lynch’s remarks on censorship but gave initial prominence in the report to the denial of brutality and cowardice charges. It was Lynch’s denial that increased interest in the story and even his statement produced little response, with the exception of the Australian, in the Australian press. Only the Australian highlighted the story on its front page, where it was the lead and headlined ‘Minister denies Army brutality’.30 Lynch displayed total ignorance of the interrogation of a female prisoner by Australian soldiers in Vietnam in 1966 despite the fact that one of his press officers, Ross Smith, present with Lynch at his briefing of journalists in Canberra on 7 March, had also been present at the interrogation at Nui Dat in October 1966. Ross Smith had been responsible for inviting press to the interrogation in Vietnam and was therefore well aware that some of the Australian journalists who had observed the event were now back in Australia. One of those journalists was John Sorell, still in the employ of the Herald. That evening Sorell rang Lynch and informed him that the story was not without basis and the next day the Herald carried his story.31

Sorell’s Disclosure Sorell claimed that on 25 October 1966 at the Australian Task Force headquarters at Nui Dat, some Australian soldiers had used water to torture a female Viet Cong suspect. Sorell wrote that for half an hour The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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he had watched a warrant officer force water from a pannikin down the woman’s throat, while her head was held and her mouth prised open by other soldiers.32 During this treatment the woman had screamed and come close to fainting. When the officers became aware of Sorell’s presence, there was obvious embarrassment, claimed Sorell, and he was asked to move outside the tent where the interrogation was occurring. The warrant officer emerged half an hour later and the girl, who had fainted, was carried to a prisoner-of-war compound at the camp. Sorell wrote that he informed the Army press relations officer that he intended to write an article about the incident. Ross Smith reported this to the Task Force Commander, Brigadier Jackson, who decided to ‘classify’ the story, a decision relayed by Smith to Sorell. Sorell said he did not write the story because the Army asked him not to.33 His disclosure—after Lynch’s denial of the incident, followed quickly by Lynch’s promise of a full investigation of the incident—helped to bring public comment from other journalists also present at the interrogation, Gabriel Carpay and Geoffrey Murray. Gabriel Carpay, a Canberra photographer, had been in Vietnam for three months during 1966. He photographed the prisoner before and after interrogation. He claimed that he had not witnessed any torture and he could not remember Sorell being allowed inside the tent where the alleged water torture took place. ‘We went to that tent, but we were not allowed inside. The tent was closed.’34 Sorell’s account suggested a more brutal and prolonged interrogation than the account given by Carpay. Sorell claimed the girl had been dragged into the tent and bound to the chair by rope. Carpay said the woman was not bound. Water had been carried into the tent in a ‘heavy jerrican’ and he had heard ‘groaning and moaning’. While he emphasised not having witnessed torture, he admitted that some form of water ‘treatment’ had been used. When the door of the tent had been opened, he had photographed the woman signing a statement. According to Carpay, she looked distressed. ‘Her hair was wet, her face was wet, her jacket was wet’. He too had been asked to treat the story as ‘classified’ and had not published his material until March 1968.35 It is important to note that despite Carpay’s claim that the Army had requested that the event should not be publicised, he did try to sell his photographs to the Australian in December 1966, but they were not interested. American Associated Press bought two 206


negatives from him but did not use the photographs.36 Carpay was reported as saying that, at the time the pictures were taken, nobody was really interested in them.37 When asked by an interviewer if the story had been ‘a non-story then and a story now?’, Carpay replied, ‘I don’t think it was a non-story then. I don’t know why they didn’t pick it up as a story.’38 Only one journalist had filed the story in 1966 and he did not refer to harsh treatment of the prisoner. ‘As far as I was concerned the matter was sub judice and I had no intention of writing a story along “torture” lines—which I would not have done based on the information I had,’ stated Murray.39 His account of the incident in 1968 was informative and better written than his account in 1966,40 and made Sorell’s account look sensationalised, without really removing the question of the severity of the prisoner’s treatment.41 Much of Murray’s account contained the same information that he had released in 1966. He explained how the prisoner had been found with a high frequency radio, had spent the night handcuffed to an Australian lieutenant because a helicopter had not been able to remove her due to the darkness, had been sick on the flight back to Nui Dat, had been very uncooperative during interrogation, and had proved not to be a nurse as she had claimed. In 1966 Murray had not mentioned water being used in the interrogation. It was a significant addition to his account in 1968 when he reported that he had seen a ‘jug of water being carried into the tent, heard choking noises and some coughing, which could have been interpreted in one way as a version of the water torture or simply someone drinking a glass of water too fast’. 42 It was the only time the container for carrying the water into the tent was described as a ‘jug’. Murray also attempted to explain why the Army public relations officer asked the journalists to move to the back of the tent: ‘Perhaps because we were not entitled to be in a restricted area without permission from the commanding officer’.43 In the light of other evidence, these attempts, to present the most innocent of explanations did little to establish credibility for himself or the Army. An analysis of the reports of the event indicates the significance of the headlines and headings chosen by editors or sub-editors to frame the information presented. The Herald headed Murray’s account ‘I saw water go into tent’44, words that suggested confirmation of Sorell’s account. The headline in the Age report of Murray and Carpay’s account stated the opposite. It read: ‘Torture in Vietnam not The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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borne out by two’.45 In both papers the content of Murray’s report was identical, a reprint of Murray’s report on the incident. The Australian headed Carpay’s statement in the first edition of its paper with the words, ‘Photographer claims that he was there’. In the second edition of its paper, the one sold in the metropolitan areas of Sydney and Melbourne, the heading read: ‘We heard her groaning and moaning’. The second was a more emotive heading yet the report was identical to that in the first edition. The text of the report began with the claim that Carpay was present when the interrogation and alleged torture took place. While the first sentence conceded ‘alleged’, the wording of the second sentence suggested confirmation by Carpay of torture. According to the report in the Australian Carpay had ‘supported the statement by John Sorell, the Melbourne Herald correspondent, who said yesterday he had witnessed the torture’.46 Carpay used the word ‘treatment’, not torture. His account did little to dispel the confusion about the degree of harshness in the treatment of the prisoner. The difference in headlines highlighted the difficulty for readers in trying to determine what happened, despite the fact that they were being presented with unmodified publication of accounts from reporters present at the time. The papers used headlines to frame differing interpretations of the same information. Carpay and Murray produced reports that indicated they were not sure what had happened inside the tent. The heading to Murray’s account in the Herald suggested support for Sorell’s account but Sorell wrote for the Herald and it had been responsible for the initial release of his disclosure. In considering that conclusion it is important to note a claim in the Age that Sorell had ‘rejected a suggestion by “Herald” chief of staff, John Fitzgerald, that he had “ratted” on the boys in Vietnam’.47 Considerations required in the reporting of a story that involved a public or military perception of lowering the morale of Australian soldiers in a war zone added to the complexity for editors and journalists alike of the reporting of public information. Deliberation on this aspect was removed from any one newspaper office by the decision of other papers to publish. The ambiguity evident in the newspaper headings of the Age and the Herald exemplified the difficulties for the Australian public of trying to distinguish between sensation and truth. Sorell’s decision to publish his account of the incident at Nui Dat provided the catalyst for continued interest in the story. An analysis of the reports in the morning papers reveals that two aspects 208


of the story influenced editors’ interest. One was the claim by Sorell to have seen the torture of the prisoner; the other was the response by Lynch to set up a court of inquiry into the incident. In contrast to the lukewarm response to Lynch’s denial on 7 March, Sorell’s disclosure and Lynch’s response resulted in front-page coverage in every Australian city daily on 9 March. Papers that had ignored Russ’s claims as newsworthy a day before, now published his allegations.48 The Herald had headlined Sorell’s account, ‘I saw digger torture girl’. The account by Sorell left no doubt that torture was an appropriate term to describe the treatment of the prisoner. The words ‘digger’ and ‘girl’ were emotive. ‘Digger’ was a common term in reporting for Australian troops, conjuring up a traditional, heroic image, and while ‘girl’ may have depicted the youth of the nineteenyear-old prisoner, it suggested an innocence and vulnerability that her actions against Australian troops belied. Although the effect was modified by its context in some headlines every daily newspaper, with the exception of the Courier-Mail, used the word ‘torture’ in its headline.49 Equally significant was the fact that every paper except the Daily Telegraph chose to headline their reports with the news of Lynch’s inquiry into the incident. The two important aspects of information to emerge on 8 March were thus strangely linked in the headlines of Australian dailies on 9 March. Although there were slight differences of emphasis given to the development of the story, with page one coverage by every newspaper, only the Age minimised the impact of the page one coverage with other reports about the war. John Tidey’s report in the Age, while detailed, was less extensive than those in other papers. It did not refer to Carpay or Murray’s accounts.50 The report at the top of page one emphasised the plight of the Vietnamese people and reported on the paper’s ‘People of Vietnam Appeal’. The eyecatching aspect of the page was a photograph of a Vietnamese woman carrying her injured child, pleading for help at a United States marine aid station in Hue. Thus, Vietnam information dominated page one, but the torture inquiry represented only one part of that emphasis.

An Open or Closed Inquiry Initially the debate that developed about the inquiry was whether it should be an open or closed one. Lynch was reported as being in favour of allowing the press to report the inquiry because of ‘public The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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interest’ in the story.51 His stance was supported by the new Prime Minister, John Gorton. The general secretary of the Australian Journalists’ Association, Syd Crossland, met with Lynch and requested not only an open inquiry but also legal representation for the journalists who might be required to give evidence. Most editorials supported an open inquiry and most wrote confidently of that eventuality.52 Readers were reminded that Gorton had a reputation for openness on questions, regardless of their potential for harming the Government’s image. The Prime Minister was reminded in Parliament and by the press of his publicly expressed attitude ‘that Governments ought never to seek to suppress news or information whether those Governments feel it is for the moment to their advantage to do it or not to their advantage to do it.’53 Gorton was reported to have told Army authorities that he favoured the inquiry into the alleged torture being held in public and that he would only change his viewpoint if he could be convinced that military security was involved. Editorials supported this approach. The Opposition was demanding an open inquiry into the allegation. The SMH editorial on 12 March initiated comment on the subject and supported Gough Whitlam’s insistence on an open inquiry into the allegations of torture. In two editorials on 9 March and 12 March, the SMH presented its views. The first editorial was highly emotive, describing the allegations of torture as ‘profoundly shocking’. It stated that nothing but ‘the most searching investigation’ into Sorell’s report would satisfy the Australian people. If the allegations proved true than at least the Australian Government would have publicised to the world that it did not condone the action and that ‘Australians everywhere felt a deep and burning shame’.54 The second editorial reiterated that only an open inquiry would satisfy the ‘Australian conscience’. It claimed that the importance of the issue was not simply a matter of internal military discipline, but an issue involving Australia’s reputation and ‘vitally touching public confidence in the conduct of the war itself. Grave allegations have been publicized both in Australia and abroad. They must not only be taken seriously, but must also be seen to be taken seriously.’55 The need to differentiate between being doing and being seen to do was interesting. The Age supported the call for an open inquiry on similar grounds, advising that Lynch had very little choice but to call a court of inquiry into the incident. 210


These are grave allegations. No matter what the battlefield stresses and frustrations troops must endure in Vietnam, no Australian Government can condone the sort of brutality which is said to have occurred. Those who replace the Geneva Convention with a savage code of their own must be punished, and severely. Right now, the point which is tending to become dangerously obscure is that nothing yet has been proved. In fairness to all those involved, this fact should not be drowned in any wave of public indignation at the nature of the charges.56 The confused approach in this editorial exemplified the ambiguity adopted at times by editorialists. Having expressed a viewpoint, some editors seemed to then subtly acknowledge an inability to publicly support their line of argument. The need for Australians to be seen as concerned about allegations of brutality was a consistent reason cited in editorials for the Government to hold an open inquiry. Equally consistently, editorials defended themselves from the appearance of damning Australian troops in Vietnam by publication of the incident. For example, the Mercury editorial reminded readers that the alleged incident had occurred in a war environment and ‘while phrases such as that she was crying hysterically may touch the soft hearted they do not alter the fact that she was one of a ruthless gang with many atrocities to answer for’. The Mercury wrote that it did not find torture ‘excusable’ but an isolated incident ‘must not be used to besmirch the army as a whole’.57 The Advertiser editorial, having defined torture as ‘the infliction of severe bodily pain as punishment or means of persuasion’ and not just the threat of pain, claimed that an inquiry needed to be held to establish which treatment the woman had been subjected to.58 The Advertiser acknowledged the moral dilemma involved in casting judgement: The classic dilemma of choosing between violence to a prisoner, or a suspect, and the deaths of soldiers or civilians rises every day in Vietnam. As a moral problem there is no solution. If an officer knows that his failure to make a man or woman talk may mean the extinction of a whole village or platoon, is he morally right in refusing to use force to get the information he wants?’59 The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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Significantly, the editorial warned that the French had been defeated in Vietnam and later in Algeria by a loss of public support at home as the result of a ‘gathering flood of accusations that torture was being used’.60 For this reason Australian soldiers in Vietnam should be seen to have nothing to hide. In line with other editorials the Advertiser also praised Australian troops in Vietnam claiming that they had a ‘second-to-none reputation for their qualities of help and compassion: this has been attested time and again’.61 The Age assured readers that nothing had been said to ‘damage the reputation of Australian troops in general’.62 Editorials supported the demand for an investigation and related its need to Australia’s public image and that of its troops, acknowledging the inherent damage to that image the reporting of the allegations had already produced. The most extensive editorial was published in the Canberra Times, which raised a number of issues not commented on in editorials of other papers. It questioned the right of the Army to censor reports from Vietnam if that information had no genuine security reason for being classified. It questioned the procedure of the Army in making sure that it did not employ ‘sadists in interrogation situations’.63 The editorial noted the emergence of the issue as a political one and for this reason the editorial supported a court of inquiry. The linking of this eventuality to the fact that Parliament was about to begin a new session, with Lynch facing it for the first time as Minister for the Army, highlighted an understanding of the use made of the press by politicians. Issues raised in Parliament often owe more to political ‘point-scoring’ than to the intrinsic importance of the issue discussed. It was a legitimate concern raised by the editorial in relation to the Nui Dat allegations but it ignored the fact that the press, particularly through its editorials, had defined the issue as one of national honour. A sensationalist element in the reporting of the incident could have been added if Whitlam’s demand to bring the prisoner to Australia to give evidence to the inquiry had received greater attention. With the exception of the Herald most papers chose to ignore Whitlam’s remarks or to place them in the text of other information about the inquiry.64 Lynch was not the only politician to suffer from emotional and over-enthusiastic responses to the situation. The Herald used Whitlam’s demand as its lead story on 13 March.65 In its editorial the Herald added to publicity given to Whitlam’s remark by 212


supporting it. ‘And the woman, if the South Vietnamese to whom she was handed over have not killed her, should certainly be sought as a key witness.’66 The SMH also commented on Whitlam’s demand and criticised the implication that Australian evidence could not be trusted. ‘There are sufficient witnesses available to get the truth without looking for it from the lips of a Communist spy.’67 The press’s lack of interest in Whitlam’s remark was partly the result of Cabinet’s decision on the evening of 13 March68 to abandon an inquiry into the incident, reportedly because of the strong stance taken against it by Fairhall, the Minister for Defence. Both the SMH and the CourierMail detailed the Opposition Leader’s demand in reports that headlined the Cabinet decision.69 The inconsistent approach of the Government helped to maintain front-page interest in the water torture allegation, although the release of information indicating there would be no inquiry in advance of the parliamentary debate lessened the impact of Lynch’s Ministerial Statement.

The Army’s Actions in 1966 The eventual front-page coverage of the interrogation occurred because the military authorities failed to make clear to the Department and the Minister the harshness of the treatment received by the female prisoner in 1966. In analysing the development of press interest in the incident at Nui Dat, the complexities associated with responsibility for coverage become obvious. The willingness of the various informants within the communication process depended on the nature of the information being disclosed and the necessity for disclosing it. The development of press interest in the interrogation at Nui Dat was the result of the inconsistency exhibited in the information released by the Minister as much as in the intrinsic interest of the allegations. The Daily Telegraph initiated its report on page one with the headline ‘Torture ruled out of Army hearing’. The report communicated Lynch’s denial of torture but an admission that threats had been used against the prisoner in a way that was not in accordance with the Geneva Conventions. All papers reported Lynch’s statement that an inquiry into the incident had been carried out in Vietnam by the Task Force Commander, Brigadier Jackson, in 1966 and that Sorell’s allegations had not been substantiated. ‘The finding of the investigation was that the woman had not been physically ill-treated in any way,’70 said Lynch. The warrant officer had been removed from The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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all further interrogations. Despite knowledge of this action in Vietnam and an acknowledgement that the Geneva Conventions had been broken by the threat of torture, Lynch proposed a full and immediate investigation into the incident. He had received more information from the Army but his comments indicated, in hindsight, that he was still being told less than the truth.71 ‘Lynch kept making contradictory statements … The reason the poor bloke did that was that we kept getting completely conflicting statements from Vietnam,’ claimed Major.72 Alan Ramsey expressed similar analysis of the failure of consistent information between Department and Minister, a view expressed in a number of papers. Writing in the Australian, Ramsey was damningly forthright: ‘Somebody involved in this nasty mess the Army now finds itself in is telling a pack of lies’. In his view the Minister had a number of people around him who could have informed him of the facts of the incident but none had. A ‘cover-up’ conclusion in the circumstances was a reasonable deduction.73 Although Major said that in the first instance Vietnam was not consulted Daly’s account tends to dispute this. What is evident from the claims of both Daly and Major is that those who had been in Vietnam in 1966, in particular Brigadier Jackson, who was then in Sydney, did not confirm the facts of the interrogation the first time they were consulted.74 It was not until the report of the official inquiry into the incident reached Canberra on Tuesday 12 March, after being ‘specifically requested’, that the facts of the interrogation were finally known within the Department. ‘There it was! Signed by Jackson.’ An officer had been removed from any future interrogations.75 For the civilian hierarchy in the Department of Army the report and its recommendations indicated that Army Command in Vietnam had doubted the acceptability of an Australian soldier’s behaviour during the interrogation of a female prisoner in 1966. One reason given in an editorial in the SMH supporting an open inquiry into the incident was that a closed inquiry had already been held. It was, manifestly, either inadequate or incompetent. Indeed it was such a furtive affair that the Minister for the Army … did not even know it had been held.76 The fact that there had been an inquiry in Vietnam in 1966 did add to public suspicion that the incident was serious. The explanation of 214


what happened at Nui Dat in 1966 by one officer present helps to illustrate how the incident developed and why reports on it were so confusing.77

One Army Officer’s Account Alec Piper, a major with Staff Headquarters in Vietnam, was in charge of preparing members of the Intelligence Unit at Nui Dat for the interrogation of the prisoner in 1966. His account provides a valuable basis for assessing the information released publicly in 1968 and helps to personalise and explain some of the decisions taken during and after the interrogation in Vietnam. According to Piper, in the final week of October 1966, soldiers with B Company, 6th Battalion, found a three-tiered tunnel system incorporating three trap doors and an escape route into the mountains. In the lower tunnel a woman was found, ‘holding herself flat against the wall of the tunnel’. Beside her was a radio claimed to have been used to communicate Australian and Allied troop movements to the Viet Cong. Other material found included codes, call signs and frequencies. Headquarters at Nui Dat was informed of the woman’s capture but was unable, because of the mist and lack of daylight, to extract the prisoner from the hills.78 Handcuffed to an Australian soldier, she spent a cold night with her captors. Next morning she was flown to Nui Dat by helicopter. Although Piper did not see her arrive, he was told that the prisoner had been close to collapse on arrival and had to be carried from the helicopter.79 This account is substantiated by Sorell although his account was more emotional. ‘She had been ill several times on the helicopter flight and had to be half dragged, half carried to the interrogation tent. She was terrified. When they took off the gag and blindfold she started to cry hysterically.’80 The major in charge of the Intelligence Unit in Nui Dat was absent at the time of the incident. His absence was important because neither Piper, nor the warrant officer who conducted the interrogation, were working within their area of specialised training. The Canberra Times query about the acceptability of those carrying out the interrogation deserved investigation, despite the sensationalist context in which the editorial raised the matter. It had questioned if ‘sadists’ were kept from such areas of employ on 11 March 1968. After the interrogation incident had been debated in Parliament and not denied, the Canberra Times wrote that the torture at Nui Dat looked The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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like a ‘false issue’ and the paper concluded that ‘in the circumstances talk of sadism or licensed brutality is a distortion’.81 As a result, Piper was responsible for organising the woman’s interrogation. He was a member of the Intelligence Unit by default, and while he was an experienced infantryman, he had ‘not had a lot of Intelligence training’, but he had had ‘a little’.82 The interrogating officer was a counter-intelligence officer, responsible for securing Australian information, not interrogating prisoners. Piper informed the American authorities of the woman’s capture and they were ‘keen to have her so they could give her a thorough interrogation’. As a result of this American interest Piper told the Australian intelligence officers that they had only approximately twenty minutes to do a brief questioning of the prisoner for ‘immediate, tactical information’. Certain members of the Intelligence Unit were responsible for assessing the radio set and signals and a warrant officer was arranged to interrogate the prisoner. After her arrival, Piper went to check with the soldiers looking at the signals and was told that the information was ‘very important, very useful’. Piper then went to the interrogation tent and was surprised to see people, including press, around it. Inside the tent Warrant Officer Second Class K. D. Borland,83 was sitting opposite the prisoner with a folding field table between them. An interpreter was present and a guard to restrain the prisoner if needed.84 The interrogating officer informed Piper that the woman had showed him routes in and out of a village used by the Viet Cong. The woman claimed to be a nurse delivering supplies to the Viet Cong and the warrant officer was pleased that the prisoner was being very helpful and cooperative. ‘I wasn’t a professional intelligence officer,’ said Piper,’ but I just couldn’t believe that the guy that was doing the interrogation could have been led up the garden path as much as he clearly had been’.85 Murray’s 1966 published account of the incident appears to confirm Piper’s conclusions: ‘All we really found out was that she was a damn good liar,’ said Corporal Peter Barl, of Palm Beach, N.S.W. who carried out the interrogation. ‘She told us she was a nurse, but when we asked her to identify the medicines from her first aid kit she couldn’t distinguish between an aspirin and a pill for rheumatism.’86 216


Piper must bear responsibility for changing the nature of the interrogation at this stage. He became agitated with the warrant officer, telling him that he had wasted the fifteen minutes he had had, that he was a ‘bloody fool’ who had been getting the ‘runaround’. After calling for a medical kit, Piper proved that the woman could not identify common drugs. ‘Perturbed’, ‘upset’, ‘annoyed’, were the adjectives Piper used to describe the state of the warrant officer after his intervention. He was also embarrassed by the attack on his intelligence and his handling of the situation, aggravated by the knowledge that the press and soldiers had heard it. Now angry, the warrant officer started to pound the table with his fist.87 Piper noticed the change in the woman’s attitude. Previously composed, confident, self-assured, she was now visibly frightened by the anger exhibited by her interrogator. Although pressed for time, Piper believed that useful information might then have been obtained. He left the tent granting the warrant officer another ten minutes to prove it. As Piper left the tent he observed that he and the others gathered outside the tent could hear the angry voice of the warrant officer and hear him pounding his fist on the table. He dismissed later claims by some of these observers that they heard the woman being tortured with the comment: ‘I don’t doubt that they heard her cry out, in fear, not because she was being hurt, at this stage’. Significantly, one Australian officer questioned Piper about what was going on, his interpretation of events based on what he could hear, but not see. He told Piper that he should not let the interrogating officer ‘beat up’ the woman. Piper retorted that he was not a ‘bloody fool’ and that no one had ‘laid a finger on her’. The officer was senior to Piper, and Piper suggested that he should use his seniority and enter the tent to observe what was going on. ‘He did a real Pontius Pilate and walked away,’ said Piper.88 The misperception of the severity of the interrogation by one senior Australian military officer highlights the difficulty for journalists, militarily untrained, of producing a realistic assessment of what was happening inside the tent. Having checked with the men investigating the woman’s documents, who found little of importance in them, Piper returned to the interrogation tent. He saw one of the guards carrying water in a jerry can into the tent. In the tent he found the woman had a towel wrapped around the front of her body to catch water and one of the soldiers was ‘holding her nose and they were pouring water, forcing The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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her mouth open and pouring water down her neck’. Initially Piper was ‘a bit stunned, nonplussed’, and he felt that they ‘should not be doing it’. Clearly the treatment of the woman was in breach of the Geneva Conventions, but so was prolonged interrogation. Piper acknowledged the difficulty for any Australian officer ‘faced with the responsibility of deciding how far you go in breach of the Geneva Convention’.89 Sir Thomas Daly stated that he did not condone the interrogation methods used against the female prisoner but he was not sure that he would not have done ‘something similar’ if it was to save Australian lives. He likened adherence to the letter of the Geneva Conventions in war to two teams playing football, where one side plays by the rules and the other side does not, and there is no umpire.90 How far you go in breaking the official code of behaviour under which the Australian Army conducted its military operations in Vietnam was a moral as well as a practical consideration for Piper: I think it was both issues that made me decide. We weren’t getting anywhere and there was a moral issue as well. So it was a relatively easy decision for me to make. It took about one minute to make that decision, but I don’t think any reasonable man could have come to that decision any more quickly.91 The interrogation was ended, the tent flap was opened so that the bystanders could see that the woman had not been treated as harshly as the sounds from the tent might have indicated. Piper claimed that the journalists present at the interrogation did not write a story about the incident because they did not have one. They suspected the woman was beaten up, because they heard noises, they heard the shouting out. They saw water carried into the tent and thought she was being given some sort of water torture. They were then given the chance to see the interrogation concluded. They saw the woman and could see that she was not harmed.92 According to Piper, Brigadier Jackson’s decision to call an official inquiry into the incident added validity to what the journalists thought had happened. Then journalists could assume that what they 218


thought happened, did. One significant claim by Piper was that the inquiry was initiated more as a result of internal competition among certain members of the Intelligence Unit than as a matter of concern about misconduct. He described the relationship between the ‘senior NCOs’ in the Intelligence Unit in Vietnam as more than ‘friendly rivalry’; it was ‘open hostility and competition’. Jackson was concerned about the press presence at the interrogation and that what happened there was being discussed around the Australian camp. It was not until the padre took the concern expressed to him by an intelligence officer, who had not been present at the interrogation, to Jackson that he decided to initiate an official inquiry. Piper claimed that the intelligence officer could have discussed it with his superiors, but he chose to take his ‘moral concern’ to the padre, ‘not out of any altruistic motives, but purely out of resentment and competition between the people concerned’. This assertion is important because it would detract from the seriousness of the incident if the inquiry had been initiated as a result of promotional opportunism within a particular unit rather than in response to the interrogation itself. Piper told Brigadier Jackson that it was unnecessary to remove the warrant officer who conducted the interrogation from his position. Interrogation was not the usual intelligence area for the officer concerned and Piper claimed that in his own area of expertise he was the best available. The warrant officer was banned from any future interrogations.93 The inquiry in Vietnam added weight to the later claim that there had been serious misconduct at Nui Dat. Evidence was taken under oath and the investigating officer concluded in his report that ‘the Geneva Convention had been contravened’.94 Jackson had been agitated enough to demand an inquiry but did not find the results of that inquiry serious enough to inform the Department of Army authorities in Canberra of the incident in October/November 1966. If the inquiry was not militarily significant, then the reasons for its instigation were important, because the inquiry was to be used as an excuse for eliminating a more extensive investigation by the Government in March 1968. If the inquiry was instigated even partly as a result of camp discussion and soldier rivalry then some military personnel must be regarded as accountable for the substantiation the inquiry gave to the allegation made in the press by Sorell in March 1968. It was the initial denial of torture from the Army The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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that helped to prolong Lynch’s untenable public position on the matter. Defining the degree of severity in the treatment of the prisoner was an issue for all who communicated about the incident and for the public, trying to resolve what happened from subjective and confusing interpretations. Importantly, Piper admitted that the woman was held and water poured down her throat but did not define this as ‘some sort of water torture’.95 The confusion of degree in defining words and actions by individuals is the essence of the problem as it developed in the reporting and interpretation of the interrogation of a female prisoner in October 1966. An understanding, or at least an appreciation, of that confusion, is vital in assessing the role of the press in the reporting of the Vietnam War. A soldier in a war zone, surrounded by death and destruction, would not have necessarily defined the woman’s treatment as torture. A civilian in Australia, never touched by the realities of war, may have found the word ‘torture’ an appropriate description. Public, yet personal, interpretation of events by soldiers, politicians, journalists and members of the Australian public were often based on genuine conviction, but was too readily defined by those with other interpretations as definition by self-interest. Piper concluded his comments on the inquiry by stating that Sorell had seen nothing, but when Jackson conducted the inquiry the journalists did have a story. ‘They had it on the authority of the Brigadier that it had occurred. Then, of course, it did spring.’96 The story was not ‘sprung’ after the inquiry. It took sixteen months before the story gained prominence in Australian newspapers, and then less as a result of its intrinsic importance than as a convergence of many circumstances, not least of which was the failure of the Army in Vietnam to inform Canberra of the incident when it had happened in 1966. It was clear that Lynch was uninformed. His embarrassment could not have been relieved when he admitted in his Ministerial Statement that the report on the investigation in Vietnam had been completed on 31 October 1966 and had been received in Canberra on Tuesday, 12 March 1968, after being specifically requested.97 Fairhall, the Minister for Defence, dismissed this aspect of the issue by supporting the approach taken by the Army. He had been in Vietnam a week after the incident occurred in 1966. He had flown over the area where the prisoner was captured, but claimed that he had not been 220


informed of the interrogation or resultant inquiry. As far as he was concerned the ‘Army had put this matter in its proper perspective, and dealt with it on the spot adequately’.98 Kim Beazley, Labor Member for Fremantle, came close to putting the matter in its proper perspective. He claimed that the water torture case was one in a series of incidents where civilian ministers had been misinformed and that only with ‘extreme reluctance’ did the service chiefs permit enquiries into what they ‘regarded as their private domain’. 99 Journalists displayed their ability to be politically astute when they chose to report, from the mass of Vietnam discussion in the House of Representatives on 28 March, Beazley’s remarks.100 The relationship that existed between authorities in Vietnam, and politicians and their departments, deserved investigation. If information was withheld from Canberra by Vietnam, at an official level, the implications for a true understanding of the war are clear. The public was, perhaps if only for expediency, forced to trust that someone in the Government was making national decisions based on a fully informed position. If politicians such as Fairhall acknowledged their willingness to delegate that responsibility to authorities in Vietnam, it was a legitimate question to ask where responsibility and trust finally rested. Both had proved misplaced. The press could justifiably criticise the lack of communication at official levels but its own control on what was communicated from Vietnam by Australian reporters also deserved investigation. The Vietnam reporter’s essential role as an informant to the Australian public was highlighted by the deficiency of official communication and censorship.

The Role of the Vietnam Reporter With the exception of Murray, who had not fully reported the story earlier, Australian journalists had not informed the Australian public of the interrogation at Nui Dat in October 1966 until March 1968 because they claimed the information had been ‘classified’ by the Army in Vietnam. Sorell clearly argued this was the reason he did not send the story in 1966. Yet Carpay had tried to get his pictures published and Murray’s story was used by only one paper. Piper denied the claim made by Sorell and Carpay in 1968 that they were asked by military authorities in Vietnam not to print anything about the interrogation.101 Sorell claimed that no story could be written about the woman as ‘she was required for further questioning, and they did not The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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want the Vietcong to know they had captured her’.102 Ross Smith also claimed there was no censorship of the story at Nui Dat. Smith and Piper both concluded that the story was not worth writing, so it was not written.103 In 1968, when the incident was reported as alleged ‘water torture’, Murray stated that he had not been asked by military authorities in Vietnam to suppress the story. He was asked by Smith to make a statement about the interrogation to Jackson but he refused because he felt that he could not make a judgement from what he had seen.104 His account, which contained many details that were not reprinted in 1968, was published.105 In 1966 Murray was writing for AAP and his copy was therefore widely available to a number of newspapers in Australia. Few printed it. Had Australian journalists chosen to report the interrogation in more detail in 1966 they could have. In Vietnam this censorship was a matter of trust between the soldiers and the individual journalists. In all specialist areas of reporting there exists a symbiotic relationship between those who are reporting and those they report about. Journalists need the story; those that they report on in special environments, be it the political environment or in a war zone, know that they can freeze out those who do not play by rules set invisibly away from the public gaze, between the players. The danger of being excluded from interest is a mutual deterrent not to upset a working relationship. Correspondents were aware that they could be excluded from information about Australian activities by being denied access to the Australian camp. Creighton Burns, a journalist who had spent considerable years reporting from Asia and Vietnam for the Age, wrote of the danger of censorship in Vietnam. ‘In the end it is likely to damage the morale of the Australian troops in Vietnam by isolating them from the knowledge and confidence of their own community, on which they depend for psychological and material support in war and peace.’ He argued that suppression of the facts in the water torture incident at the time led to the importance of the issue of ‘troop security and morale verses conformity with the Geneva Convention’ being lost in the ‘emotionalism’ that the debate in Parliament had placed on it.106 On other occasions a personal censorship also applied to war correspondents. Sometimes it was a belief that the story could be misinterpreted in Australia by an audience untouched by the war. Although some journalists would vehemently deny self-censorship, 222


the following assertion by Major Alan Stretton was also reiterated by Pat Burgess: When you get journalists living with soldiers—living in an isolated environment right away from Canberra, they start seeing things through the eyes of the soldiers, start reporting through the eyes of your soldiers.107 When Gorton was asked who was the most important of the informants on the Vietnam War he replied that it was the journalist who was in Vietnam. ‘They were the only people, except for the soldiers, who were there.’108 The decision of Australian journalists not to publish information about the Nui Dat interrogation in Vietnam in 1966 meant that the Australian public and the government remained uninformed.

The Sex of the Prisoner A number of commentators on the story indicated the significance of the sex of the prisoner. The different attitudes expressed suggest the different intentions of the use of that information. Sorell and Murray both used the sex of the prisoner to add colour to their accounts and Sorell used it to emphasise the brutality aspect of the interrogation. Murray’s article in the Sun was headlined, ‘Aussies capture girl spy … Barefoot beauty covered in mud.’ It continued in a similar vein: The girl who sat trembling in the tent was not exactly the Mata Hari image. There were not the trappings—perfect grooming, minks and jewellery usually associated with glamorous spies. But the Vietnamese girl in the tent at Australian Force Headquarters at Nui Dat was a Communist spy. Her only concession to fashion was a pair of jade earrings to enhance her jet black hair swept up in a bun. Through the dirt and tears she was still pretty.109 The story’s overdone chauvinistic attitude highlighted a genuine problem for many Australians trying to understand the nature of the Vietnam War. One problem was to dispel a commonly held view of women as the ‘gentler sex’ or ‘defenceless sex’ and to provide The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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acceptance of the role of women in the Vietnam War as equal with their male counterparts. Many Vietnamese women were soldiers, ready to kill or be killed in defence of a cause they deemed worthy of the ultimate human sacrifice. One Australian Army warrant officer was in no doubt about the ability of Vietnamese woman to engage as soldiers. His remarks reported on the front page of the Canberra Times displayed the attitude of those who had experienced the reality of the war zone: ‘There is nothing more ruthless than a highly trained Vietcong woman’.110 A female prisoner being tortured by Australian soldiers would have been less acceptable to the Australian public than a male victim, even though the torture of either sex would have revolted many in Australia in 1968. In the parliamentary debate, Samuel Benson, Independent Member for Batman, while reminding Australians that sympathy for the woman would be misplaced, stated: ‘We, as males in this country, like to display gallantry to women no matter what race, colour or creed may be’.111 Sorell had suggested the opposite reason for the prisoner’s mistreatment. ‘She was something new, something fresh, something different’.112 Major believed that the fact that the prisoner was a woman did make a difference to the interest in the story. More importantly, he stated, if it had not been a woman the Army may not have denied it in the way they did.113 The removal of AAP reporter, Alan Ramsey, from Vietnam in 1966 for reporting the shooting of two Viet Cong, one a woman, adds weight to Major’s comment. The significance of the sex of the prisoner was also shown in the use of the incident by anti-war agitators. On the front cover of a pamphlet entitled Australian Atrocities in Vietnam, edited by Alex Carey, one of Carpay’s photographs of the prisoner being pulled along by two Australian soldiers was reproduced. On the back of the pamphlet a poem called ‘Contemporary Ethos’ used the alleged water torture incident to attack as myth the ‘Bronzed Aussie Anzac Legend’.114 So now it’s out— Our boys, our great bronzed Anzac boys, Our peerless jungle fighters Torturing a girl. A pretty girl at that! … But pouring water down her tortured throat 224


For half an hour And still she did not talk. Where are our legends now.115 In Australia many communicators on the issue were bound by their heritage and the luxury of a peace environment to produce a debate that displayed more about the ignorance of the debaters than it did about the event they sought to make clear. Of the published public response in ‘Letters to the Editor’ studied, only two letters made specific reference to the sex of the prisoner and one was in response to the first. On 12 March in a letter to the Daily Telegraph, K. G. Fulton asked why the Viet Cong ‘put thin little girls into such perilous situations where neither their age nor sex’ could save them.116 In response to this, E. Ainsworth’s letter stated that ‘undoubtedly these girls are willing volunteers in their cause’, and reminded readers that women in Europe performing similar tasks had been applauded as heroes. Ainsworth pleaded for the same recognition of the right of Vietnamese women. ‘Their deaths or torture at the hands of the occupying foreigners only increase the spirit of resistance. In Australia we owe it to the honour and to the future welfare of Australia in South East Asia to understand this.’117 The impact of photographs was particularly obvious in the coverage of the Nui Dat incident in 1966. Carpay’s photographs of the female prisoner with her captors were released continuously during the development of the coverage. In one photograph the small, unprotesting, sopping wet figure of a young woman clutching her small bag of personal possessions, while a warrant officer, who looked twice her size, stood behind adjusting a blindfold, helped to create an instant sympathy for the prisoner. Another comparison, while an unconscious one for both publisher and reader, was the depiction of this young woman, exemplifying the reality of the war environment, alongside photographs of beauty queen contestants and models wearing the new mini-skirts, which pervaded Australian newspapers in the late 1960s. The juxtaposition between the two worlds illustrated the gulf between the experiences of those in Vietnam and those in Australia. The Viet Cong prisoner stood in stark contrast to the projected (equally sexist) Western image of the seemingly carefree, fashion-conscious, young women of a similar age.118 The resultant perception of reporting that The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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produced public sympathy for one Viet Cong and public hostility towards at least one Australian soldier did not reflect an anti-war press. The use of newspaper revelations by some anti-war agitators conveyed the difficulty for the press of avoiding the charge of lowering troop morale.

The Vietnam Reporters Defend the Australian Soldiers The following remarks were made in a letter to the editor, signed ‘Serving Soldier’ and printed in the SMH on 13 March 1968: I’d like to comment on this torture rubbish. What a song and dance about a trivial incident. So long as we fight the war the way the journalists want it, all will be well.119 The final statement represented a belief, particularly prevalent among the Australian military, that the press was denigrating the image of Australian soldiers in Vietnam. However, there are few printed comments attributed to Australian journalists to support this perception. Certainly the press printed material, as well as reported comments from individuals and groups, who were disparaging about alleged methods used by Australian troops in Vietnam. Ironically, the alleged water torture incident provided an opportunity for some journalists to publicly support Australian soldiers in Vietnam at a time when public interest may have assured the printing and reading of their copy. The reporters who had consistently reported the war, and had been associated with Australian troops in Vietnam, defended the soldiers. The publication of their views indicated an attempt by Australian newspapers to balance the effect of reports damaging to morale of Australian troops in Vietnam. Warner, a veteran correspondent of three wars, wrote that the Australian troops had a reputation for professional caution but not for torture or terror. He had never seen Australian soldiers torture or ill-treat Viet Cong prisoners. He went on to acknowledge that his work in Vietnam was not often with Australian troops, and that no doubt cases of brutality did occur but he had not even heard of any. ‘Such things have wide currency by word of mouth, however, and if the Australians were generally brutal, this would be widely known.’120 Under different headings, Warner’s article, written from Saigon where he was reporting from what were to become two of the more 226


significant battles of the war, Hue and Khe Sanh, was printed in the Advertiser, Courier-Mail, West Australian and Herald.121 The Advertiser published his copy on page one, but continued on page two with the publication of an extensive article containing similar statements from Vietnam reporters, significantly entitled ‘Writers defend Australians’.122 The published praise for the methods and kindliness of Australian troops continued. Ross Mark, Washington correspondent for the London Daily Express, claimed that Australian troops were kinder than was completely necessary. One Viet Cong he had seen wounded in action was given the ‘sort of medical attention and helicopter evacuation that Australian wounded received. It was prompt, expert and kind.’123 In the same article Don Piperon, an Australian journalist reporting from America, who had gone with the troops in mid-1965 to Vietnam, reiterated confidence in the professional behaviour of Australian troops in Vietnam. On 16 March the Advertiser printed another supportive article. Garry Barker, writing from his base in Singapore, concluded that Russ, ‘former marine turned author, does not seem to have learnt much from his contact with Australian jungle troops in Vietnam’.124 His article was embellished with a photograph of a smiling Australian soldier holding a baby above his head and the framing intent was obvious from the caption: In South Vietnam the Australian soldiers have the reputation of being easy to get along with. Here is one of them with a little Vietnamese friend.125 Pat Burgess was reporting from the north of South Vietnam with American and Vietnamese troops when the water torture allegations were reported in Australia. Fairfax editors contacted him in Vietnam asking for information on the incident. His defence of Australian troops was published in the Sun Herald on 10 March. Burgess claimed to have never heard of the water torture allegations and he did not believe that they were worth the panic and urgent demands in the cables.126 Having covered many operations with Australian troops in Vietnam, Burgess cabled back his absolute faith in the conduct of Australian soldiers, writing ‘At no time’ had he seen ‘an Australian illtreat a prisoner’. For Burgess, 1966 had been memorable for other reasons: The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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1966 was the year … the 173rd Airborne had taken terrible causalities, where the wounded could not be got out at a hill near Dak To. It was the year when napalm and even worse, Willy Peter—white phosphorous—fell on a thousand hamlets and villages in the north of South Vietnam. It was the year in which the first Australian national serviceman, the first soldier whose birthday date had dropped from the barrel like a Lotto ball, died in combat, the first of many of the 500 dead. An allegation of torture, even clumsily done and not completed, did not seem very important.127 The publishing of comment in newspapers from Australian reporters in Vietnam displayed more than an attempt to support Australian soldiers. It exemplified the attitude of Australian war and foreign reporters, who had reported for lengthy periods from Vietnam and developed a close association with the military there. Most reports from such journalists framed a supportive image for Australian efforts in Vietnam.

The Parliamentary Debate The debate in the House of Representatives took place on the evening of 14 March. As the first autumn session began, Gorton faced his first test as the new Liberal Prime Minister. His new Minister for the Army had placed him in an unenviable position. Lynch preceded Gorton with his Ministerial Statement. The statement had been prepared for him by Peter Lawlor and other public servants. When he stood to read it, he was not even in receipt of the entire speech, which was delivered in pages as he read. He did not write it nor had he read it in final form until he stood on the floor of the chamber presenting it. He was justifiably nervous.128 In his statement Lynch claimed that the investigation that had taken place in Vietnam in October 1966 confirmed that the Sorell’s newspaper report was ‘substantially true’.129 As a result of this finding Lynch announced that there would be no inquiry. Lynch indicated that the interrogating officer had acted in a manner ‘contrary to the Geneva Convention and the issued Army instructions’. After a slightly more detailed account Lynch summarised the position by stating that ‘the interrogator did no more than shout at the woman, bang the table, use threats and proceed to pour some water down the woman’s throat’.130 228


If Sorell’s account was sensationalised, politicians chose not to indicate if or how it was. The Minister for Defence, Malcolm Fraser, confirmed Lynch’s remarks: We know what happened during the interrogation. The statements made by John Sorell have been substantiated in large measure, if not completely. This is accepted.131 Lynch’s admission again placed the water torture issue on the front page of every Australian daily except the Herald. It is significant, though not explicable, that the Herald had highlighted reports on the issue repeatedly on page one, and had been responsible for the first publication of Sorell’s account, yet did not report the parliamentary debate that essentially vindicated their interest in the story. Instead, the Herald published a long editorial as its concluding report on the issue.132 The Herald regarded the reasons given by the Government for refusing to hold an inquiry as inadequate.133 Two other major points in the editorial were criticism of Gorton for playing down the torture of the prisoner to a point of virtually condoning it, and reference made to the emphasis Lynch had placed on the battle of Long Tan to excuse the behaviour of the warrant officer: The Government stressed that 18 Australian soldiers had been killed and 21 wounded just before the capture of a woman alleged to have been observing the Australian base … Feelings run high in a battle zone. In any event it was not being asserted that cruel, brutal, or degrading practices are widespread among our forces.134 Still deeming the defence of Australian troops necessary in its comment, the editorial chose to repeat the context Lynch had used to explain the incident at Nui Dat. Both this explanation and Gorton’s attitude to the Geneva Conventions deserve investigation.

The Battle of Long Tan: An Acceptable Explanation? Lynch attempted to excuse the warrant officer’s behaviour by placing the incident in the context of the battle of Long Tan where eighteen Australians had been killed and twenty-one wounded in August 1966. According to Lynch, Australians had been harassed and their lives The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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endangered by a Viet Cong spy who had been observing their camp and patrols and reporting on them by radio transceiver. On 24 October, an Australian patrol had found the woman hiding with a radio transceiver in a well-concealed tunnel. ‘This woman,’ claimed Lynch, ‘was the spy of whom I have spoken’.135 Lynch did not remind his audience that the battle had taken place earlier, on 18 August 1966. No one questioned the discrepancy between these comments by Lynch and the information given in Murray’s account in the Sun in November 1966, where he had written that the woman had been ‘living in the hills for 10 days with the Communist band’. The article reported the warrant officer who carried out the interrogation as saying that ‘although she was found with the radio she did not seem to be a radio operator’.136 Prime Minister John Gorton, when asked about the discrepancy in 1984, claimed that as far as he had known she was the operator.137 Fairhall was the only politician to refer to Murray’s article to justify the Government’s dismissal of the prisoner as a spy. He ignored the rest of the article which, if true, would have destroyed the Government’s line of debate. All sources conveyed the assumption that the woman was a radio operator. This is as justifiable as it is convenient. It is doubtful if she was not the operator that the politicians responsible would have dared to have taken the line they did in Parliament, knowing that the incident had not been fully retained within controllable records because of the presence of the press at the interrogation in 1966.138 The attempts by Lynch and other politicians to raise public sympathy by relating the event to Australia’s recent tragic battle at Long Tan displayed the unwillingness of those in authority to try and place the day-to-day operations of the Australian Task Force in their proper perspective. The Government spokesmen, in this public interest debate, continued the myth that horror, hardship and heroism could only be established in terms of ‘body count’. Major Robert O’Neill was one who criticised the lack of public appreciation in Australia for the activities of Australian soldiers in Vietnam. According to O’Neill, one of the ‘less obvious’ but certainly the most powerful factors which influenced the public interpretation of Australian activities in Vietnam had been that ‘most commentators, observers, soldiers and members of the public at large have become battle orientated, perhaps as a result of the conditioning induced by two world wars in the past two generations’.139 230


There had been few public references to the capture of a female prisoner in 1966 until it became a front-page story in March 1968. In the 6th Battalion’s Pictorial History of its tour in Vietnam, in a chapter highlighting the importance and frustration of close patrolling, the editors chose the mission by B Company during 2–27 October 1966 to illustrate their point. The concluding paragraph stated: ‘During the search of the camp, a female Viet Cong was discovered in a tunnel and detained. More importantly, a radio set was found and its capture must have hampered the enemy’s communication system.’140 It is not significant that this reference was made in the Battalion history as almost all operations are briefly summarised in such accounts. However, it is worth noting that the editor regarded the mission in which the capture occurred as one of two examples given to highlight the value and danger of close patrol missions. The emphasis on the radio set rather than the prisoner is an interesting emphasis given the later public significance of the incident, where the relative importance of both was reversed. The operations that the task force was involved in during October 1966 were dangerous and a number of Australian soldiers lost their lives in separate incidents related to the clearing of the tunnel systems on the hills around Nui Dat.141 The Government’s use of the battle of Long Tan to evoke sympathy, while it may have been effective and timely, suggested a lack of appreciation of the hell that for sustained periods on occasion was the lot of many Australian soldiers in Vietnam. Either that, or they had little faith in the Australian public’s ability to grasp the dangers faced by Australian soldiers in Vietnam unless they could be described in terms of heavy Australian casualties. Although report on the parliamentary debate in the Advertiser did mention the reference to Long Tan, other newspapers reported it in their virtually verbatim accounts of Lynch’s speech. For example, political reporter Allan Barnes wrote that Lynch ‘said that at the time of the incident 18 Australians had been killed and 21 wounded in action at Long Tan, in Vietnam’. A small but significant heading ‘Endangered’ followed as the report went on to cite the harassment of Australian troops at the time as Lynch had claimed. For the unaware reader of the Age the words ‘at the time’ conveyed a less-than-honest, although Government-intended, explanation for the harsh treatment of the prisoner. The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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Alan Reid, then a recognised doyen of the Canberra Press Gallery, would have had more expertise than many among the Australian public to be sceptical about material used in parliamentary debates. His report indicated acceptance, or as a recognised political player himself, at least a willingness to reinforce Lynch’s use of the link between Long Tan and the capture of the female prisoner: Gorton could have excused, without justifying by pointing out that the Australian interrogator was only human and that he had recently seen in the area where the woman was captured eighteen of his comrades killed and twenty-one wounded.142 It is noteworthy that the paper Reid wrote for, the Daily Telegraph, used the battle of Long Tan to excuse the action of the warrant officer. ‘Let us remember,’ the editorial reminded readers, ‘that the Australian troops concerned had just emerged from their bloodiest encounter of the campaign, leaving eighteen young Australians dead and many wounded’.143

Breaking the Geneva Conventions Lynch’s report to the Parliament raised many questions, not least, the casual dismissal of the breaking of the Geneva Conventions to which Australia had become party in 1959. This lack of respect was reinforced by the Prime Minister. Initially Lynch attempted to prove that the Geneva Conventions did not apply in the case as the woman was probably a civilian. He added that the Australian Government did seek to apply the Geneva Conventions, however, even to civilians. Australian forces were conscious of the need to pursue their military aims in Vietnam within the bounds of the Geneva Conventions for moral and political reasons, as well as a potential safeguard if they themselves became prisoners. An American soldier explained the reality of the situation for a prisoner of war, when captured by the enemy in the Vietnam War, when interrogation began. ‘I knew this moment was coming. I had been trained in survival school and was well versed in the Code of Conduct. I was to answer only four questions.’ Having answered questions about name, rank and serial number, and date of birth, Howard Rutledge refused to answer further, citing the Geneva 232


Conventions of 1949. ‘The Vietnamese officer replied calmly and quietly, “You are not a prisoner of war …Your government has not declared war upon the Vietnamese people. You are protected by no international law.” ’ When the American refused to answer further the interrogator leaned towards him and said, ‘Commander Rutledge, you are a criminal, guilty of high crimes against the Vietnamese people. If you do not answer my questions you will be severely punished.’144 The existence of the Geneva Conventions, and the willingness of nations to sign such agreements, do not represent, it would appear, a signed consent to abide explicitly by its rules. A slight bending or breaking as conditions and circumstance dictate is accepted by those who fight under its code. They may not always abide by that code; they are not under any illusions that the code will be strictly applied to them if captured. Perhaps the fear of losing international support for either side in a conflict allows for some adherence to the code— the only hope, at times, a prisoner of war has. Politicians can have personal views on matters affecting Australian policy but they are bound by party restrictions, and more importantly, their position on occasion as spokespersons for the Australian people, to publicly adhere to the rules and conventions that govern the country. The reporting of the parliamentary debate on the alleged water torture incident produced a picture of politicians who had little respect for international agreements to which Australia was party. Gorton admitted that the spirit of the Geneva Agreement had been exceeded. He claimed that the Geneva Conventions were unrealistic in that interrogators are not allowed to raise their voice to prisoners. They are not allowed to ask more than name, rank and number, or to intimidate in any way. As Australia’s Prime Minister, Gorton’s continuation of this line of argument took him into dangerous morale territory, something that journalists were quick to identify: If the worst that happened to Australian soldiers was that somebody banged on the table, raised his voice and poured one cup of water down their throats then we would not have very much to complain of.145 The Prime Minister claimed that the Geneva Conventions had been broken, not as the result of calm legal discussion, but in the The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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atmosphere of war where Australian lives had been endangered. He concluded by stating that the woman had walked from the tent, and in response to an interjection admitted, ‘Yes, a little wet’.146 A quick, thoughtless response was as damaging for Gorton as the word ‘scintilla’ had been for Lynch. The phrase was memorable, short and pithy. Sir Thomas Daly regarded Gorton’s impromptu speech as one of the best Gorton ever gave in Parliament, and ‘his final thing, “a little bit wet”, underplaying it a bit, but it really brought the whole thing back into perspective’.147 Major also believed the Prime Minister’s performance was praiseworthy. Gorton had ‘made the whole thing into a bit of a joke’.148 Others less personally affected by the water torture allegations were not so impressed. Graham Freudenberg claimed that Gorton had adopted ‘a tone patronizing to the parliament and perfunctory in its handling of the issues involved. It was less than a Prime Minister’s performance.’149 Even taking into account Freudenberg’s loyalty to a different political persuasion than Gorton, his point encapsulates the essential aspect of the way journalists chose to report and interpret the words of Lynch and Gorton in the parliamentary debate. Gorton and Lynch were both denigrated by the press because neither had the right to present anything other than an acceptable image for national and international consumption. The condoning of the breaking of the Geneva Conventions left the Australian Government open to the charge that they lacked respect for an international treaty to which they were party. ‘It was so unserious,’ claimed Gorton. ‘What was needed was just the facts put before the population.’150 The press reports were a sharp reminder to the Prime Minister that on this issue journalists had defined his role as spokesperson for the Australian people, rather than as spokesperson to the Australian people. The daily newspapers concentrated their reports of the debate on the comments of Lynch and Gorton. Quotations in most reports highlighted the Government’s lack of respect for the Geneva Conventions. As Ian Fitchett, political correspondent for the SMH, pointed out, Gorton’s determination to present himself as a frank and open Prime Minister over the whole affair led him into ‘deeper trouble’.151 Editorials varied in their support for the Government response to the incident, but those that commented on the Government’s response to the breaking of the Geneva Conventions, condemned it.152 The SMH claimed that neither Lynch nor Gorton 234


gained any credit in the handling of the incident. The SMH surmised that most readers would have been shocked by Lynch’s approach and Gorton’s endorsement of it. ‘Not only did Mr Lynch try to minimise the seriousness of what was done to this woman by an Australian interrogating officer,’ asserted the editorial, ‘he also, by the heavy stress he laid on her dangerous activities, gave the appearance of condoning it’. Evan Williams wrote in an article on the same page: ‘Parliament had to wait three days before Mr Gorton went over the top. He went bravely into action last night, it was not so much a baptism of fire as an ordeal by water’.153 The paper demanded an open inquiry into the incident to clear ‘the good name and wellbeing of the Army. Failure to conduct an inquiry was a national and international admission of fear.’154 The Age editorial commented on the unacceptable approach of the Government to the incident as a ‘deplorable’ one, but ‘excusable’. It continued its demand for an open inquiry. It questioned, because of the fortuitous circumstances by which the Government and public became aware of the incident, the communication between Government and department and the need to rectify obvious difficulties. The apparent condoning of a breach of the Geneva Conventions was deemed ‘appalling’: The government’s approach does not enhance the reputation of the Australian soldier, it creates a feeling that we do not adequately prize our national honour.155 Politicians were reminded in the editorials of the need for an open inquiry, and that national honour was regarded by the press as a vital issue before Lynch produced his parliamentary statement. Lynch and Gorton’s approach indicated a different priority. They chose to adopt an approach, as they determined their comments, supportive of the other major press concern, the defence of the Australian soldier in Vietnam. The press who chose to criticise the stance of both in the parliamentary debate saw clearly that such defence could not be achieved by a Prime Minister and a Minister for the Army who defended by accentuating a lack of respect for the Geneva Conventions under which those soldiers fought. Some editorials showed clear insight into the larger issues that the Government, through a superficial response, had failed to acknowledge, and even worse, to appreciate. The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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Politicians and Press Coverage The sensationalism evident in the reporting of the Nui Dat incident after the initial release of the story, owed much to politicians themselves, on both sides of Parliament. While the Mercury believed that an inquiry should still be held, it concentrated its attack on the political handling of the issue. The Opposition was accused of political opportunism in its attempt to point-score, with the paper claiming that the ‘Government’s bungling’ was ‘inexcusable, and has done most to magnify the affair’.156 The Canberra Times editorial acknowledged that a change of emphasis had occurred as the issue had progressed. The alleged torture at Nui Dat had become a political issue: The call for an inquiry would make public a deep confusion in the administration, a breakdown in the chain of departmental communications, an ambiguity of intentions among members of Cabinet about who speaks for whom? When incompetent and lackadaisical handling of an important issue results in acute embarrassment for the Government, such relationships (between Cabinet, advisers, and departments) become a matter of public concern.157 Papers identified the importance of the political aspects of the issue. Frank Crean, Labor Member for Melbourne Ports, asked the pertinent question succinctly during the debate. If I am misinformed, what about the people of Australia? Surely the parliament is the place in which information should be given and in which misinformation be queried.158 The public had a right to be sceptical about the picture they were receiving on an official, and unofficial level, of the Vietnam War. In interview in 1984, Gorton’s attitude remained unrepentant: ‘I handled the issue very badly … because I took it too seriously … it should have been a non-event’.159 In a sense he was right, but the issues raised were not trivial. After the incident had ceased to be news, Lynch continued to blame the press for lowering the morale of the 236


Australian troops in their reporting of the issue. In April 1968, as he left for a visit to Vietnam, he told journalists that he would question Australian troops about their ‘reaction to press reports about the treatment of prisoners’. He had not ‘frankly’ liked a lot of what he had read in the press.160 He failed to acknowledge, or perhaps even appreciate, his own role in the reporting of the incident.

A Newsworthy Precedent Debate on Australian methods in Vietnam in the water torture case followed the debate on unacceptable treatment of prisoners by Australian allies in Vietnam. The Australian example was timely with the added news value of being local. It was significant that the report of the alleged water torture came one month after the shooting in the streets of Saigon of a Viet Cong suspect by General Nguyen Ngoc Loan, head of South Vietnam’s national police. Captured on television and in photographs, the execution of the suspect in civilian clothes, without trial, horrified the world.161 The photograph of the execution was to remain one of the most published of all images from the Vietnam War.162 Lawyers debated in the Australian press the rights of civilians and prisoners in a war zone and ‘Letters to the Editor’ columns suggested the moral outrage of members of the Australian public. In one letter the writer begged that the Australian people might be assured that Australian troops were operating on ‘explicit orders not to treat the enemy wounded or prisoners in the way they are treated by American and South Vietnamese Government troops’.163

A Case for Comparison On 21 February 1968 the Australian’s page one published comments made by Lieutenant Colonel N. C. Charlesworth, commander of 2nd Battalion, RAR, in Vietnam. He stated that Australian methods were too soft to achieve successful pacification of villagers in Vietnam. The trouble is we think like Australians. We are tolerant to a sometimes absurd extent. These people are Asians. They think differently and react differently to Australians … I don’t think we should go around burning down their homes, but I’ve got the feeling these bastards are laughing at us behind our backs.164 The ‘Water Torture Incident’

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An Australian soldier had just been killed in a cordon-and-search operation at Hoa Long. Lynch’s predecessor as Minister for the Army, Malcolm Fraser, displayed his experience and political acumen when he refused to comment on the incident until he had had the report investigated. An editorial on 26 February 1968 in the Australian entitled, ‘The right approach’ supported Fraser’s handling of the issue.165 The editorial claimed that its front-page story had left Fraser with several options. He could have ‘denied the story outright’, or claimed that Colonel Charlesworth was ‘misquoted’ or claimed that he had been quoted ‘out of context’. Fraser did none of these. Reportedly, he checked the story in Saigon where it was confirmed. He called a meeting of Australia’s Joint Chiefs of Staff and discussed the matter. He did not announce his decision through a pigeonholed press release. Inviting journalists to his home, he told them that the colonel’s words were understandable in the circumstances and no action would be taken against him. The editorial found Fraser’s behaviour ‘highly commendable … He acted promptly and judiciously, then quickly conveyed to the public the facts and his decisions on them. This was the type of approach the public deserves but so rarely gets from federal ministers.’166 Lynch became Minister for the Army on 28 February. Fraser’s handling of a potentially explosive story was in sharp contrast to Lynch’s handling of Russ’s allegations a week later. Lynch’s conclusion on the importance of the water torture issue exemplified one of the problems for some politicians of divorcing personal aspirations from matters of national concern. In an interview with Claudia Wright of the Herald on 5 April, Lynch admitted that he had been nervous when he walked into the House of Representatives to deliver his speech on the alleged torture incident. Lynch’s assessment shows how the press spotlight has multiple value and interpretation of worth for those being reported: The press clippings show an impressive performance in that I came in new and untried and because of that case I’m now completely known throughout the community.167 The different approaches taken by Fraser and Lynch indicate that both were conscious of the press and its potential. In the two incidents discussed, they perceived that potential in different ways.

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User and Used: The Coalescing of News Values and Political Appreciation of Them Examination of the reporting of the interrogation incident exemplifies the complex factors that produce newspaper copy. Decisions on what and when to report particular information are not made in isolation. In the reporting of the alleged water torture case a coalescing of key news values ensured ongoing newspaper interest. Prominence of source, represented in the involvement first of the Minister for the Army and then the Prime Minister, as well as first-hand contradictory accounts that created conflict between the key sources of interest, were factors. Human interest and timeliness were also major components in the story’s attraction. The reporting of the incident involved local and international contexts. It also illustrated the significance of specialist reporters and how interpretations of what is a newsworthy report from a war zone, and what from Parliament House, can lead to confusing public communication when they collide. Front-page news exposed the weaknesses and strengths of the symbiotic relationship in both reporting contexts. Journalists represent only one facet of the communication process that produces public information. In publishing, the press highlights aspects of information fed to it by others within the communication system, or information that it has obtained, often from unwilling communicants. During the years of Australia’s military involvement, Vietnam as the war zone was a vital component of the information fed to the public about Australian involvement. As seen in the reporting of the interrogation in 1966, the military and the press in Vietnam were at times more closely allied to one another than to their counterparts in Australia. Public relations played a role in determining press coverage in Vietnam in 1966 and in Canberra in 1968. Smith had asked the journalists to the interrogation of the prisoner at Nui Dat in 1966. Lynch had highlighted his public relations exercise with drinks at Russell Hill after his television interview. The press reacted to Lynch’s comments, Sorell’s disclosure, the inquiry debate, and the parliamentary debate, and in so doing they were only partly responsible for the coverage that developed. In another sense they were totally responsible. It was the intrinsic nature of the press and the perceived role of the press in communicating to the Australian public that led to Lynch’s,


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or maybe Major’s, ‘first mistake’. Politicians do not attempt to score points in a political vacuum. The line extended between politician and press is both a lifeline and a hangman’s noose. Politicians sought public support through press coverage of the water torture debate. All those contributing to the public debate were aware of the moral issues involved. Neither press nor politicians were willing to intentionally publicly devalue the traditional view of the Australian soldier. Sorell’s decision in Vietnam not to publish the known details of the harsh treatment of the prisoner in 1966 can be seen as recognition of the same power as that which led Lynch to deny Russ’s claims—the recognition of the power of the press to produce a particular type of image. It also indicated a perception on the part of both about the kind of image with which the Australian public was comfortable. The difficulty for the press in reporting an issue involving morality was indicated by its coverage. The same problem had been faced by politicians attempting to debate the issue of torture. Piper had stopped the soldier pouring water down the prisoner’s throat because, beside the practical considerations, there was the ‘moral’ issue. There were therefore certain consistencies in the deliberations of a number of those responsible for the creation of news on the water torture incident. There was a determination by all, an essentially national patriotic underpinning, not to besmirch the image of the ‘digger’, while retaining appreciation of the public demand for an appropriate national image of Australian integrity. The military and press in Vietnam, and departments and politicians in Canberra, through individual choices to disclose or not the information each had, created public misinformation and confused messages in newspapers about what happened and why. The coverage of the incident exposed serious political ineptitude in the public communication of an acceptable national image. In seeking to deepen levels of positive response from the community towards themselves and the war effort, politicians ended up creating a very negative coverage of themselves and the personal motivations they revealed. That reporting played a valuable public service in that it also exposed the weaknesses in the information flow to the public from those in whom it had a right to trust as key communicators of Australian participation in the war and the values that would sustain public support for that involvement.

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Notes 1

2

3 4

5 6

7 8 9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

19 20 21 22 23

24 25 26 27 28

29

McNeill, To Long Tan, p. 398. According to McNeill, ‘more publicity was given to the incident than the battle of Long Tan’. Unfortunately he fails to state if this was at the time of both incidents, the publicity that followed through the years, or both. ibid., p. 567, footnote 63. McNeill’s account goes to unusual lengths to describe the prisoner. From an interview with the soldier to whom the prisoner was tied overnight McNeill recounts: ‘Well composed and defiant, she showed no sign of fear. As they waited a snake slithered past. O’Halloran recoiled but the woman remained unmoved.’ (p. 369). Burstall, ‘Blind justice: A torture victim remembers’, SMH, 5 May 1990. Burstall, A Soldier Returns: A Long Tan Veteran Discovers the Other Side of Vietnam, pp. 159–66. This is Burstall’s interview with To Thi Nau, the female prisoner captured by Australians on 24 October 1966. Sir Thomas Daly, Interview with author. Russ, Happy Hunting Ground: An Ex-Marine’s Odyssey in Vietnam. Russ had been a United States marine in Korea and had written a book on his experiences there. In 1966 he had spent six weeks with Australian troops in Phuoc Tuy province. SMH, 8 March 1968. ibid. In the book John Sorell was called ‘Jack Mosely’. ibid. Alan Ramsey, ‘Who is telling lies? There’s a nasty smell abut this torture affair in Vietnam’, Australian, 11 March 1968. W. Brown, Courier-Mail, 2 March 1968, ‘This Week in Canberra’, p. 2 Burgess, Warco: Australian Reporters at War, p. 155. W. Major, Interview with author. ibid. ‘Against the rules’, SMH, 9 March 1968, editorial, p. 2. Sir Thomas Daly, Interview with author. W. Major, Interview with author. ibid. ibid. ‘Book accuses diggers of cowardice and torture in Vietnam. Minister denies Army brutality. No foundation for American charges, says Lynch,’ Australian, 8 March 1968, p. 1 lead. ibid. ibid. See also ‘Brutality by troops is denied’, SMH, 8 March 1968, p. 4 W. Major, Interview with author. ibid. Interrogation in Vietnam, Ministerial Statement, CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, p. 154. W. Major, Interview with author. Burgess, Warco, p. 162. W. Major, Interview with author. ibid. ‘Brutality of troops is denied’, SMH, 8 March 1968, p. 4; ‘Troops not cowards’, Advertiser, 8 March 1968, p. 13; ‘Minister rejects slur on soldiers, Daily Telegraph, 8 March 1968, p. 8. Canberra Times, 8 March 1968.


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30 31 32

33 34 35 36

37 38 39 40

41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48

49

50 51 52

Australian, 8 March 1968. J. Sorell, ‘I saw digger torture girl’, Herald, 8 March 1968, p. 1 lead. ‘Water torture’ was a method used in Vietnam by the Vietnamese to gain information. It was a harsh torture involving large amounts of water being forced quickly down the throat of the victim, who was then jumped on. The torture had been used in World War II by the Japanese in Burma. No doubt the confusion about the degree of severity of the interrogation stemmed from the connotations for those who had some understanding of the meaning of the torture in other contexts. Sir John Gorton, Prime Minister, 1968–71, described his understanding of the water torture as a World War II veteran and stated that the female prisoner certainly was not water-tortured as he understood the term (John Gorton, Interview with author). The use of the pannikin to pour water into the prisoner’s mouth no doubt suggested to the woman what might have been going to happen. ‘I saw digger torture girl’, Herald, 8 March 1968, p. 1 lead. Australian, 9 March 1968; see also Daily Telegraph, 12 March 1968. Australian, 9 March 1968. Burgess, Warco, p. 155. Horst Faas, a very experienced Vietnam reporter, was in charge of American Associated Press Picture. When Burgess showed him the pictures he responded that they were ‘very sharp pictures. But what they mean? Huh? A little bit of water don’t seem too much to get information, not in this war.’(p. 155) While he thought the photographs were ‘sharp’, he was not particularly interested in them. Canberra Times, 12 March 1968. ibid. Canberra Times, 11 March 1968. Murray’s earlier account is discussed under the heading ‘The Sex of the Prisoner’ later in this chapter. Sunday Telegraph, 10 March 1968. ibid. Canberra Times, 11 March 1968. Herald, 9 March 1968. Age, 11 March 1968, p. 3. Australian, 9 March 1968. ibid. For example, Don Piperon, ‘Just an ordinary incident’, Courier-Mail, p. 1; Don Piperon, ‘Author stands by “brutality claim’’ ’, Advertiser. (Note that the stories were slightly different in each paper even though they came from the same author. The Advertiser was totally owned by the Herald and Weekly Times and the Courier-Mail was partly owned by the same publisher.) ‘Diggers—“a coarse version of pommies’’ ’, Canberra Times. Courier-Mail, 9 March 1968. The Courier-Mail used the word ‘brutality’ in its headline and not once in the text of its report did it use the word ‘torture’. This information was published in the Age, 11 March 1968. Canberra Times, 11 March 1968. Torture allegation’, West Australian, 12 March 1968, editorial; ‘A reputation at stake’, Canberra Times, 11 March 1968, editorial; ‘Allegations of torture’, Advertiser, 11 March 1968, editorial; ‘The torture charges’, Age, 11 March

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53

54 55

56 57 58

59 60 61

62 63 64

65

66 67

68

69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78

1968, editorial; ‘Against the rules’, SMH, 9 March 1968, editorial; ‘Probe must be public’, Herald, 11 March 1968; ‘No secrecy’, Daily Telegraph, 12 March 1968, editorial. ‘No secrecy’, Daily Telegraph, 12 March 1968, editorial, p. 2. The prior incidents referred to were the inquiry into a fatal boating accident involving Navy personnel off the Queensland coast; the accidental holing by shellfire of the destroyer Anzac off the NSW coast; the controversy over the use of VIP planes. SMH, 9 March 1968. ‘No case for secrecy’, SMH, 12 March 1968, editorial, p. 2. See also ‘No secrecy’, Daily Telegraph, 12 March 1968, editorial, p. 2—‘Already the glare of publicity in this case has built it to tremendous proportions … The torture hearing must be open to the Press.’ ‘The torture charges’, Age, 11 March 1968, editorial. ‘Torture in Vietnam’, Mercury, 12 March 1968, editorial. ‘Allegations of torture’, Advertiser, 11 March 1968, editorial. The ‘infliction of severe bodily pain’ which was part of the editorial’s definition is identical to that given in The Australian Pocket Oxford Dictionary, Oxford University Press, 1985. ‘Allegations of torture’, Advertiser, 11 March 1968, editorial. ibid. ibid. See also ‘Torture allegation’, West Australian, 12 March 1968, editorial, p. 2. ‘The torture charges’, Age, 11 March 1968, editorial. ‘A reputation at stake’, Canberra Times, 11 March 1968, editorial. See, for example, Courier-Mail, SMH, Advertiser, all on 14 March 1968. The report on the demand appeared at the end of an article on the discovery of a film, taken by Istiaq Ahmad, of aspects of the incident at Nui Dat in 1966. He denied the allegations of torture. ‘Fly torture case girl to probe Labor’s demand’, Herald, 13 March 1968, p. 1 lead. ‘Make water torture inquiry open’, Herald, 13 March 1968, editorial, p. 2 ‘Open inquiry’, SMH, 14 March 1968, editorial. The Daily Telegraph was to use the information when concluding on the incident, 15 March 1968. When the Herald used Whitlam’s demand for its lead, the Cabinet decision had not been made. Courier-Mail 14 March 1968; SMH, 14 March 1968. Advertiser, 9 March 1968. Australian, 11 March 1968. W. Major, Interview with author. Australian, 11 March 1968. W. Major, Interview with author; Sir Thomas Daly, Interview with author. W. Major, Interview with author. ‘No case for secrecy’, SMH, 12 March 1968, editorial. A. Piper, Interview with author. CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, p. 167. Allen Fairhall, Minister for Defence in 1968, in the 14 March 1968 parliamentary debate on the interrogation, paid attention to explaining the hazardous terrain for helicopters and the


243

79

80 81 82

83 84

85 86 87

88 89

90

91 92

impossibility of removing the prisoner earlier. He had flown over the area one week after the incident. A. Piper, Interview with author. The woman had been ill during the flight and Piper claimed that she would certainly have been aware of the stories that prisoners were thrown out of helicopters. It was her first flight in one. SMH, 8 March 1968. Canberra Times, 11 and 16 March 1968. Piper had been trained in Australia as staff officer to Major General Vincent, who was to have commanded the Australian Task Force in 1966 in Vietnam. It was decided to appoint Brigadier Jackson instead and when Piper arrived in Vietnam with the men he had trained, Brigadier Jackson informed him that he had chosen his own staff officer. Piper was sent to work with the American 173 Airborne at Bien Hoa. After the battle of Long Tan, where an absence of intelligence officers due to illness had meant that the Australian soldiers were not as prepared for contact with the enemy as they might have been, a replacement intelligence officer was required. In the absence of that replacement it was suggested that Piper be given the position, which would allow him to return earlier than expected to Australian Staff Headquarters. Thus Piper returned, if not to the job he was trained to, at least to the men and the Australian military force he initially went to serve. His position was adviser to the Task Force Commander, Brigadier Jackson, on intelligence matters. He had no command responsibilities, ‘just a staff responsibility’. (A. Piper, Interview with author) The name of the officer is supplied in McNeill, To Long Tan, p. 397. Piper claimed that in this case the guard was not needed but his presence was customary. (A. Piper, Interview with author) ibid. Sun (Sydney), 14 November 1966. Ross Smith later claimed that he believed ‘the warrant officer from Intelligence did what he did from bravado. What he had was an audience of press and he was showing off. He was slamming the table and yelling. But I think it was for the benefit of the press at the door. At the time it didn’t seem like much.’ (Burgess, Warco, p. 162) A. Piper, Interview with author. Not ‘if’ but ‘how far’, is a significant admission by Piper, although hardly a revelation in the discussion of the conduct of the war. Sir Thomas Daly, Interview with author. Commander Gardiner M. Haight, United States Navy, in a discussion paper on the application of the Geneva Conventions in Vietnam wrote: ‘Part of the frustration that results in trying to apply the Geneva Convention in Vietnam, or in any war, was captured in the remark of Rabbi Eli A. Bohnen, President of the Rabbinical assembly, when he said: “When we make rules for war we pretend that knights in armor are still jousting with lances. We talk as if it is a football game.” ’Commander G. M. Haight, US Navy, ‘The Geneva Convention in the Shadow War’, Proceedings: U.S. Naval Institute CPL121 (Annapolis, MA), September 1968, p. 46. A. Piper, Interview with author. ibid.

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93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103

104 105

106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114

115 116

117

118 119 120 121

122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132

ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid. CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, pp. 154–5. ibid., p. 167. ibid., 28 March 1968, p. 595. Canberra Times, 29 March 1968. A. Piper, Interview with author. SMH, 8 March 1968. A. Piper, Interview with author. For Ross Smith’s account, see Burgess, Warco, p. 162. Sunday Telegraph, 10 March 1968. Details included, for example, that the girl came from the village of Hoa Long; seven of her colleagues, including another woman, had escaped; the girl had been in the hills for about ten days when she was captured. C. Burns, ‘What should the public be told?’, Age, 16 March 1968. A. Stretton, Interview with author. Sir J. Gorton, Interview with author. Sun, 14 November 1966. Canberra Times, 13 March 1968. CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, p. 184. Canberra Times, 11 March 1968. W. Major, Interview with author. Carey, Australian atrocities in Vietnam, p. 20. Alec Carey was a lecturer in Social and Applied Sciences at the University of New South Wales and a well-known activist against the Vietnam War. ibid. K. G. Fulton, Wentworthville, Daily Telegraph, 12 March 1968, ‘Letters to the Editor’. E. Ainsworth, Ashfield, Daily Telegraph, 14 March 1968, ‘Letters to the Editor’. See, for example, Herald, 13 March 1968, p. 1. SMH, 13 March 1968. Herald, 11 March 1968. Advertiser, 11 March 1968; Courier-Mail, 11 March 1968; Herald, 11 March 1968; West Australian, 14 March 1968. Advertiser, 11 March 1968. ibid. Advertiser, 16 March 1968. ibid. Burgess, Warco, p. 155. Sun Herald, 10 March 1968. W. Major, Interview with author. CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, p. 153. ibid., 14 March 1968, pp. 154–5. ibid., p. 181. ‘Torture is intolerable’, Herald, 15 March 1968, editorial.


245

133

134 135 136 137 138

139 140

141

142 143 144

145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152

153

154 155 156 157 158 159 160

Lynch had stated that there would be no inquiry because ‘the investigation on the spot had in fact confirmed that the newspaper report was substantially true. There is therefore, no need for a court of inquiry to inquire whether it was true, and there therefore will be no court of inquiry.’ (CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, p. 155) ‘Torture is intolerable’, Herald, 15 March 1968, editorial. ibid. (Sydney) Sun, 14 November 1966. Sir J. Gorton, Interview with author. Piper claimed that she was the radio operator. (A. Piper, Interview with author) O’Neill, ‘Australian Military Problems in Vietnam’, p. 46. Williams, Captain Ian McLean, Vietnam: A Pictorial History of the Sixth Battalion, The Royal Australian Regiment 1966–1967, p. 86. Robert O’Neill, who served in Vietnam in 1966–67, described well the dangers of the types of operations carried out in October 1966 and possible imminence of death for each soldier involved. (O’Neill, Vietnam Task: The 5th Battalion, The Royal Australian Regiment) Reid, The Gorton Experiment: The Fall of John Grey Gorton, p. 34. ‘Australians will be the judges’, Daily Telegraph, 15 March 1968, editorial. Rutledge was captured in 1965 during bombing into North Vietnam, and having killed a peasant farmer who was threatening him after he parachuted into enemy territory. He was tortured, and finally released to return to America in 1973. (Rutledge and White, In the Presence of Mine Enemies 1965–1973: A Prisoner of War, p. 14) CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, p. l60. ibid., p. 162. Sir Thomas Daly, Interview with author. W. Major, Interview with author. Freudenberg, A Certain Grandeur, p. 127. Sir John Gorton, Interview with author. SMH, 15 March 1968. ‘Nui Dat should now be closed’, Courier-Mail, 15 March 1968, editorial; ‘Australians will be the judges’, Daily Telegraph, 15 March 1968, editorial; ‘A hard, but correct choice’, West Australian, 15 March 1968, editorial. All three editorials supported the decision of the Government not to hold an inquiry. One reason was the effect it would have on the morale of the Australian soldiers in Vietnam. ‘Torture’, SMH, 15 March 1968, editorial, p. 2; ‘Gorton’s ordeal by water. The PM: Noisy, histrionic, ironic in torture debate’, SMH, 15 March 1968, ‘Evan Williams in Canberra’, p 2. ‘Torture’, SMH, 15 March 1968, editorial, p. 2. ‘The torture debate’, Age, 15 March 1968, editorial. Mercury, 15 March 1968. Canberra Times, 16 March 1968. CPD, HR 58, 14 March 1968, p. 178. Sir John Gorton, Interview with author. ‘Lynch “disliked” press reports’, Canberra Times, 9 April 1968. See also the

246


161 162 163 164

165 166 167

report ‘Lynch will study how troops react’, Australian, 9 April 1968. See, for example, SMH, 14 February 1968. Due particularly to the use of the photograph by anti-war pamphleteers. A. E. Mander, Mosman, ‘Treatment of prisoners’, SMH, 27 February 1968. ‘Diggers criticise village aid role. Tolerant to absurdity, says colonel’, Australian, 21 February 1968. ‘The right approach’, Australian, 26 February 1968, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘A political St. George. “Warn her that behind those baby blue eyes there’s plenty of toughness” ’, Herald, 5 April 1968, ‘Claudia Wright meets Phillip Lynch’.


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6

The Beginning of Withdrawal, December 1969

The federal election on 25 October 1969 reinstated the LiberalCountry Party as Government with a majority reduced from thirty-nine to seven and a ‘national swing to Labor of 7.1 per cent, the largest swing against a government since 1931’.1 Graham Freudenberg highlighted the difficulty of defining the influence of Vietnam on domestic politics. ‘Vietnam had not played a prominent part in the official campaigns of either side in 1969. Yet it remained an issue of critical importance’.2 Whitlam, Leader of the Opposition, had supported withdrawal from Vietnam, while Prime Minister Gorton had made strong statements that any withdrawal of Australian troops would rest on the proviso ‘one out, all out’. Gorton’s stand became increasingly obscure because of a lack of stated public intention. The most quoted example of confusion from the Government in 1969 was the comment made by the Minister for Defence, Allen Fairhall. He assessed the position in Vietnam as ‘inevitably moving towards an unpredictable end at an indefinite date’.3 Whitlam gained the initiative, appearing as a leader in tune with international, particularly American, realities on China and Vietnam. Before the election Bruce Grant, Public Affairs columnist for the Age, had encouraged the Labor Party to ‘speak out on defence’ because he determined that it had ‘a more coherent and positive sympathy with the trend of events’.4

Domestic politics and the coverage of the decision to withdraw troops from Vietnam in December 1969 became entwined because of the call by thirty-two unions in Victoria for national servicemen to lay down their arms two days before Gorton’s announcement. Secretary of the Western Australian branch of the Labor Party, F. E. Chamberlain, had also called on Whitlam to initiate and lead a major protest against the war. Gorton strove to regain the initiative while Whitlam used related Vietnam reporting to continue his push to establish parliamentary dominance over the Labor movement. The coincidental timing of events allowed him to gamble with reducing the power of the Victorian branch of the ALP and Chamberlain’s power in Western Australia. Despite the fact that Parliament was not sitting, coverage of related Vietnam issues took on a domestic political orientation. There were clear differences in the attitudes and reporting of the papers in late 1969 compared with the earlier years of escalation. As domestic politics became more publicly interlinked with Vietnam policy, the home-based press specialists seemed more certain of their opinions about Vietnam than they had at any other time. The climate of reporting by the late 1960s, partially at least the result of the changing basis of Australian foreign policy and the Liberal-Country Party’s public disarray, permitted a more balanced perception of party policies relating to Vietnam. Discussion of the withdrawal of Australian troops from Vietnam concentrated attention on the balance between military and political objectives. In 1969 the press differentiated between these objectives in Vietnam, acknowledging that political objectives had always been the dominating impetus for Australian commitment. As the justifications of previous years for Australian intervention were slowly dismissed by the press, the dominance of the remaining factor—the American alliance—was made clear. The increasing acceptance of the fact that the outcome of the war in Vietnam did not militarily affect Australia helped to illuminate the predominance of the political over all military implications of the decisions taken. A number of commentators revealed this by their acceptance of likely domination of South Vietnam by Communists and Hanoi after the Allies withdrew. The significance of Australia’s military contribution was discussed in terms of its insignificance, a political commitment that had failed to achieve part of Australia’s objective of retaining American forces in South-East Asia. In May 1965 the Canberra Times had The Beginning of Withdrawal

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questioned the wisdom of using Australian defence forces for ‘a purely political objective’.5 Rod Tiffen’s theory of the limiting aspects of the ‘pathology of being a junior ally’ was very clear in the commentary in Australian dailies in November and December 1969. Equally obvious was the public acknowledgement of this restraint by some journalists. American withdrawal had removed the ‘disloyal’ factor from reporting an oppositional view to Australia’s participation in Vietnam. The changes in reporting and its setting in 1969 were acknowledged in a public lecture given in August 1969 by Bruce Grant: The attitude of the Australian press to foreign affairs has changed lately. Australian newspapers have become more critical and sceptical, both of international developments generally and of their own Government’s contribution in particular.6 His assessment of the association of loyalty and the reporting of government policy when Australia was engaged in military conflict indicated the important change for reporters that came with a change in American policy in Vietnam, at a time when Australia was moving hesitantly towards its first announcement on withdrawal. At least one key journalist in 1969 acknowledged that the policy of the ‘protector’ rather than the ‘protected’ would increase the freedom of coverage. Grant claimed the Cold War had resulted in an Australian press ‘notably respectful’ to the Australian Government and those whom the Australian Government favoured. Once Australia accepted the necessity for participation in military alliances, Australia’s independence was lost: This affected not only an independent foreign policy, but also an independent press. For the Government could reasonably say: ‘Look, we can’t talk about this in public … but you know as well as we do the seriousness of the world wide threat to freedom. A responsible press doesn’t try to embarrass a government which is caught up in what is virtually a war’. I don’t mean that governments actually said this to newspapers, although occasionally the phrasing was explicit enough. It was implicit, however, in both 250


the atmosphere and the situation that governments could expect newspapers not to be embarrassing on the major issues.7 According to Grant the split in the Labor Party in 1955 had helped government parties establish the argument in the electorate that the Labor Party was ‘sympathetic to the very enemy Australia was committed to keep at bay’.8 The debate on ‘loyalty’ and ‘disloyalty’ in respect of foreign policy had become the anguished theme of a society dependent on protection and concerned to rationalise the whims of the protector into values of universal appeal. We have lifted ‘consultation’ to the level of diplomacy … It is because we have become so heavily dependent on the decisions of others, because we get so very little information ourselves compared with what could be given, that, in my view, we have tended to be excessively respectful to secrecy and preoccupied with the demands of loyalty.9 The responsibility not to criticise the still all-powerful ally was not lessened by the change. Rather, it gave credence to Labor foreign policy and allowed for the questioning of the vagueness of Government policy. The Australian political environment had changed. The Labor Party was less able to be categorised by the Government as representing Communist interests, as had been the case in the 1950s and early 1960s. Grant succinctly made this point: The anti communist core of Australia’s defence and foreign policies which began during the Cold War and was hardened by the Vietnam War, has lost its power as a catalyst of emotional support for external policies.10 An examination of press commentary in December 1969 supports Grant’s contentions that changing perceptions of Communism in Australia were affecting press opinion. Central to that change was the understanding of the individualism of Communist states and an Australian community being more universally informed that the imminent threat of falling dominoes could be questioned and was no The Beginning of Withdrawal

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longer a reason for Australia’s military commitment in South Vietnam. The removal of the threat of immediate vulnerability changed the basis of press commentary for some Canberra specialist reporters and produced a more open debate in press commentary. Grant assessed this change in August 1969: The single communist enemy—for example, the Viet Cong, Hanoi, and Peking all working to threaten Australia—is no longer easy to conjure up. Appreciation of this has meant a more detached and I think sophisticated view in the Australian press towards the threat of communism and containment.11 Throughout the coverage of Australia’s participation in the war there had never been unanimous approval or disapproval for all aspects of policy and Government justification in Australian dailies. The isolated questioning of Government justification for military involvement in most papers amidst overall commentary that supported Government policy had reduced the impact of legitimacy for an alternative viewpoint. In 1969 three significant changes were redefining the parameters of debate. These were the public change in American policy that gave a legitimacy to Labor’s position of withdrawal from Vietnam, the development of a more informed understanding of the nature of Communism, and the understanding that Australia was no longer under immediate threat. The dominance of the political commentary in newspapers was expanded during this period, in line with an expanding bureaucracy and the turbulence of conflict between and within the Labor and Liberal parties. This was the context of changing American intent in Asia and changing domestic politics in which Vietnam was reported in the latter part of 1969. Vietnam often became the incidental vehicle for political manoeuvring. Newspapers regarded defence as a vital Australian policy issue and, as consistently as in 1962, they asked for Government clarification of a total defence policy. The importance of the withdrawal of British troops from Singapore and Malaysia continued to surface as important to Australian security and editorials addressed concerns about British withdrawal from the region as well as American. The ‘Guam doctrine’ or ‘Nixon doctrine’, espoused by Nixon in Guam on 25 July 1969, that looked to limiting the American 252


presence in Asia, added to a growing sense of Australian insecurity. ‘In short,’ warned the Australian, ‘we have no defence philosophy because we seem uncertain of what we are supposed to be defending—Australia in a modified go-it-alone posture? Australia in concert with its allies? Or continental, fortress Australia.’12 All these factors presented the Australian press interested in domestic and foreign politics towards the end of 1969 with an enviable wealth of issues to consider and report. Many journalists responded to that challenge with quality commentary and analysis.

Setting the Context The first official announcement of American troop withdrawal occurred on 8 June 1969 following a meeting of South Vietnam’s President Thieu and President Nixon at Midway Island. There Nixon announced the planned withdrawal of 25 000 American combat troops from South Vietnam. The decision reflected what was to be known as the Guam doctrine, and was interpreted in the press as a message from Nixon that America was leaving Asia. Gorton’s response to the decision displayed a need to be seen as informed of the American intention. Gorton publicly responded on 9 June: The United States decision to withdraw 25,000 of the 500,000 they have in Vietnam was foreshadowed as a possibility in my report to the House of Representatives on 15 May this year … It may be argued that Australia should at once reduce its forces … I believe that would be a wrong thing to do.13 Describing such action as a ‘shabby thing’, Gorton warned of the danger of misinterpretation by North Vietnam and others of the American withdrawal decision ‘as a prelude to a general withdrawal’ before the attainment of Allied objectives for South Vietnam. In later years it is obvious that Gorton was troubled by this response. This was evident in an interview in 1994 with journalist Tony Parkinson, where Gorton claimed that he had doubted Australian policy in Vietnam from the time of Holt’s election: Everybody was complaining about the draft taking some and leaving others. I didn’t begin to doubt it as much then The Beginning of Withdrawal

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as I do now. It is a long time afterwards. But I don’t think we should have left any of our troops there when Nixon was taking some out.14 America had escalated its commitment since Australia’s final increase and so to withdraw troops would have produced an excess burden on United States’ forces.15 Whitlam’s response was cautious. While claiming that the Australian Government had ‘no alternative but to begin to plan for a parallel assumption of responsibility’ by the South Vietnamese in Phuoc Tuy province and that Allied policy ‘must now be to neutralise Laos, Cambodia and the whole of Vietnam’, there was no definite statement that demanded withdrawal of Australian troops.16 On 8 August Australian newspapers reported the completion of the first withdrawal of 25 000 American troops from Vietnam.17 While the Australian had always been the most vocal of Australian dailies against the war, its negative response to the first successful withdrawal of American troops was unexpected. It chose to head its report ‘Cooks thrown into battle as U.S. troops leave’. The report claimed that as some troops withdrew ‘U.S. marines are turning their cooks and clerks into riflemen in the push towards the Que Son Valley to reinforce American infantrymen fighting one of the year’s biggest battles’.18 In a news report on 27 August the Australian’s report of Hanoi’s attitude to the first American withdrawal of combat troops was more consistent with the broader stance of the paper. The Australian claimed that Hanoi saw the United States as stubborn over troop withdrawal: North Vietnam and Provisional Revolutionary Government (Viet Cong) yesterday jeered at the American decision not to withdraw a further contingent of U.S. troops from South Vietnam. ‘President Nixon’s statements reflect the obstinacy of the United States, which will use any pretext not to withdraw troops. We have long rejected as illogical and unrealistic the American conditions for withdrawal,’ a Viet Cong spokesman said.19 The editorial in the Australian stated that Nixon had to decide in the ensuing weeks what his next decision in Vietnam would be. 254


He had set his criteria for withdrawal of ground troops in Vietnam. It rested on progress in three fields: the war, the peace negotiations, and the success of Vietnamisation of the war. ‘Only the last of these offers him much encouragement’, concluded the Australian in August 1969.20 ‘Vietnamisation’ was to become the justification for the first withdrawals of Allied troops from Vietnam. Newspapers argued about the ‘inevitability’ of Australian withdrawal, but in the totality of comment from each was the clear rejection of the American and Australian government attempts to justify their action of withdrawal on optimistic assessments of the war. This point was made in the Australian’s response following the announcement of phased withdrawal: The new emphasis on winning … has been a marked feature of recent American statements but not of American actions. It is a comforting emphasis with no meaning whatsoever. The illusion of holding a ‘winning position’ has become the justification for not seeking to win and, in fact, for continuing to withdraw.21 On 16 September, President Nixon announced plans to withdraw an additional 35 000 combat troops. On 15 December he announced that 50 000 American combat troops would be withdrawn by 15 April 1970. On 16 December Gorton announced the Government’s intention for Australian withdrawal to be part of the next American announcement on withdrawal.

Pre-emptive Commentary By the time that Gorton made public his decision to withdraw troops, papers had pre-empted that probability and others had demanded Australian withdrawal. On 5 November the editorial in the Australian deduced from Nixon’s address on Vietnam on 3 November that America had ‘now accepted a timetable for complete American withdrawal’. This circumstance ‘removed any reason for Australia to hesitate further in securing firm arrangements for her own withdrawal’.22 The interpretation of Nixon’s speech by Australian cartoonist, Bruce Petty, was cutting. According to Petty, the message was ‘We are slowly but surely Vietnamising the casualty lists’.23 Petty’s viewpoint was reiterated in the headline of Grant’s weekly Public Affairs column in the Age on 27 November: ‘Colour change for The Beginning of Withdrawal

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corpses’. While stating that a ‘wilful withdrawal’ of American forces could damage the stability of Asia and America’s reputation as much as the ‘wilful Americanisation’ of the war had from 1965, Grant’s argument echoed Petty’s: If the only effect of an American withdrawal is to transfer the fighting to the Vietnamese—to change the colour of the corpses, as the process has been described—U.S. policy will be shown to be impotent, in both war and peace.24 On 13 December, the Age accepted part of the premise of American Senator Fulbright’s criticism that Australia’s ‘tiny contribution’ in Vietnam was ‘an investment in Washington’s gratitude’ rather than a serious contribution to the war.25 The commentary stated clearly the political basis for Australia’s commitment: The Australian commitment of fighting men to Vietnam was made not to defend the country against any visible threat of invasion but for long term strategic motives. Now that the U.S. administration has decided to withdraw as soon as it can with dignity, the Government should drop the pretence that the Vietnam affair is our war. It never has been, but our troops have earned us a share in the business of disengagement.26 The sense of the end of Australia’s role in Vietnam was shown in Grant’s assessment of Fulbright’s comments. Reinforcing editorial comment the same day, Grant claimed that failure in Vietnam must lead to a change in the alliance between America and Australia.27 Instead of basking in the praise that success in Vietnam would have brought for a ‘minimum’ commitment, Australia had received the ‘worst of both worlds’: The commitment was sufficient to identify Australia with the American failure in Vietnam but not sufficient to establish Australian influence on the course of American policy.28

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Grant concluded that the question to be answered was how quickly Australians got out of Vietnam, not if. In an equally forthright demand directly to the Government, on 11 December, the Age warned that it was time for the Government to take ‘the public into its confidence’. It ‘was straining public credulity’ to believe that the Australian Government had no ‘contingency plan’ for withdrawal. With particular sting, the Age suggested that perhaps the Government’s hesitancy in informing the Australian public was because the Government was not in control of its policy: Unless the Government’s programme is drawn up in Washington and dictated to Canberra, it should have some forward planning under consideration.29 The Courier-Mail’s editorial on 16 October, before the election, had claimed that the ‘Government will phase the withdrawal of Australian servicemen from Vietnam with the American withdrawal’.30 The editorial made no comment on this statement, preferring to attack Labor for its aim of destroying the Australian Army by its plan to abolish national service.31 Whitlam was partly exonerated from the attack because the paper asserted that it was ‘doubtful’ that he approved Labor’s foreign and defence policy that bore the ‘imprimatur of the party’s isolationist, anti-American, pacifist left wing’. Whitlam was ‘saddled’ with it.32 The tendency of some papers to differentiate between support for the Labor Party and support for Whitlam at this time indicated a need to sanction a change that accepted Labor’s ability to be trusted with the American alliance. On 28 November the Courier-Mail stated that it was time it came to a ‘firm decision on withdrawal of Australians’. The Government should ‘lose no time’ in consulting with allies and South Vietnam to ‘set about fixing a timetable for an Australian withdrawal’.33 Morality as a factor in Australia’s withdrawal could be approached from two perspectives. The rapidity of dropping previously stated objectives for Australia’s participation in Vietnam is shown in the Daily Telegraph. On 5 December the Daily Telegraph stated that South Vietnam’s allies had a ‘job to do’. Until South Vietnam was in a position to control the war against the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese, ‘America and her allies have a clear moral duty to support the South Vietnamese Government’.34 By 11 December the The Beginning of Withdrawal

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Daily Telegraph had concluded that Nixon wanted to get out of Vietnam as fast as possible and therefore, ‘when American forces get out, Australian forces will get out too’.35 The Australian’s commentary demanding withdrawal was determined by a different definition of morality. The Australian’s stance was linked to the American acknowledgement, made public in late November, that American soldiers had been involved in a massacre of Vietnamese villagers at My Lai in March 1966. The 4 December edition of the Australian presented readers with a definite, if emotional, demand for an end to Australia’s participation in the Vietnam War. In a pointer to inside commentary headlined ‘Vietnam: Time to get out’,36 the paper made its attitude clear: There is no longer any political justification for the Vietnam war. Morality is now paramount and morality, which means the conscience of each of us, demands that the war stop … The choice we must make to save Vietnam is total withdrawal—as fast as all troops can be brought home. Morality demands it.37 The editorial wrote of Australia’s initial ‘well-meaning effort to save Vietnam from communism’, a simplistic explanation that the Australian had not espoused prominently in previous years, although it had emphasised American participation in the war in these terms. This aim could no longer be justified because its pursuit was destroying Vietnam ‘physically, economically and morally’. The Australian saw in this withdrawal the accusations that would follow, the terms ‘scuttle’, ‘sell-out’, ‘treachery’, ‘defeat’, ‘humiliation’. These had to be faced. Also to be faced were the consequences of withdrawal on South Vietnam: We must face the fact that total and quick withdrawal of all U.S. and allied troops will mean the end of the Saigon Government.38 On the same page Douglas Brass begged, in a column punctuated by eyewitness accounts of My Lai, for an Australian response. His words revealed an impatience with the acceptance of American dominance over Australian actions. Despite the seriousness with 258


which this point could have been developed, in line with consensus on the importance of the American alliance, this salient consideration was obscured by the emotional context and presentation of the report. How much longer can we Australians stomach this filthy war that the hapless Americans have got us into? The comments aimed to influence. The emotionalism of Brass’s rhetoric was caught in his catchcry, ‘When?’: When are we going to hear the voice of humane Australia raised in anger over war crimes which have now been officially acknowledged … When is the Prime Minister going to cease uttering bland sophistries about our commitment to evil and failure? When is our Ambassador in the U.S. to be told to get off his plump tail and express our misgivings about events which shame us to the point of secret tears? When are we going to drop the cowardly role of silence, the callous parade of approval of everything America does, the lies about treaty obligations when only mean self interest is in mind?39 The justification for Brass’s response was intrinsically linked to the My Lai massacre. Brass had sounded less positive about Australia’s role in Vietnam after a tour of Vietnam and contact with Australian soldiers. Robert Duffield, the Foreign Editor, also used My Lai as part of his call for Australia to get out of Vietnam. Duffield had just returned from a tour of South Vietnam. In an article written about the Australian pacification program, Duffield had concluded with the following assessment: ‘There it is then—an Australian team too small for the tasks assigned to it, and already working on borrowed time. Left there indefinitely, the task force might achieve its aims. Pulled out precipitately, it will certainly sacrifice the things it has achieved. Where do we go from here?’40 In December there was a unanimous voice in commentary from the Australian which increased the urgency and intensity of its message, expressed in editorials, cartoons and specialist columns. The majority of its published letters to the The Beginning of Withdrawal

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editor supported the paper’s stance.41 To some extent, the Australian was using My Lai to claim what it had long demanded. It would be wrong to say that the My Lai massacre was the impetus for the demand by the Australian to withdraw from Vietnam. However, the public disclosure of the massacre, at a time when President Nixon had committed US ground troops to withdrawal, helped cement the argument for withdrawal. The Australian had argued previously that morality must be a determining factor in Australia’s support for the war. In questioning the justification for escalation of troops in 1966 the paper had argued that the morality of the means to achieve peace was a vital factor for consideration: While we cannot ignore the continuing international debate about whether Western involvement in the war is justifiable, we must, at the same time, recognise that the methods used to ensure the effectiveness of that commitment are equally important … The West will be judged not only by whether its cause is right or wrong, but also by its conduct in support of its cause. Talk of opposition to or support for our Vietnam commitment is irrelevant in this respect: if we cannot see the wrong in using dishonourable means to achieve an honourable end, then truly we deserve the savage society which by our acquiescence, we are helping to create.42 The emotionalism of the Australian copy did produce a response in letters to the editor, although there was no official response to the increasing demand for a Government response to My Lai and the question of Australian withdrawal from Vietnam. This may have influenced the insistence that developed in the Australian and Age, in particular, before Gorton made his announcement. In an equally determined, but quietly reasoned commentary, Bruce Grant devoted every week of his Public Affairs column in the Age from late November through December to Vietnam-related issues.43 Politically astute, he argued that the nature of the Australian Government’s problem was its inability to understand where American policy was going in Vietnam.44 In welcoming Gorton’s statement that Australian troops would be withdrawn he concluded: 260


The Australian government has now come to terms publicly with the situation in Vietnam. This is a turning point and is no less noteworthy for having been inevitable.45 It was not so much the ‘situation in Vietnam’ that the Australian Government had come to terms with. It was American intent in Vietnam. Denis Warner had always asserted that the major reason for Australia’s participation in the Vietnam War was because America was in Vietnam. By December 1969 his comments explicitly defined this consideration: Canberra paid great heed to its responsibilities as an ally of the United States: it is not easy to believe that it regarded the war itself as a serious threat to the security of Australia.46 Grant reiterated the point in a slightly different way: The survival of the Thieu Government is not, however, a vital Australian interest.47

Gorton’s Announcement Gorton announced his government’s intention to withdraw Australian troops from Vietnam on the morning of 17 December. The announcement was made during a parliamentary recess, with Parliament not scheduled to meet until 3 March. Gorton refused to give a press conference to clarify his statement, preferring instead to give an Address to the Nation on radio and television that evening. In it, he indicated that Australia would be tied in to the next withdrawal of American troops, after consultation with Allies. There was no set timetable and no date. Nor could he indicate who or how many would be initially withdrawn. Howson claims that on 14 December, Gorton, McMahon and McEwen ‘spent most of the day deciding on a new policy for Vietnam and that at last Gorton has got the message that he has to face up to the problem and make some decisions. It was apparently not an easy day’s discussion but at least the PM is listening to the advice of External Affairs.’48 Gorton’s announcement indicated a lessthan-well-thought-through policy decision. The Beginning of Withdrawal

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Editorials and Commentary The ambiguity of Gorton’s announcement was criticised in most papers. The Australian complained that the clear intent of his first statement, issued in the morning, announcing ‘in principle’ the decision to withdraw Australian troops from Vietnam, had become less certain after his evening Address to the Nation. The paper accused Gorton of carefully spelling out ‘three complete negatives’: he knew of no firm plans for further American withdrawals, there were no arrangements about the stage at which any Australian withdrawals would be phased in to an American withdrawal and ‘there is no arrangement made as to how great any Australian reductions, which may take place in the future, will be’.49 The query from the Australian as to ‘why he bothered to say anything yesterday’ was obvious. Yet despite this criticism papers did accept the ‘principle’ as the Government’s first official announcement of its intention to withdraw from Vietnam. As the SMH advised its readers, ‘what Mr. Gorton’s statements boil down to’ was the phased withdrawal of Australian troops.50 Petty’s cartoon depicted Gorton, shuffling out of Nixon’s office in his pyjamas, carrying a big note on which was written, ‘You can go’. The President was calling after him, ‘Sorry to have wakened you!’51 David Solomon, in his column ‘Politics’, believed that the ambiguity in Gorton’s announcement was deliberate in order to ‘stifle discussion’.52 Gorton had refused to brief journalists to avoid ‘interpretation’ of his statements by the press. Journalists were unable to discuss with the Prime Minister why he had changed his original claim that if any were to be withdrawn from Vietnam, all would be. Solomon assessed the effect of Gorton’s choice of disclosure of the decision as clever manipulation: Mr. Gorton’s tactics came off on this occasion. Public discussion of the changed government policy has been minimal, and partly because few people quite understand what the new policy is.53 The Advertiser’s response was cautious. While claiming that Gorton could have justified an immediate withdrawal of some troops, it supported the Government’s decision to wait as ‘a fair, rational and honourable decision’.54 The Government’s action was justified because of the small number of troops involved and the danger of removing 262


some and not others. Contradicting its assessment that withdrawal would be possible, the paper asserted that the Vietnamese were not ready to take over Phuoc Tuy province. Unlike the Australian, the Advertiser was not willing to accept withdrawal at the cost of perceived humiliation. If Australia were to insist on bringing out even a token number of her troops the whole process of withdrawal would inevitably begin to look like an evacuation.55 The paper concluded that Nixon’s threat of retaliation to any build-up while troops were withdrawing would be ‘difficult’. The finality of the decision to withdraw was acknowledged in all dailies. This was despite the American conditions for progressive withdrawal their news pages carried. Atchison’s cartoon in the Advertiser was far less reverent about Gorton’s announcement than the paper’s editorial. Gorton was portrayed as a pathetic little mimicker, trumpeting his message from the base of the bigger American trombone.56 The editorial in the Australian argued for a ‘firm and direct policy decision’. The decision should be Australia’s, the Allies had already publicly stated this. Either Australia decided it was worth being there or it was not. If the latter was the case then withdrawal should not be hedged by conditions. For a paper that had long opposed Australia’s participation in the war, the black-and-white directive to Government was consistent with past demands. Significantly, it did differentiate between the military and political, asserting ‘there can, in fact, be no serious justification, political or military, for an Australian decision hedged by conditions’.57 It opposed piecemeal withdrawal. The West Australian adopted a grudging and reluctant support for the Government’s decision to withdraw.58 It too warned against endangering Australian troops by phased withdrawal. Its reticence was more obvious in its editorial two days later that also carried a warning reminiscent of the domino theory justifications for Australia’s initial participation in Vietnam. Bowing to the inevitable American withdrawal, the paper expressed fear of Australia’s isolation. The implications for South Vietnam were defined in the terms of selfinterest: The potential victims have no illusions about the danger they face; unlike them, those Australians who want to leave South Vietnam to its fate are wilfully ignoring the The Beginning of Withdrawal

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tremendous political, military and economic changes that may soon threaten the region in which we live. Australia cannot afford spurious thinking divorced from a sober appreciation of what the future may hold for our part of the world.59 The point was still being made a week later, if with a slightly different emphasis: The President has pledged himself in Asia to a doctrine of limited commitment which, though it involves risks for Australia, offers Communist and non-Communist countries a chance to settle their differences in their own way and to learn to live side by side. These are big gambles for peace.60 The inevitability of Australia’s withdrawal had been stated by the Courier-Mail before Gorton’s announcement. The ‘pre-ordained’ Australian withdrawal would be the result of inadequate power and will to remain in Vietnam when the Americans left. The editorial was explicit in defining the political parameters of the decision: It seems that in deciding on a piecemeal Australian withdrawal the Government has been more influenced by the cold facts of international politics than by military requirements. If the viability of our ground force was militarily important in August, why is it still not so in December?61 The editorial questioned the discrepancy between Gorton’s and Nixon’s assessments of ‘risk’ in withdrawal and believed that neither appeared to ‘fully understand each other’. While not specifically stated, the paper rejected the notion that the South Vietnamese could survive if Allied forces withdrew. Yet to be proved was whether American estimates of the South Vietnamese ability to shoulder the burden of the fighting were based on ‘realistic military appraisal or on political wishful thinking’.62 The Herald adopted a sombre approach to Australia’s decision. Like the West Australian, it expressed a fear of a future without America in South-East Asia.63 264


We are conforming as we must at this stage to an historic retreat and realignment of United States policy in our area. Our own responsibilities are about to change. We must realise that they can only grow heavier.64 This editorial reflected a consideration of Warner’s comments, frustration with the US, subtle as it might have been, with an expression of fear about the results for Australia of American withdrawal from the Asian region. The Canberra Times registered less acceptance of the status quo. Its comment reflected the view expressed by Bruce Petty. There was another aspect to the morality of Australia’s position in Vietnam and some commentators noted the loss of earlier justifications for participation espoused by the Government and endorsed by the majority of press commentary in earlier years: If there is neither an early, negotiated peace, nor a collapse by either force, this means only that fighting will be left to the Vietnamese. It is perhaps a comment on the evolution of our objectives that the American and Australian Governments can regard this end as an acceptable end.65 The extent to which it was an ‘evolution’ was qualified in the Canberra Times’ own underlying assumption: It is heartening that Australia may now look forward to disengagement from this brutalising war of uncertain antecedents and indefinite objectives.66 With a few incidental exceptions, the American alliance was the philosophical core for Australian press commentary from which emanated consideration and assessment of Australian Government policy. This philosophy was embraced consciously and unconsciously by press commentators. By 1969 some of the press were recognising that Labor foreign and defence policy reflected as accurately, if not more accurately than the Government’s policy, American intentions in South-East Asia. This resulted in a seeming turnabout of press consideration of the Opposition’s view. By 1969 the problem of assessing Australian policy, in terms of American acceptance, was recognised The Beginning of Withdrawal

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but not rectified. No paper better illustrates this limitation during December 1969 than the SMH. The lack of any evidence of a consistent logic in its editorials is exemplified in the SMH’s many salient points that were lost in the attempt to legitimise comment within the confines of American direction. The SMH reluctantly accepted the decision of the Australian Government to withdraw from Vietnam and the justification for phased withdrawal with even less enthusiasm. The political had overridden military considerations: President Nixon’s determination to press ahead with an accelerated withdrawal made it, however, inevitable that political considerations should prevail … an Australian Government which, for however good military reasons, refused to follow the American example would have invited disaster.67 The editorial hinted that the role played by public opinion in the American decision was also being felt in Canberra. ‘No one will doubt that the course now somewhat obscurely charted will be popular.’68 While the editorial advocated total rather than phased withdrawal at a future given time, it noted that this course of action had presumably been rejected ‘because it would be unacceptable to the Americans (retention of whose goodwill remains very properly a major Australian consideration)69 and unfair to the South Vietnamese and in addition would provide a propaganda bonanza for Hanoi.70 This identified priority said much for the paper’s understanding of Australia’s best interests in assessing Government deliberation. The inability to express opposition to Government policy, or at least assess it from an Australian, Vietnamese or military perspective, was the result of the paper’s bind to its parenthesised comment. Yet there was also a hint of cynicism about the price of American goodwill and the gap between reality and political expediency: It is not to denigrate the military achievements of our troops to acknowledge that their importance to the Allied cause—and to Washington—lies in their presence rather than their number or their prowess.71

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As if to disclaim the acceptance of all that came before, the editorial then concluded that withdrawal would not begin ‘before the critical question whether the enemy has the capacity for a final offensive is answered’.72 Logic and morality continued to vie in editorial comment despite attempts to address the need for both in Australia’s decision to withdraw. Gavin Souter, in his history of the SMH and Fairfax Limited, provides valuable insight into editorial judgements about reporting Vietnam at this time. Peter Michelmore73and Lillian Roxon, SMH journalists in New York, tried in vain to encourage editor John Pringle and Sir Warwick Fairfax to adopt a definite editorial stance supporting Australia’s withdrawal from Vietnam. Michelmore insisted in the later months of 1969 that the American President would accelerate troop withdrawal from Vietnam. His claim that a front-page editorial would win support from key newspapers such as the New York Times and the London Times was a curious basis for the demand. The request was politely refused by Sir Warwick. Pringle acknowledged the ‘conflict of opinion’ between the anti-war stance of Michelmore and the copy of Macartney, the Age correspondent in Washington whose commentaries were published in the SMH. Pringle acknowledged a preferential respect for Macartney’s ‘political judgement’ which he saw as supportive of presidential policy. Macartney’s copy looked ‘for evidence that the majority of Americans’ were also supportive of this policy. Pringle concluded that ‘strictly speaking it should be possible for both men to hold these opinions and report absolutely objectively about the political situation. In practice this is not so and perhaps both men have erred at one time or another.’74 It was Michelmore’s copy that was at times rejected for emotionalism in late 1969. Earlier in the year Pringle had raised concerns about the SMH’s coverage of Vietnam and in mid-July 1969 had suggested that a correspondent should be sent there. His reasoning revealed the priority given to the political agenda in the reporting of Vietnam in Australianbased reporting: My argument is simply that the end of the war is approaching and that none of us really knows what the Australian force has achieved, or indeed how it can be extricated.

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I myself could not answer the simplest examination about the role of our troops.75 The SMH’s editorial manager, Lou Leck, finally concluded debate on the issue by stating that Denis Warner was the best available and thus there was no point in sending another journalist.76 The value placed on Warner’s viewpoint by the SMH was obvious in its editorials concerning Vietnam in December 1969. On 19 December, the paper maintained the view that the war was ‘winnable’, ending its positive utterances by stating its agreement with Warner that ‘Vietnamisation’ required time, ‘with U.S. withdrawals controlled by the advance of South Vietnamese military proficiency’.77 The SMH was expressing a more positive evaluation of the situation in Vietnam than Warner, despite the similarity of argument presented. Its editorial contradicted the news reports published: The government at last is stable and president Thieu is beginning to establish the secure political base, essentially in the Army, that will help him to resist the pressures of both Hanoi and Washington. The Government is standing on its feet—but has not yet attained momentum.78 The final observation appeared to qualify the preceding assessment of the Thieu Government. The establishment of a ‘secure political base’ defined in military support and the association of Washington with Hanoi as like pressures on Saigon evidently did not require further editorial explanation. If this concluding statement was used to support all positive assessment that went before, then perhaps Pringle’s concern about the need for the paper to obtain a clearer understanding of Vietnam was warranted. While Warner’s influence over editorial comment was obvious at this time, the SMH either failed to appreciate the depth of his concerns or consciously chose to reiterate Warner’s hopes rather than his commentary that saw the eventual victory of Hanoi in the South.

Whitlam and the Press Given that Nixon had announced the previous day that America would withdraw more troops by April 1970, the timing of Gorton’s announcement appeared reasonable and relevant despite the fact 268


that it was not made in Parliament. However, domestic politics related to Vietnam at this time proved opportune for Gorton, as some commentators noted. Two days before Gorton announced that Australian troops would be withdrawn, a meeting in Melbourne of thirty-two unions, representing more than 150 000 workers, called on national servicemen in Vietnam to ‘lay down their arms in mutiny against the heinous barbarism perpetrated in our name upon aged men, women and innocent children’.79 The action illustrated the continuing danger of Vietnam as an issue that could affect Labor’s credibility. In his analysis of federal Labor and its Vietnam policy, Beazley asserted that Whitlam was not ‘comfortable’ with Labor policy on Vietnam. Whitlam wanted flexibility of interpretation of Labor’s Vietnam policy to accommodate American goodwill but the harder line forced upon him in the end benefited his leadership. In the 1969 election Whitlam was politically astute in announcing a definite approach to withdrawal of Australian troops in Vietnam: The timing of the withdrawal of Australian forces, a matter which had long exercised the Party, no longer seemed so significant because American troops were gradually withdrawing.80 Whitlam was faced with the need for a public response to the unionists’ call for ‘mutiny’ in Victoria. The Age reported that the Victorian president of the ALP, George Crawford, who had chaired the meeting, said that national servicemen had been asked to mutiny ‘because they are as responsible for the killing as the officers who give the orders’.81 The meeting in Melbourne had been attended by the new president-elect of the Australian Council of Trade Unions (ACTU), Robert Hawke. To intensify the political minefield for Whitlam and Labor, Whitlam was being asked by the former leader of the ALP, Calwell, and the Western Australian Secretary of the ALP, ‘Joe’ Chamberlain, to ‘initiate’ and ‘lead’ ‘demonstrations against the Vietnam War’.82 Throughout December reporting also recorded the saga of the loading of the Jeparit, and the Sydney Waterside Union’s refusal to load supplies needed for Australian troops in Vietnam. The reporting of these incidents exceeded total coverage of Gorton’s announcement of withdrawal, both on the news pages and in the public response evident in the ‘Letters to the Editor’ columns. The Beginning of Withdrawal

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The emotionalism of all these issues threatened to link Labor demands for withdrawal into the dangerous public arena of a lack of respect for Australian soldiers.83 This was a line rarely intentionally crossed by public, politicians or press. Domestic politics were intrinsically linked with Vietnam reporting as a result. Gorton’s condemnation of the mutiny call was immediate. The political mileage he hoped to achieve was indicated in his attempt to associate the Labor Party with the ‘mutiny’ call and discredit it by inferring it was motivated by Communist sympathies. It was a muchused Liberal tactic but the fact that it had almost lost its potential as a weapon for the Liberals was shown in the politically rather clumsy way Gorton admitted the same: If the ALP does, in fact, want a Communist victory in South Vietnam, it should say so and the dividing line between the Government and the Opposition would again be starkly drawn.84 The Advertiser appeared to be motivated by a similar sentiment and intention: The ACTU cannot pretend, through sheer embarrassment, that it is not involved. Nor can the ALP … What does Mr. Whitlam think of the wretched business … There is already a painful contrast between his silence on this and the quickness with which he accused the Prime Minister of having done an ‘about-face’ on the withdrawal of Australian troops from Vietnam.85 The paper’s response to Whitlam’s letter repudiating the call to mutiny acknowledged Whitlam’s reply but condemned the time it took Whitlam to deem ‘it politic to condemn the Melbourne resolution’.86 All the papers saw the connection between the union call and Chamberlain to the internal politicking of the Labor Party. While defining the limits of federal political power in the Labor Party may have been the object, Vietnam became the vehicle. Interpretation of the connection and resultant responsibility for both actions varied between papers. This variance helped to qualify the seemingly more sympathetic and consistent reporting of Whitlam and Labor’s policies 270


on Vietnam. Hawke rejected the call for mutiny almost immediately, a point noted by the Courier-Mail, which claimed he should not have been there in the first place.87 Whitlam’s prolonged period of considered response allowed press condemnation to develop and raised for a short time the spectre that the Labor Party’s policy on Vietnam was not as clear as had appeared. In fact, Whitlam had written the response on 18 December. Why it was not made public until 22 December can only be conjectured.88 The importance of the letter’s intent may have persuaded Whitlam that its impact would be greater when his response would not vie with the Prime Minister’s and following press conjecture on preferable response. Whitlam’s response to the call for mutiny was contained in a letter he wrote to Chamberlain expressing his inability to respond to his request to lead an Australian campaign against the Vietnam War. Although Whitlam addressed his response to Chamberlain, every newspaper except the West Australian headlined their reports on page one by highlighting Whitlam’s response.89 Significantly, the Advertiser did not report it, although its editorial addressed the issue.90 Whitlam repudiated the call, stating that it could never be Labor Party or ACTU policy. He reminded members that they ‘should not give the false and damaging impression that under a Labor government policy would be determined at mass meetings or by public petitions. For this reason I concentrate my own actions in party and parliamentary channels.’91 In reply to Chamberlain he refused to participate in demonstrations or petitions against the war. ‘As leader, I have not thought it proper or prudent to sign statements or to appear with persons expressing a less complete view than our caucus or conference or presenting a different emphasis.’92 Freudenberg pointed out the significance of Whitlam’s response to Chamberlain. ‘That letter marked the end of the Labor Party’s disputes on Vietnam. From the beginning they had been only about the method and timing of withdrawal.’93 This may have oversimplified the political ends that individuals in the Labor Party sought from Vietnam and related issues but the period following Labor’s success in the election of October 1969 placed Whitlam in an enviable position for a Labor leader. His response to Chamberlain was less of a gamble with the old power of the Labor Party and the unions, than a public expression that under his leadership power would progressively establish itself from a parliamentary base in Canberra. Andrew Theophanous states in his The Beginning of Withdrawal

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analysis of this period that ‘Whitlam saw democracy as centred entirely on parliament’.94 He claims that after Whitlam’s near-win in the 1969 elections, the members of the Victorian Executive were on notice: Increasingly, powerful people in the ruling class saw him as an acceptable alternative. Having secured the reconstruction of the ALP and reduced the influence of the socialists within the party, Whitlam was able to present the image to the people of a legitimate reformer who was not about to change any fundamental institutions of society.95 By December 1969, a majority of Australian dailies were willing to consider the validity of Labor’s Vietnam policy, although the more hesitant differentiated between Labor and Whitlam. Those in the press willing to consider the legitimacy of Labor’s Vietnam policy partly explained this by proclaiming that the party had changed. Hugh Armfield, a Canberra Defence reporter for the Age, described the change: The 27th Australian Parliament will see the old-school Labor man almost extinct—those men who cut their political teeth in the days of the great Depression. In the Parliament of the late 1960’s they seemed out of place. They would definitely have outlived their era by the 1970’s. Mostly they lived in the past, living on memories, with the Depression and its aftermath burnt on their souls. The NEW BREED are young men—many in their 30s. They are well educated, with a fair swag of degrees, young men who are more akin to the white-collar than the blue collar worker.96 There was a correlation between press acceptance of Labor policy and the continued acceptance of American policy. Press challenges to the Government represented not the right for an Australian perspective on Vietnam that some papers had demanded since 1962, but evidence of support for the changing aspirations of American Government policy in Vietnam. In November the Age had highlighted 272


the difference between the Australian Government’s policy and American policy with the assertion that ‘Mr. Nixon’s credibility has collided with Mr. Gorton’s credibility’:97 For the belief in Canberra that the United States does not have a timetable for withdrawal from Vietnam takes issue with Mr. Nixon on his most vulnerable point. This point is the assertion that there is a timetable and the American people should give him the time to let it work … No doubt it would be easier for a Labor government in Australia to encourage an American withdrawal from Vietnam. But it is a Liberal-Country Party Government … that must make the decisions … This new isolationism in the Government is a reflection of its reluctance to face the emerging reality in Vietnam, which has fundamental lessons for Australian defence and foreign policy. It is also a disservice, no doubt unwittingly, to Mr. Nixon.98 The precarious acceptance of Whitlam by some newspapers was shown in the SMH’s response to Whitlam’s letter. It described as ‘generous’, the interpretation that Whitlam had repudiated the Victorian union’s call to Australian soldiers to lay down their arms. The paper claimed that Whitlam had expressed no opinion on the call for mutiny. ‘His failure to say plainly that to advocate mutiny is shameful, cowardly and criminal reflect no credit on himself or the movement of which he is supposed to be leader’.99 The paper damned with faint praise when it asserted that it did not think Whitlam condoned the mutiny call because he was ‘neither so stupid nor so unpatriotic’.100 Again, although muted, the motivation of opportunism was levelled against a Labor leader in assessing his public stance on an issue related to Australian involvement in Vietnam. The West Australian differentiated between the right to dissent and the attempts to produce ‘industrial chaos for political ends. Such action can only be detrimental to the Labor Party. If Mr. Whitlam is wise he will categorically condemn it.’101 The reporting and commentary in the West Australian at this time illustrated the importance of local concerns and their influence on coverage. All papers reported Chamberlain’s demand to Whitlam but there was considerably more coverage in the West Australian than in other dailies. The coverage The Beginning of Withdrawal

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was also very intense and personal. The object of the paper’s disapproval was Chamberlain. The West Australian claimed that Calwell and Chamberlain no longer spoke for federal Labor, and ‘should realise as long time losers the damage to the party that comes from affronting public opinion and the danger to it of letting leftist trouble-makers take policy making out of the hands of those responsible for it’.102 The editorial attacking Chamberlain was on the same page as a cartoon by Bill Mitchell that supported the editorial stance. The cartoon pilloried Chamberlain, unionists and demonstrators for opposing the war. A protester holding a poster saying ‘Hue, Massacre, Shame’ was being told by a union official, ‘Don’t demonstrate over that one, Idiot! The Americans didn’t do it.’ Another union official tells an Australian soldier, ‘Don’t worry son, if they shoot you for mutiny we’ll protest about that too!’103 Below the cartoon a letter to the editor from Chamberlain began: ‘It is a great pity that the talent of your cartoonist Mitchell is not used in illustrating the basic immorality of the war in Vietnam, rather than an aspect which is being used to discredit those who are seriously concerned with the war’s effect on hundreds and thousands of innocent people’.104 Chamberlain’s personal attack on Mitchell, encapsulated in the conclusion of his letter, ‘What do you think, Mr. Mitchell? Or don’t you?’ perhaps left little ground for complaint. Next day Chamberlain’s reply, under the heading ‘Labor’s attitude to Vietnam’, was published. It accused the paper of deliberately distorting his position in their comments and failure to print his disapproval of the call to mutiny and further, by ‘strong inference’, presenting him as supporting the call. In referring to the paper’s assertion that the men in the field would regard the Melbourne resolution with contempt, Chamberlain questioned how much more space the paper would have needed the previous day to publish all the servicemen’s reactions to the announcement of withdrawal. ‘How many would have quarrelled with the one solitary comment published—‘It’s about bloody time’?105 The West Australian published twenty-two letters related to Vietnam issues during the weeks following Gorton’s announcement of withdrawal, when the average published in the dailies studied was ten.106 The local aspect, Chamberlain’s Perth base, had been important in encouraging response in Western Australia in December 1969 on issues related to Vietnam. 274


The Australian dismissed the call to mutiny as a ‘cheap and nasty piece of political emotionalism’ and claimed that Whitlam was right not to have distinguished ‘it with a formal repudiation’: The incident is bound to react against the Labor Party, nevertheless. In one sense it already has. If the mutiny furore had not been engaging so much public opinion last week the Government’s strangely confused announcement about withdrawal from Vietnam would have been more likely to have received the critical scrutiny it warranted.107 The same viewpoint was expressed by Solomon. Commenting on Gorton’s turnabouts and confused policy on withdrawal, he noted: the reversals and the revelations haven’t so far created much of a political storm. One of the reasons for this is the way the call by trade unionists in Melbourne and Sydney for an army mutiny has allowed the Government to divert attention away from the overall question.108

The Vietnamese Response On the day that Gorton announced his government’s decision to be part of the next ‘substantial’ American withdrawal, Dr Phang Quang Dan, South Vietnamese Minister Without Portfolio, addressed the National Press Club in Canberra. This helped to add Vietnamese considerations of the decision to Australian coverage. Dan’s long association with Warner, as well as his timely address to the Press Club, increased his exposure in the Australian press at this time. Dan claimed that the Americans had spoilt the war, and that the Vietnamese would be pleased to have it back. There was a certain pride in Dan’s comments when he addressed the Press Club, as there had been in Prime Minister of South Vietnam, Air Vice Marshal Ky’s address, in 1967.109 His sentiment was supported in a cartoon by Petty expressing his opinion on Nixon’s announcement of further withdrawals. With his usual attention to detail, Petty depicted a large American commander barking at the diminutively represented Thieu and Ky: ‘Anyway, you should establish democracy easier with a million troops, U.S. weapons and no public opinion’. The Beginning of Withdrawal

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The commander’s bag was packed and on it was written ‘U.S’. with a sticker ‘Phased?’. A chart on the wall was titled ‘Withdrawal Vietnamisation schedule’.110 Warner had written a feature article on Dan the day before his address to the Press Club. A short summary above the heading of the article, ‘Dr. Dan, the hope for Vietnam’111 condensed the reasons for interest in Vietnam at this time: Vietnam … the hot issue. Unions demand mutiny by Australian troops. Sydney protesters against the My Lai massacre arrested. The Prime Minister, Mr. Gorton, under fire for not defining Australia’s attitude to the massacre. And to Australia comes one of the quiet heroes of Vietnam who risked his life and liberty for the little people of his country.112 The article chronicled Dan’s achievements as a doctor to the poor in Vietnam and his political career. After winning a seat in the National Assembly, against the wishes of Diem he was arrested and tortured and saved from a sentence of eight years’ hard labour only by Diem’s overthrow in 1963. After his release he had communicated to Warner his bitterness towards Diem and the Americans. He ‘tended to blame the Americans as much as Diem’: ‘The only message the Americans bring is antiCommunism,’ he said. ‘They criticise the Communists bitterly for the very thing they countenance here. The North Vietnamese regime at least has the advantage of being true to itself. It does attempt to work for the poor masses.’113 This was a rare sentiment to see printed in an Australian paper but so too were the words of a South Vietnamese politician. In his address, Dan stated that the South Vietnamese were determined to take over the burden of the war from their Allies and were unconcerned by their departure. His claim to have ‘asked for it’ went unquestioned then and later in newspaper reports. Dan criticised the concentration on firepower and technology, and the destruction of ricefields rather than Vietcong.114 It was the political aspects of the war and the training of South Vietnamese soldiers that had needed attention and 276


the failure of the American approach had resulted in a deterioration of the South Vietnamese to pursue the war effectively. The massive build-up of American forces in 1965 had been opposed by South Vietnam: ‘We opposed it, we objected. South Vietnam, for this very special form of warfare did not need half a million American troops.’115 When one journalist felt compelled to ask Dan if he meant to criticise his American allies, the vacuum that Dan’s words were filling was clear. Dan replied ‘Certainly’.116 The reply, as well as the reporting of the exchange, indicated the special interest at least this aspect of Dan’s address had aroused. It represented a rarely discussed perspective of the war, a South Vietnamese perspective. Dan did not criticise the Australian effort. While he accepted their going, he stated that their presence ‘had been a sign of solidarity, important politically and psychologically’.117 His description of Australia’s commitment also carried the message of its political tokenism. The shallow interest of the Australian press in the Vietnamese was evident in the lack of investigation of the contradictory stances of Dan and the South Vietnamese Foreign Minister, Tran Van Lam, who was at that time involved in an Asian conference in Kuala Lumpur.118 Tran Van Lam was reported as describing the Australian decision to withdraw from Vietnam as ‘very sad’: I want the Australians to stay; they are doing a good job. As a friend of Australians I say don’t do that, not now—you are doing a great job and we need you.119 Tran Van Lam praised the civic action work of the Australians and their discipline. He claimed that Australian soldiers were well liked and he reportedly wondered ‘why the decision had been made’.120

Specialist Commentary There were a considerable number of feature articles on Vietnam and related issues in the papers at this time. The end of the year and the end of a decade encouraged some. Warner had just returned from Vietnam and wrote a series of articles that were carried in various newspapers and influenced editorials and letters to the editor in others.121 The heading on Warner’s report following Nixon’s address on 15 December read: ‘Yanks are going home for keeps’.122 It plainly The Beginning of Withdrawal

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dispelled any consideration of the warning by Nixon that enemy activity could influence the rate of American withdrawal. 123 Acknowledging that conjecture on how long the war would continue was speculative, Warner guessed it would end in 1972 or soon after: That may lead to a period in which the North and South will pursue their separate ways for some years but the final result is certain to be a unified Vietnam in which Hanoi’s voice is dominant.124 The article expressed Warner’s fear of the dominance of Communist nations in Asia. He believed that South-East Asian nations had the will for peace but, with the exception of Japan, did not have the means. The consistency of Warner’s understanding of the problem was expressed in 1969 as it had been in the 1950s—‘no one has found the way to cope with over-population, inadequate technical skills and lack of capital’.125 Warner’s reports still contained scaremongering, but there was also less reverence for America. As later writing by Warner would illustrate, his long association with Vietnam was producing an urgency in his reports for the Allies not to abandon South Vietnam, coupled with an acknowledgement that America was leaving and this meant the end for South Vietnam. Warner’s lack of optimism was expressed in other specialist commentary, although not always so explicitly. The articles of Peter Arnett and photographer Horst Faas, both Pulitzer Prize winners who had covered the war continually for seven years, exemplified the complexity of the war environment in Vietnam and accentuated the difficulties of defining the nature of the war. This was evident not only in the text of their reports, but also in their headlines. The first report began positively: This year, allied forces have accomplished the first major breakthrough since 1962 in wresting the Vietnamese countryside from the Viet Cong control and people are flowing back into long abandoned farmlands and hamlets.126 The heading ‘Sun shines at last for Viet peasants’ suggested the enthusiasm that news reports of American and Australian Government assessments carried. The next sentence warned about the build-up of 278


North Vietnamese forces: ‘Yet all the while North Vietnam has been building up its armed forces along South Vietnam’s borders. What these forces will do, as the United States continues to withdraw combat forces, is the big question for 1970 and later.’ The article continued in this way, an optimistic paragraph followed by a questioning one. ‘The momentum of the nation-wide breakthrough against the Viet Cong in the countryside is visible, measurable and continuing.’ The following sentence stated: ‘But there is also general agreement that if this momentum falters, as it has in the past because of ineptness or political division, there will be little chance for any pro-Western Government and society to survive in South Vietnam. There will be no time to try again.’127 The conclusion to the article asked common questions: Some questions governing Vietnam’s future cannot be answered now. Among them: will the Vietnamese run out of breath? Will the Americans run out of time? Will the North Vietnamese run out of patience?128 The article acknowledged improvements in the stability of the countryside in Vietnam but the overall position did not reflect optimism. It was the frame given in the title of the report that was immediately misleading and added to confusion as sentences of optimism followed by negative assessments led the reader through the complexity of the very fluid situation that was Vietnam at the end of 1969. On 31 December, the Age published the final report in the Arnett-Faas series. Again the heading, ‘Viet Cong in retreat’, prefaced in small print, led into the larger main heading, ‘Hanoi gathers its strength’.129 In this instance the heading was more reflective of content but only to readers who understood the difference between Viet Cong and Hanoi, a differentiation that the Australian Government, and reporting of their statements over the years of involvement, had helped to blur. Intelligence reports in Vietnam were establishing, according to Arnett, that North Vietnamese forces were being ‘assembled at the borders’ of South Vietnam and this action was being analysed as more than ‘just a show of North Vietnamese strength’.130 The reports from Arnett and Faas indicated that Viet Cong forces had been weakened but also acknowledged the willingness of Hanoi to fill The Beginning of Withdrawal

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the gap. Two important aspects of Hanoi’s strength were reportedly the freedom of movement established by the halt of bombing in November 1968, and the invulnerability of North Vietnamese troops in Cambodia, ‘which borders much of South Vietnam’.131 The report claimed that ‘all over the country, intelligence reports suggest Hanoi’s troops can be expected to push harder as their supply bases improve and come into full operation’.132 The positive conclusion for Allied involvement that the Viet Cong were losing support in South Vietnam was balanced against the warning that North Vietnam would not tolerate this development. Although Arnett asserted there was progress in the villages his description of the countryside offered a more negative assessment of the war: The people crowd in refugee centres along the main roads, wastelands, rutted highways and burned out villages still dominate the countryside. Some province chiefs feel that the great challenge of 1970 will be to interest the peasants in local politics.133 The Arnett-Faas articles were printed in the Canberra Times and the Age but did not receive the wide coverage that Warner’s articles did in December. The reports signalled the difficulty of acknowledging progress in the war in Vietnam, while at the same time signalling that it was only a matter of time, because Hanoi would win the war. The importance of the political nature of intervention was highlighted by George Ball, former United States Undersecretary of State. He also reflected a lack of optimism about an American-led victory. He reminded readers that it was political rather than military reasons that had taken the French out of Vietnam in 1954. The North Vietnamese had not forgotten that. Hanoi saw fulfilment of its hopes in the American withdrawal: ‘To them the announcement of our first withdrawal has confirmed their strategy, since, in spite of our perfunctory threats of re-escalation, they are sure we are on the way out’.134 Confirming his unstated, but obvious belief that the final victor in Vietnam would be Hanoi, he made a plea for the American Government to adjust to the reality in a way that would limit damage to America. The American Government should pursue pre-emptive education, claimed Ball, so that ‘if, for example, the government in 280


Saigon disintegrates and our troops are invited to leave the country— we will still have done all that anyone might reasonably have expected of us’.135 One of the three criteria Nixon had stated for justifying withdrawal was the progress of the peace talks in Paris. A short report from Paris on 21 December indicated that the North Vietnamese chief delegate, Mr Xuan Thuy, had ‘for the first time’ mentioned that the peace talks could break down.136 America’s failure to replace the high ranking Henry Cabot Lodge after his resignation the previous month had ‘angered’ Hanoi. Thuy had boycotted two hearings and stated that Hanoi was prepared for ‘any eventuality’. The report indicated that the North Vietnamese delegation assumed that failure to continue the talks could present a problem to the American Government that would affect its conduct of the war more than Hanoi’s. A twopage report from Paris, published in the Canberra Times on 31 December, stated that the chief negotiators from North Vietnam and representatives of the Viet Cong had not attended the Paris peace talks when they resumed after the Christmas break. The North Vietnamese were still annoyed at the lessening importance America had placed on the negotiations as an instrument for peace.137 While some papers had rejected the likelihood of the peace negotiations affecting Nixon’s timetable for withdrawal it is worth noting that it was Nixon who had publicly stressed their importance. Despite this, the publication of a few paragraphs announcing the difficulties being experienced in relation to the peace talks in late December 1969 did not attract Australian press interest or investigation.

A Sense of Certainty Emerges Assessments of why Australia had become involved in Vietnam and the willingness of some newspapers to confidently dismiss justifications of earlier years suggested an understanding that Australia’s commitment was coming to an end. Part of Senator Fulbright’s charge, initially presented by Clark Clifford after a fact-finding tour of Allies in 1968, compared Australia’s response to military aid in Vietnam with her willingness to commit so much more to World War II and concluded that Australia did not regard Vietnam as a serious threat to her security. The Age described this comparison as ‘the sheerest sophistry … The Australian Government has made no such claim about Vietnam. It was behaving like a loyal ally, and no more.’138 The Beginning of Withdrawal

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The Age acknowledged that Australia had made a ‘down payment to keep the ANZUS Pact flourishing’. Readers were reminded that the contribution was not just a one-way benefit. The Americans were saved from the embarrassment of appearing imperialistic in their intervention in Vietnam, where they could not wear a ‘U.N. uniform’. With Australia’s support they had been able to don ‘A SEATO hat for the occasion, and claim they were fighting to preserve the independence of South Vietnam against a communist invasion’.139 Bruce Grant reflected on past comment and reporting in Australia. He too accepted Fulbright’s criticism of Australia’s ‘token’ effort in Vietnam: If, as was so often said, the peace of the world, the peace of mind of South Vietnam and the security of Australian policy depended on the military outcome in Vietnam, there should have been no question that substantially more than some 8,000 Australian (and 550 New Zealand) troops needed to be made available.140 The willingness to accept Australia’s contribution as political rather than military was not new, but in December 1969 the tokenism of Australia’s gesture in South Vietnam was now continually raised in press commentary. This acknowledgement indicated the importance of the American alliance and maintenance of American forces in South-East Asia as Australia’s basis for involvement. This had always been asserted in press coverage but the claims of falling dominoes in the path of expansionist Communism, the moral obligations of SEATO and the right of the South Vietnamese people to decide their own government had also substantiated moral and defence requisites for involvement. The Australian recognised the political determinants of Allied policy in Vietnam and the lack of a Vietnamese context for policy direction. The special characteristic of Vietnam policy ‘was its non-military character … And, for the governments of all allies involved, what happens to South Vietnam in the long term has become secondary to what happens to themselves.’141 Warner expressed his frustration for this basis of Allied policy: The blind led the blind into the Vietnamese war and the blind are leading the blind out of it. To the Americans, 282


backing out of South East Asia as quickly as they can go, nothing matters more than this disengagement. But the Australian troops still have to live in and with the region. There, the withdrawal is seen for what it is: A political expediency caused not by any miraculous change in Vietnam itself—but by uncomfortable pressures at home.142 In an unusual approach the West Australian, in its Christmas editorial, was philosophical in reflecting on attitudes about the Vietnam conflict. It concluded that those for and against involvement were governed by Christian conscience that saw different solutions for achieving what all wanted—peace in Vietnam, ‘founded in charity and goodwill’. It was uncharacteristically definite in stating why Allied forces were leaving Vietnam: There is no point in being deceitful over Vietnam. President Nixon is withdrawing his troops and handing over to the South Vietnamese because President Johnson was unable to win peace on the battlefield or at the conference table.143 The editorial also showed the change in the need to publicly claim that Vietnam was important to world peace in December 1969. According to the West Australian, it was not in Vietnam that ‘the peace of the world’ would ‘be won or lost’.144 This was an unacknowledged denial of the opposite argument presented by the Government in earlier decisions and supported by most Australian newspapers. Bruce Grant concluded that realistic appraisal of the situation required withdrawal of Allied forces from South Vietnam where Australia’s intervention had already ‘destroyed the assumptions of our policies in South-East Asia’.145 Warner was insistent on making the basis of Australia’s intervention clear in December 1969, despite the fact that he had always claimed that it was the American alliance. Warner claimed that Australian policy from the fall of Dien Bien Phu in 1954 had been the maintenance of an American presence in SouthEast Asia. Also spurred to comment on Fulbright’s ‘barbed’ attack on Australian participation in the war, Warner acknowledged that ‘the Australian tactic of maximum applause with minimum participation The Beginning of Withdrawal

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was bound eventually to excite unfavourable comment, if not be self defeating’.146 Echoing past fears that he now saw as realised, he adopted a pessimistic view of the future for Australia in South-East Asia. Despite the consistency of Warner’s belief that American defeat in Vietnam would be worse for Australia than not to have engaged in Vietnam, the value of the statement had been in 1962 when it had been ignored: Above all, South Vietnam was not a domino in 1954, but a termite ridden half country ready to crumble, an event that might not have caused more than uneasy ripples through the rest of South-East Asia. Today the consequences of American failure will be immeasurably greater. Better not to have tried at all than to have tried and lost, for Vietnam is now of major importance and the consequences of defeat, in South-East Asia and elsewhere will be horrendous.147 The warnings carried in 1962 reports that questioned the danger of being identified with a ‘white man’s war’ were now being acutely felt as the withdrawal of Britain and America from Asia left Australia exposed to an environment that it had proclaimed as threatening. At this point, the fear of China as an immediate threat had virtually dissipated in coverage in Australian newspapers. Reports indicated that America was moving to a less hostile stance against China, partly because American businessmen were tired of being denied the value of Chinese markets for trade.148 The change in Australian attitude, although not universal, was evident in an editorial in the Age encouraging the Australian Government to move in advance of American initiatives. ‘Since we live on the fringe of Asia and already maintain commercial relations with China, our own foreign policy makers have an opportunity to lead, rather than follow, the mighty but perplexed ally.’149 The demand for initiatives that did not rely on American direction could equally be seen as a novel departure for the press itself. Despite the more concerted demands from the press for evidence of an independent Australian input into its Vietnam policy, it was the press that had been most consistent in relying on American direction to assess the value of Australian policy. In this, it had narrowed the considerations on Vietnam policy on the public agenda. 284


As Grant acknowledged, a change in American policy had resulted in a press questioning of long-held assumptions that the Labor Party could not be trusted with the American alliance: The Australian press has, I think without exception, accepted the view that the Liberal-Country Party governments are desirable in the interests of Australia’s security. Now that there is uncertainty about the determining factor in this, namely American policy, the choice is no longer easy to make.150 When that choice rested on parliamentary parameters, relegated to a choice simply between parties, the political dominance of public communication was accentuated. Grant also recognised that: There is room for major differences in Australia on the nature of our defence and foreign policies. But the argument about the American alliance has become destructive, for, the way it is conducted, Australians are divided on basic questions of national security about which there is, in reality, no significant disagreement.151 The press had helped to produce this illusory difference between Labor and Liberal-Country Party attitudes to the American alliance. The Labor Party’s opposition, as Calwell had always stated, was not against the alliance but against commitment to an essentially civil war, against conscription, and against the false pronouncements of the Government’s justification for involvement. The acceptance that the Labor Party more accurately mirrored American direction only affirmed the basis that Grant recognised. Some newspapers tentatively moved towards the acceptance of Labor as a viable Opposition. Perhaps sensing the need to justify this, they claimed that the party had changed and that Whitlam represented a new perspective and party, that the Labor Party was not the same as the one the press had rejected in the earlier 1960s. Also important was the fact that the Liberal Party was being forced to redress the basis of its policies in a period of change and its developing uncertainty could not be camouflaged because the command that Menzies had exercised over public communication had been dissipated by succeeding Liberal leaders. The Beginning of Withdrawal

285

The centrality of the American alliance in Australia’s involvement was made clear by Gorton’s announcement of phased withdrawal. Despite warnings that a change in the military progress in Vietnam could halt this course, specialist commentators acknowledged that the Allies would withdraw from South Vietnam. The acceptance highlighted the understanding of the political determinants of Australia’s involvement. Newspapers unhesitatingly admitted that the outcome of the conflict in South Vietnam would not affect Australian security. Specialist writers acknowledged that Australia had not enhanced its image in South-East Asia by having participated in the war in order to establish American goodwill. Both factors illustrated the lack of a South Vietnamese context for Australia’s involvement. While some newspapers boldly accepted the loss of some of the past justifications for involvement, others recognised questions about the morality of Australia’s commitment. The published comment asserting the political nature of Australia’s decisions and acknowledging the ‘tokenism’ of the Australian force, inadvertently reduced appreciation of the Army’s role in Vietnam. Despite comment praising the professionalism of Australian soldiers and the majority response from Australian newspapers that phased withdrawal should not be accepted if it harmed the security of the Australian troops, there was a definite understanding that the soldiers’ primary task had been to cement an alliance, rather than to fight for the freedom of South Vietnam and the overall security of the region from advancing Communism. The most significant aspect of this published realisation in Australian papers was its unquestioning acceptance without investigation in December 1969. John Murphy clearly balanced the impact of public opinion on the Australian Government’s decision to announce a withdrawal of troops in December 1969: The shift in public opinion may have been one consideration, but principally the conservatives were responding to pressure not from the streets but from the Americans, who were plainly—and unilaterally—changing the basis of foreign policy.152 The consideration Nixon and the American Congress gave to American public opinion would be a more realistic place to assess 286


the influence of the street on Australia’s Vietnam policy. The importance of the reporting of Vietnam issues in December 1969 was the obvious link between domestic and foreign policy. The link between the public’s involvement in the formerly sanctified area of foreign affairs that needed to be left to elected leaders in possession of all the facts had been challenged by public demonstrations against Australia’s participation in the war. The mutiny call, Whitlam’s letter to Chamberlain and the loading of the Jeparit had received more news coverage than Gorton’s first announcement on Australian withdrawal. The fact that Parliament was not sitting reduced political debate on the decision and emphasised the wider domestic debate. Despite this, the dominance of the politicians was still evident. What had changed was the freedom of commentary in assessing the policy and performance of both the Government and Opposition. While this development owed much to the change in American foreign policy, it also represented the freedom that came for the press when neither party was able to dominate through moral or political persuasion. Grant asserted that the press ‘has less inhibitions about the public’s right to know when it moves from foreign to domestic news’.153 When political direction is confused, the press gains the confidence and power to become a more influential player. In Australia the reporting of domestic and foreign policy in December became publicly entwined. This blurring increased press freedom and enriched commentary in 1969.

Notes 1 2 3

4

5 6 7

Freudenberg, A Certain Grandeur, p. 162. ibid., p. 166. Notes of an address, ‘A General View of Defence’, given by the Hon. Allen Fairhall, Minister for Defence, to the Liberal Party Candidates Conference in Sydney, 7 July 1969, p. 5. (Allen Fairhall file, Parliamentary Library) Petty’s response had been appreciated in Australian headquarters in Saigon. ‘Stapled to the board was a Bruce Petty cartoon from The Australian newspaper. It showed Australian Defence Minister Allen Fairhall tapping a dead battlefield digger on the bum and saying: “Liven up, there. We’ve got an unpredictable end to reach by an indefinite date!” ‘ (Frazer, Nasho, p. 164. The cartoon was published on p. 166.) B. Grant, ‘Labor should speak out on defence’, Age, 12 September 1969, ‘Public Affairs’. ‘A war on two fronts’, Canberra Times, 1 May 1965, editorial, p. 2. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press,’ p. 4. ibid.


287

8

9 10 11 12

13

14

15

16

17

18 19 20 21 22 23 24

25 26 27

28

29 30 31

Valuable insights about the complexity of Communist attempts to infiltrate and influence the Labor Party were raised by Kim Beazley, Labor member for Fremantle, WA, 1966, in his article, ‘Labor and Foreign Policy’, pp. 125– 34. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, pp. 4–5. ibid., p. 7. ibid., p. 8. ‘Where to now with defence?’, Australian, 18 November 1969, editorial, p. 10. Dates reduction in US forces in Vietnam, statement by Gorton, 9 June 1969, CNIA, vol. 41, pp. 332–3. T. Parkinson, ‘John Gorton, my place in history’, Australian, 26–27 February 1994, ‘The Weekend Review’, p. 4. Dates reduction in US forces in Vietnam, statement by Gorton, 9 June 1969, CNIA, vol. 41, p. 333. In an interview with the author (1984), Gorton expressed similar sentiments, claiming that he didn’t ‘like the bloody war’ and he was sure it could not ‘be won’. To the question ‘Why didn’t you withdraw the troops?’, Gorton replied: ‘I had to take the rest of the Cabinet with me, probably half the population anyway would say it was bad and we’d have been letting down the Americans who we depended on … and it wasn’t certain that we were going to be beaten’, although Gorton added he believed ‘we couldn’t possibly win’. American withdrawal from Vietnam, statement released by the Leader of the Opposition, Mr Whitlam, 9 June 1969, Canberra. See, for example, ‘First pull-out complete’, Age, 28 August 1969; ‘Fighting flares as first pull-out complete’, SMH, 28 August 1969. ‘Cooks thrown into battle as U.S. troops leave’, Australian, 28 August 1969. Australian, 27 August 1969. ‘Waiting for the right moment’, Australian, 26 August 1969, editorial, p. 8. ‘Chasing the old mirage in Vietnam’, Australian, 18 December 1969, p. 8. ‘Mr. Nixon’s strategy for peace’, Australian, 5 November 1969, editorial, p. 12. Petty, cartoon, Australian, 5 November 1969, p. 12. B. Grant, ‘Colour change for corpses’, Age, 27 November 1969, ‘Public Affairs’, p. 4. ‘Hawkish dove’, Age, 13 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. The Australian addressed the question of changed relations, but as in Grant’s article, there was little specific about how they would change. ‘One of the bonuses of an immediate end to American and Australian involvement in the war will be the restoration of a more realistic perspective in the alliance.’ (‘Liquidating a military ‘investment’, Australian, 15 December 1969, editorial, p. 6) B. Grant, ‘Senator Fulbright could be our ally’, Age, 13 December 1969, ‘Public Affairs’, p. 13. ‘Telling the facts’, Age, 11 December 1969, editorial, p. 7. ‘Labor is weak on defence’, Courier-Mail, 16 October 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Conscription was introduced because the only army of acceptable size Australia could get without conscription was the Salvation Army!’

288


32 33 34

35 36 37 38 39 40

41

42

43

44

‘Never in peacetime’, Courier-Mail, 16 October 1969, editorial, p. 2. ‘A timetable for our pull-out’, Courier-Mail, 28 November 1969, p. 2. ‘The job to be done in Vietnam’, Daily Telegraph, 5 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. On 16 December, the day Gorton made his announcement, the Daily Telegraph printed on p. 1, ‘Guerilla expert’s view South Viet. “Wins back control” ’. The report read: ‘The Saigon Government had won back control of the South Vietnamese provinces from the Viet Cong, Sir Robert Thompson said last night’. Daily Telegraph, 5 December 1969. ‘Vietnam: Time to get out’, Australian, 4 December 1969, p. 1. ibid. ibid. D. Brass, ‘For whom the bell tolls’, Australian, 4 December 1969, p. 10. R. Duffield, ‘What are we doing in Vietnam, Winning over hamlets between the battles’, Australian, 29 October 1969, p. 11. While not part of the study upon which this book is based, it is interesting to note that similar questions on civic action, the military and political perspectives were used to precipitate Fraser’s resignation and Gorton’s removal as Prime Minister in March 1971. ‘The evidence provided by letters to The Australian suggests that the overwhelming majority of those prepared to make personal decisions about their responsibility for Vietnam policy can no longer accept Australian involvement. In their view, and ours, there is no alternative to immediate withdrawal of Australian forces’. (‘Conscience and politics in collision’, Australian, 10 December 1969, editorial, p. 10) ‘Beyond the debate in Vietnam’, Australian, 26 March 1966, editorial, p. 6. See also, ‘A new factor in the Vietnam war’, Age, 24 March 1965, editorial. In the controversy that had developed over gas and napalm before Australia committed a battalion, the Age had argued ‘It will be necessary for Washington to explain precisely what it is doing in Vietnam, and why, and to assure the world that the bounds of accepted law and practice will not be violated’. For example, B. Grant, ‘Colour change for corpses’, Age, 27 November 1969, ‘Public Affairs’, p. 4; ‘Vietnam debt we must pay’, 3 December 1969; ‘That change in policy’, 6 December 1969, p. 13; ‘Australia reaches the turning point’, 17 December 1969, p. 6; ‘Dr. Dan lifts our hopes’, 20 December 1969, p. 11. Renouf argues that the Australian Government was out of touch with Washington intentions from the time of the Tet offensive in 1968. The news was calmly received in Canberra. When asked for a response to the situation in Vietnam, the Australian Government responded business as usual, stand firm, all that could be done because North Vietnam was looking for a military victory. But America reduced the bombing, and Johnson didn’t stand again. ‘The U.S. had decided not to stand firm. The announcement caused consternation in Canberra for the Australian Government was not given any advance notice, despite the desire recently expressed by the U.S. for better consultations with Australia.’ Gorton protested and the US replied that they meant Gorton to know at the same


289

45

46 47

48

49

50 51 52

53 54 55 56 57

58 59 60 61

62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69

70 71 72 73

time as the press. ‘As it was, the press knew before Gorton.’ (Renouf, The Frightened Country, pp. 266–7) B. Grant, ‘Australia reaches the turning-point’, Age, 17 December 1969, ‘Public Affairs’, p. 6. D. Warner, Courier-Mail, 30 December 1969. B. Grant, ‘Australia reaches the turning-point’, Age, 17 December 1969, ‘Public Affairs’, p. 6. Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, p. 586, entry for 14 December 1969. Following Gorton’s announcement, McMahon had rung Howson to report that ‘people had thought that Gorton’s speech was terrible and that he had lost further ground by the way in which he put over this extremely important announcement in such a perfunctory manner’ (p. 586, entry for 16 December). Howson’s response must have been tempered by his understanding of the individual rivalry between McMahon and Gorton at this time. ‘Withdrawal: But how and when?’, Australian, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 12. ‘Phasing out’, SMH, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. Petty, cartoon, Australian, 17 December 1969, p. 12. D. Solomon, ‘Australia’s quiet about turn’, Australian, 22 December 1969, ‘Politics’, p. 7. ibid. ‘Our turn next time’, Advertiser, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. Atchison, cartoon, Advertiser, 17 December 1969, p. 2. ‘Withdrawal: But how and when?’, Australian, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 12. ‘Getting out’, West Australian, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 6. ‘U.S. Senate’s fiat’, West Australian, 19 December 1969, editorial, p. 6. ‘Elusive peace’, West Australian, 25 December 1969, editorial, p. 6. ‘Australia joins the pull-out’, Courier-Mail, 17 December, 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Long road home from Vietnam’, Herald, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Drift from Vietnam’, Canberra Times, 12 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ‘Irresponsible politics’, Canberra Times, 18 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ‘Phasing out’, SMH, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. The SMH often relegated its more important editorial points to parentheses. ‘Phasing out’, SMH, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ibid. Peter Michelmore had asked to be assigned to Vietnam in 1967 but the SMH had refused to send him. Reporting for the SMH from New York, his copy became increasingly opposed to the war. (Souter, Company of Heralds, pp. 431–2)

290


74

75 76 77 78

79

80

81 82 83

84

85 86

87

88

89

90 91

92

93 94

95 96

Letter from Pringle to Lou Leck, managing editor, SMH, October 1969. Cited in Souter, Company of Heralds, p. 433. ibid., p. 434. Letter from Leck to Pringle, ibid. ‘The turning tide’, SMH, 19 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. See, for example, ‘Sharp criticism of Thieu in Saigon senate’, SMH, 23 December 1969, p. 8; ‘M.P.’s burn in effigy’, SMH, 22 December 1969, p. 3. ‘Call to mutiny, PM condemns union view on troops’, Canberra Times, 17 December 1969, p. 3. See also, Saunders, ‘The Trade Unions in Australia and Opposition to Vietnam and Conscription: 1965–73’, p. 70. Saunders, ‘The Trade Unions in Australia and Opposition to Vietnam and Conscription: 1965–73’, p. 53. ‘Unions urge mutiny by Viet troops’, Age, 16 December 1969, p. 1. ibid. A poster printed by Australian soldiers in Vietnam entitled ‘Cry of the dry digger’ illustrated a digger holding his throat, gasping for a beer, ‘No Grog till ‘70 mate!’ It helped to explain the emotiveness of the issue. ‘ “Disloyalty”, claims P.M.’, Daily Telegraph, 17 December 1969, p. 6 (cont’d from p. 1). ‘The call to mutiny’, Advertiser, 18 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ‘Change on the “mutiny” front’, Advertiser, 22 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ‘On mutiny’, Courier-Mail, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ‘The president-elect of the Australian Council of Trade Unions (Mr. Hawke) left the meeting before the mutiny resolution was discussed, but he should never have attended it.’ ‘Mutiny call repudiated’, Australian, 22 December 1969, p. 1. ‘It was sent last Thursday and released in Canberra last night by Mr. Whitlam’s office.’ See p. 1 reports, 22 December 1969. The letter had been sent to Chamberlain on 18 December but it was Whitlam’s office in Canberra that finally made it public on the evening of 21 December. ‘Change on the “mutiny” front’, Advertiser, 22 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. H. Armfield, ‘Whitlam attacks union call for mutiny in Vietnam’, Age, 22 December 1969, p. 1. ‘Whitlam rejects W.A. call to lead war protests’, West Australian, 22 December 1969, p. 1. Freudenberg, A Certain Grandeur, p. 169. Theophanous, Australian Democracy in Crisis: A Radical Approach to Australian Politics, p. 292. ibid., p. 293. H. Armfield, ‘Vintage year for Labor’, Age, 27 October 1969. This was the election when Paul Keating entered Parliament. The following comment is interesting in view of Armfield’s assessment of new Labor and Keating’s future success. Keating had no ‘swag of degrees’. He was described as ‘25 years old, wears a $300 gold fob watch in the vest pocket of his slim line, navy blue suit. Both in dress and his views he is a mixture of the old and the new. And he has the world of politics at his feet’. (J. Glascott, ‘Dedication and ideas in a “safe” seat’, SMH, 9 October 1969)


291

97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104

105

106

107

108

109

110 111 112 113 114

115

116 117

118

119

120 121

‘Vietnam and muddle’, Age, 7 November 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Mutiny and Mr. Whitlam’, SMH, 23 December 1969, editorial, p. 2. ibid. ‘Getting out’, West Australian, 17 December 1969, editorial, p. 6. ibid. Mitchell, cartoon, West Australian, 17 December 1969, p. 6. F. E. Chamberlain, State Secretary, Australian Labor Party, ‘Cartoonist and war in Vietnam’, West Australian, 17 December 1969, ‘Letters to the Editor’, p. 6. F. E. Chamberlain, ‘Labor’s attitude to Vietnam’, West Australian, 18 December 1969, ‘Letters to the Editor’, p. 6. See Payne, ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War’, vol. 2, Appendix II, ‘Reportage following Prime Minister Gorton’s announcement that Australian troops would be withdrawn from Vietnam, 17–31 December 1969’, p. 251. Mitchell was determined to denigrate the unions on their Vietnam stance. ‘Mutiny in political perspective’, Australian, 23 December 1969, editorial, p. 6. D. Solomon, ‘Australia’s quiet about turn’, Age, 22 December 1969, ‘Politics’, p. 6. Ky visited Australia in January 1967. The Australian press turnabout on Ky indicated the value of first-hand communication. This was analysed by the author in a paper presented to the Australian War Memorial History Conference in 1989 entitled, ‘Our Faceless Ally: The Australian Press Perception of Vietnam During the War’. Petty, cartoon, Australian, 18 December 1969, p. 8. D. Warner, ‘Dr. Dan, the hope for Vietnam’, Herald, 16 December 1969, p. 4. ibid. ibid. ‘S. Vietnamese could take over: Minister, Aust. presence important’, SMH, 17 December 1969, p. 7. ‘Withdrawal certain, says Viet minister’, Australian, 17 December 1969, p. 4. ibid. ‘S. Vietnamese could take over: Minister, Aust. presence important’, SMH, 17 December 1969, p. 7. See also ‘10 months ago’, Daily Telegraph, 17 December 1969, p. 1. While speculative, it was probably this fact that resulted in the Foreign Minister’s comment being sought. ‘ “Sad” over decision by Gorton’, Courier-Mail, 18 December 1969, p. 4. The Minister’s comment was highlighted as a quote of the year in the Age where the majority of comments chosen were related to Vietnam. (Age, 27 December 1969, p. 6) ‘ “Sad” over decision by Gorton’, Courier-Mail, 18 December 1969, p. 4. A few months earlier Duffield had also visited Vietnam and written three articles for the Age assessing the Australian military task in Vietnam and the political environment. See, for example, ‘Winning over hamlets

292


122

123

124

125 126

127

128 129

130 131 132 133

134 135 136 137 138 139 140

141

142

143 144 145

146 147 148

between the battles’, Age, 29 October 1969, p. 11; ‘Can the Saigon government survive?’, Age, 30 October 1969. D. Warner, ‘Yanks are going home for keeps’, Courier-Mail, 19 December 1969, p. 5. ‘Hanoi could make no greater mistake than to assume that an increase in violence will be to its own advantage. If I conclude that increased enemy action jeopardises our remaining forces in Vietnam, I shall not hesitate to take strong and effective measures to deal with that situation. This is not a threat.’ (USIS Official Text, ‘Text of President Nixon’s Address on Vietnam, 3 November 1969’, pp. 8–9) The Canberra Times published the full text of Nixon’s address. See ‘Mr. Nixon’s progress report on “the plan for peace” ’, Canberra Times, 17 December 1969, p. 15. D. Warner, ‘Yanks are going home for keeps’, Courier-Mail, 19 December 1969, p. 5. ibid. P. Arnett and H. Faas, ‘Sun shines at last for Viet peasants’, Age, 29 December 1969. See also ‘Human side of a war: Viet Cong losing grip on people’, Canberra Times, 30 December 1969, p. 6. P. Arnett and H. Faas, ‘Sun shines at last for Viet peasants’, Age, 29 December 1969. ibid. ‘Viet Cong in retreat, Hanoi gathers its strength,’ Age, 31 December 1969, p. 7. ibid. ibid. ibid. P. Arnett and H. Faas, ‘Human side of a war, Viet Cong losing grip on people’, Canberra Times, 30 December 1969, p. 6. G. Ball, ‘War plan must change’, Age, 24 December 1969, p. 5. ibid. ‘Are peace talks over? Hanoi asks’, Age, 22 December 1969, p. 4. ‘Peace talks resume’, Canberra Times, 31 December 1969, p. 5. ‘Hawkish dove’, Age, 13 December 1969, editorial, p. 13. ibid. B. Grant, ‘Senator Fulbright could be our ally’, Age, 13 December 1969, ‘Public Affairs’, p. 13. ‘Chasing the old mirage in Vietnam’, Australian, 18 December 1969, editorial, p. 8. D. Warner, ‘Advice and training a fair “exchange” for Aust. withdrawal’, SMH, 18 December 1969, p. 1. ‘Elusive peace’, West Australian, 25 December 1969, p. 6. ibid. B. Grant, ‘Senator Fulbright could be our ally’, Age, 13 December 1969, ‘Public Affairs’, p. 13. D. Warner, ‘The Australians in Vietnam’, SMH, 30 December 1969, p. 6. ibid. For example, H. Salisbury, ‘U.S. unlatches door to China’, Age, 22 December 1969, p. 5.


293

149

150 151

152 153

‘Far flung armies’, Age, 3 November 1969, editorial, p. 2. The editorial asserted that ‘Washington is shifting its sights and investigating the possibility of armed but peaceful, coexistence, not only with the Soviet but at a later date, with China’. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, p. 8. B. Grant, ‘Confusion as we retreat’, Age, 9 July 1969, ‘Public Affairs’. Note the date and title of this article. Murphy, Harvest of Fear: A History of Australia’s Vietnam War, p. 243. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, p. 8.

294


7

Conclusion

The scars of the Vietnam War were deep and enduring, particularly for the Australian military. One lesson they learnt was the need to influence media coverage. Alan Wrigley’s conclusions in a 1990 report to the Minister of Defence, entitled The Defence Force and the Community: A Partnership in Australia’s Defence, accentuate the awareness of the military experience in Vietnam and the determination to obliterate the negatives learnt there. He warns against the pawn-like use of Australia’s military by politicians for political rather than military purposes. The report’s conclusion links the importance of public and political attitudes to defence: If a government is to set out to involve the Australian community more in defence, two important issues need to be addressed at the start. The first concerns the state of mind of governments … The second concerns the state of mind of the community, because if people are to be involved they will want to feel that what is being done about defence makes sense and that what they are being asked to become involved with really matters. Taking what governments think first, it is important to understand that when governments make their military

power more dependent on the support of the community—for dependency comes with involvement—they risk limiting their ability to use that power for political purposes. Political purpose here means the pursuit of most of the things beyond the defence of sovereignty that governments are inclined to call ‘national interests’. While there can be little doubt about the community’s support for the defence of sovereignty, the same cannot always be said about national interests.1 Wrigley’s determination to differentiate between the defence of ‘national’ and ‘sovereign’ interests encapsulates the essence of Australia’s Vietnam experience and the resultant confusion that permeated interpretations about the roles of government, military, press and public, in that experience. Thirty years on, in 1995, the Australian noted that the lessons learnt from Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam War included ‘the need to clearly define military objectives which are achievable; the need to ensure that the objectives are consistent with the national interest and capable of being explained to and supported by the Australian people’. 2 Analysis of the press coverage during Australia’s involvement in Vietnam suggests that the overriding political priorities overwhelmed any premise for military effectiveness. The press in Australia, particularly in Canberra, by emphasising the vital political basis of Australia’s involvement, unwittingly undermined the importance of the military aspect of commitment, not in any way denigrating Australian military personnel or their achievements in Vietnam but failing to examine the basis of, rather than merely report, Australia’s military role. The tension between political and military demands was an often-underestimated issue in press reporting. Barry Gillman, who served for many years in Army Public Relations, as well as in Vietnam, resigned to become Fraser’s press secretary a short time before the Defence Minister’s controversial resignation and Gorton’s replacement as Prime Minister by William McMahon. The beginnings of this significant row were publicly linked to the winding-down of civic action, the building of the infrastructure for villages in Vietnam. In the end, claimed Gillman, ‘Vietnam became a running battle between the military and the politicians. One believed that the other was 296


letting them down. Ministers weren’t giving their fullest support to the people in Vietnam.’3 Military disaffection with the politicians and press has persisted since the end of the war, as has political criticism of the role of the press in encouraging publication of public dissent and supposedly focusing on the horror of the war. The criticism of an oppositional press from both, within the confines of their individual interest, is not evident in the analysis of press coverage of key policy decisions and the most significant controversy reported in the Australian press between 1962 and 1969. The political ‘tokenism’ of Australia’s military commitment had been noted in Australian reports and comment from 1962. Australia’s military effort in Vietnam continues to be described as ‘token’ as illustrated in 1995, for example, in an article from Greg Sheridan, foreign editor for the Australian: The Australian contribution was more symbolic than military. Indeed the real criticism of Australian policy makers over Vietnam is that, having declared Vietnam vital to Australia’s national interests, their actual effort in Vietnam was tokenistic.4 In 1969, with the announcement of Australia’s intention to withdraw, the political determinant of the basis of intervention became clear. Throughout the war, the Australian military perspectives of involvement had been minimised in reporting. There were endless reports on Australian military activities in Vietnam and many features on their civic action programs. These varied in quality and substance. The relationship between soldiers and long-term correspondents was often mutually beneficial. There were few press attempts to establish the relationship between Australian military operations and those of the wider war, a determination of role that was often directed by Australian editors.5 This press limitation reflected the political reality, effectively asserted by Frank Frost in his study of the role of the Australian Task Force in Phuoc Tuy province. The ‘political decision to commit forces to Vietnam in the interests of Australia’s perceived security and foreign policy interests did not translate readily into a coherent or effective military role on the ground in Phuoc Tuy’.6 Conclusion

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Australian reporters in Vietnam gained considerable information from military sources. However, Canberra’s tight control of information from the military there is evident in the fact that press releases from the Army in Vietnam were sent to the Department of Army for final rewrites and/or clearance. While lapses did occur, officially, no Australian military commander was allowed to speak to the press without permission. According to Major General Alan Stretton, ‘they wouldn’t want to’ because of the inherent risk of being misunderstood or misquoted.7 Although there was a ‘lot of off-the-record information in Vietnam’ to Australian reporters there, information was tightly controlled in Canberra. Even Sir Thomas Daly spoke of the personal public restrictions he himself faced, although he did admit that he passed on background information to ‘trusted’ journalists, such as ‘Warner and Ian Fitchett, to name two’.8 Returning from Vietnam in early 1968, Major General Vincent addressed the National Press Club. According to Daly, there was no one else who could have spoken on Vietnam with any sense of authority in Australia at that time.9 In 1969 Warner claimed that even historians with access to all the official diplomatic, political and military secrets that Canberra had ‘guarded so jealously, and often so foolishly’ would find it hard to evaluate the worth of Australia’s Vietnam contribution. He asserted that although ‘the Australian Government needed an informed public, it deliberately sought to seal off the channels of information to the point where Australian soldiers, with important stories to tell, were afraid to speak’.10 Effective military public relations were also limited by the context of Australia’s involvement. The complexity of a changing international and domestic environment did little to bridge the gap between military and political aspirations in Vietnam. Hammond explains the development in America of hostility between the military, press and politicians as a process of change that was reflected rather than initiated by the American press: In the end, what happened in Vietnam between the U.S. Government and military on the one hand, and the news media on the other was symptomatic of what happened in the United States as a whole. At the beginning of the war, the main elements in American society moved in a direction that represented the greatest perceived good, 298


toward containment of Chinese and Soviet ambitions in South-East Asia by taking a stand in South Vietnam. Although prone at times to believe the worst of officialdom, the American news media both reflected and reinforced that trend, replaying official statements on the value of the war and supporting the soldier in the field, if not always his generals. With time, under the influence of many deaths and contradictions, directions changed. Significant portions of the leadership in American society moved to repudiate the earlier decision. Cueing to that trend, if not to the sources within the elite, the press again followed suit but the U.S. Government and military lacked the ability to do the same. Remaining behind in South Vietnam to retrieve whatever national face they could, those of their members most emotionally tied to the failed policy fixed their anger upon the news media, the most visible exponent of the society that appeared to have rejected them.11 There are a number of salient similarities between the American experience as described by Hammond and the Australian press performance. Initially, the support for the Government espoused in the press partly rested on fear of an expansionist China and monolithic Communism. This was readdressed when involvement in Vietnam and Malaysia, as well as the realisation that Britain was leaving SouthEast Asia, led to increased awareness and finally questioning of long-held prejudices. American reconsideration also hastened Australian reassessment. ‘By 1968, the old slogans—the China bogey and yellow peril—were no longer finding the same resonance in the electorate.’12 As Labor emerged, more attuned to the direction of American policy, the Coalition Government in Australia found it difficult to change direction. McMahon and Gorton, according to Whitlam, ‘were beaten in the end, not so much by the resurgence of Labor as by the deadweight of the Menzies legacy and the sullen opposition of those in the conservative ranks who claimed possession of the Menzies legacy to undermine his nominal heirs and successors’.13 As one example, Whitlam claimed that when Gorton tried to ‘reduce Australia’s military involvement in Vietnam, in short, to act in a contemporary and relevant way as Prime Minister of Australia, his number was up’.14 Gorton acknowledged the difficulty Conclusion

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of changing party attitudes as quickly as the world was changing around it. ‘I felt almost physically, a great weight sitting on my shoulders … Somehow or other an impression had built up that I was going to change everything overnight. I knew I couldn’t. I knew also, though not so clearly as I did later, the difficulty of changing an organisation’s basic approach to the policies and attitudes needed in the present … too much was being expected too quickly.’ 15 The demise of the Government, in relation to Vietnam policy, was not just the result of the ‘deadweight of the Menzies legacy’, but the inability of politicians to change policy and retain credibility. Years later Reid asserted that the change in press attitude to involvement owed something to Gorton’s interpretation that ‘Fortress Australia’ was more morally feasible than fighting in Vietnam. Gorton’s view was also pragmatic, in that he came to believe that the war was unwinnable, claimed Reid: He was a strong Australian nationalist and he resented what he believed was the dominance that the US was acquiring over political thought and expressed it in various ways. He resented the patronising attitude of the Americans. Gorton, in a way, was a kind of catalyst in that thinking.16 Gorton’s role in changing the mood of Australian debate on involvement was largely ignored by a press intent on criticising his statements and actions in terms of American reaction. At the same time, commentary in the quality press was relentless by 1969 in its exposure of government uncertainty and its failure to provide a coherent policy. The importance politicians place on maintaining the appearance of continuity is noted in Hallin’s analysis of Johnson’s handling of American escalation: Johnson thus found it necessary to engage in a continuous and often elaborate effort to manage the news, the purpose of which was to preserve an appearance of continuity and inevitability, to make each new step in the growing American involvement appear as though it constituted ‘no change of policy’ and hence required no public discussion.17

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The Liberal Party in Australia lost credibility partly because it was perceived to have been forced to change its policy on Vietnam. The Government’s predicament was compounded by its failure to publicly address the changes occurring in American policy and attitudes towards Vietnam and China. Press reporting of policy exemplified Tiffen’s assertion that Australian decision-making responded to American direction and ‘conformity with America was the primary political test of a policy’.18 Press acceptance of Labor’s Vietnam policy in the late 1960s represented a continuing affirmation of American policy. The Australian press had rejected that direction from Labor when it pre-empted American policy. The press demanded evidence from politicians that they were capable of producing an Australian foreign policy and yet the very difficulty that beguiled politicians, the perceived need for the American alliance, had yet to free the press in 1969. The centrality of the political agenda dominates conclusions about coverage in America and is affirmed in this analysis of Australian coverage. Faulkner, who researched American news media reporting of the Vietnam War, claims there is little argument in American scholarship with the view that the government is the dominant agenda-setting source, and that in the early years the press supported government. Throughout the fifteen-year American phase of the revolution in Vietnam, the news media reacted to actions and statements by government spokesmen in both Washington and Saigon, and rarely initiated the agenda for reporting.19 The ability to set the agenda is a powerful tool for those seeking to dominate the framing of public information and public debate. This study illustrates the success of government in setting press agenda when one political party enjoys press and public support. The capacity of government to exercise this control is strengthened by conventional determinants of news values, in particular, the value placed on the statements and actions of political leaders. In 1962 the political agenda was set by strategic leaks from the Government to specialist political journalists. Political control was assured by the involvement of a high ranking American, Rusk, and by press concentration on decisions made at the ANZUS conference, which occurred at the same time as the Coral Sea celebrations. Further control was shown by the formal announcement of the decision to send advisers after Parliament had risen and key politicians were whisked Conclusion

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away to overseas commitments. The technique of announcing decisions at the end of parliamentary sittings, or after them, strengthened the Government’s control of the agenda. When Holt confidently set his public agenda, as deliberate as any, at the beginning of a parliamentary session, he misread the emotive potential of his announcement. The timing of the announcement suggested that the Government hoped to enhance the necessity and importance of the escalation decision, creating a public image of responsible government. However, the public and political response reduced the hoped-for solemnity and support to determined, but chaotic, opposition. By the end of March, as shown in Howson’s diary,20 government members were looking to reduce media attention on Vietnam-related issues that the debate in Parliament had produced. Lynch responded to information already public in his attempt to set a press agenda for favourable personal publicity. The experience of both Lynch and Holt showed that setting the press agenda was easier than maintaining dominance over the resultant response. It also showed that neither politician had the political acumen or ability to frame political messages as Menzies could in the Australian press. The 1965 announcement displayed elaborate and subtle orchestration of the press agenda. Notwithstanding the divided nature of the response illustrated in the news pages of Australian dailies to Menzies’ announcement of a battalion, and the pressured timing of his announcement, the majority assessment of press commentary was acceptance. Much has been made of the Prime Minister’s lack of control of the announcement on 29 April 1965. Menzies had decided earlier that was the date he would make the announcement. It was made to a depleted House in an evening session before a weekend break. A New South Wales election was an important event to balance media concentration on Menzies’ announcement. Through published replies to the bishops’ letters, Menzies had carefully explained why Australia needed to be involved in Vietnam. His mastery over the debate by placing justifications for involvement in the moral arena stifled credible opposition. Political longevity also afforded him enviable control of the press agenda. In his ability to manipulate and control, Menzies exemplified the importance of the individual in successful political dominance. In a study of the relationship between press and presidents and the resultant newspaper coverage during periods of crisis, Brigitte Narcos concluded that the ‘manner in which 302


a president and his administration handle a particular crisis situation also influences domestic reaction and media coverage’.21 There was a strong press demand for the withdrawal of Australian troops before Gorton’s announcement in December. However, Gorton made his announcement of Australia’s policy change in an environment that limited discussion. It followed an announcement from Nixon the day before of America’s intention to continue withdrawals from Vietnam. It was not made during a parliamentary session, but rather in the ‘silly season’, a week before Christmas. The timing coincided with internal Labor disputes on Vietnam and union activity that, while accentuating interest in Vietnam, were proving an embarrassment for Labor. The combined result was a lack of coverage and lack of examination of Australia’s critical change in policy. The initial commitment is a vital time for government to gain press and public acceptance, not least because of the difficulty of changing policy once it has been adopted. The dominance of the government as the source for information when a new foreign policy direction is being introduced increases political potential for ascendancy over the framing of the debate. Equally significant for political control of the agenda, as shown in May 1962, was the introduction of a new policy direction into a community lacking the understanding or interest to respond. In the absence of any public or political debate the role of the press became two-fold. It carried the news as communicator from politician to public and it also, through comment, pursued the only public inquiry into the propriety of the Government’s intentions. While acknowledging the support given by the press to Government policy, it is still significant that the challenges offered by the press were not reinforced by public or political response. The news pages offered no support for editorials that questioned the information carried. The role of ‘watchdog’ or ‘guardian’ is not a role that the press can fulfil successfully independent of response from others within the communication process. In 1962 the political control of the news pages negated the effectiveness of press initiatives in commentary. It also illustrated the fundamental lack of diversity in press sources. Peter Braestrup, a reporter who wrote one of the first major analyses of media coverage of the Tet offensive in 1968, believed that the press and television media were looking to the President to define Conclusion

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and respond to the crisis situation.22 Braestrup attributed what he termed ‘media malfunction’ during the Tet crisis to Johnson’s failure to set the agenda. During the furore that developed in Parliament following Holt’s announcement in 1966, the press did look to the Government to ‘provide a coherent response’ but it was the press that recognised the lack of coherency and the consequences for Government support if it failed to regain control of the public debate on conscription and escalation. Press reaction was to encourage Holt to exert control over response by articulating more strongly his government’s need for escalation. While this was the essential aspect that needed to be considered, the more emotive and moral issue of conscription became the central focus for politicians and public. However, it was the emotionalism of the debate in Parliament, intensified in its urgency because of the by-election for Kooyong, that led to press concentration on political news from Parliament. A parliamentary sitting provides continuation and concentration on political conflict and political determinants of debate and in 1966 this helped to remove other voices from the front pages of Australian newspapers. Again, there was evidence of a lack of use of diverse sources by the press. The vitality of the commentary in Australian newspapers, particularly the Age, in late 1969, illustrated the strength that could be exerted by specialist journalists when no single political voice dominated. Braestrup notes the need for governments to remain focused if they want to maintain control over public information: President Johnson did not grab the centre stage to describe the situation in clear terms and what he was going to do about it, he left a vacuum, which was filled by his critics, and by people who had been worried all along about the Vietnam War and the lack of a White House decision.23 Hallin asserts that it might, in fact, be considered a general law of American politics that once an issue is on the political agenda, the activity of the press on that issue varies inversely with that of the administration, receding when the administration speaks—especially the person of the president—and expanding to fill the vacuum of leadership when it is silent.24 There is a danger in generalising about the ability of the press, and/or its willingness to fill a vacuum created 304


by government silence once an issue is on the public agenda. Analysis of the coverage of the initial announcement to send advisers indicates that, while the press filled a vacuum in public and political debate by providing consideration of the Government’s intention, it did not appear in the absence of what it determined as news, to be able to prolong that commentary. With the exception of the Australian, newspapers did support the Government in the policy decisions of escalation analysed but always with expressed reservations. The Canberra Times raised doubts about the importance of the political/military imbalance in the commitment of troops. Many papers, particularly the SMH, the Australian and the Age, challenged the lack of an Australian basis to the Government’s foreign and defence policies. The Australian raised doubts about the morality of the means involved in the achievement of Allied victory. These represented significant challenges but the intermittency with which they were published reduced their impact. So did the lack of consistency. In 1962 the Age had challenged the validity of using SEATO as a justification for intervention. In 1965 it demanded that Labor understand the necessity of fulfilling obligations under that treaty in Vietnam. Equally significant was the fact that these papers were unwilling to challenge the major themes justifying intervention—falling dominoes and the American alliance—from which secondary justifications flowed. The power of the Australian’s opposition to military involvement in Vietnam had, like the Opposition’s stance, lost impact because of the acceptance by both that Australia needed the American alliance. From the decision in 1965, the only political consensus in Australia on the details of involvement in Vietnam was the need for the American alliance. Labor Party dissent to the policy of involvement in 1965 and 1966 was met with rejection by all newspapers, even though the basis for that rejection varied. Hallin illuminates the importance of political solidarity on press coverage in America, a factor that also affected Australian press perspectives of legitimacy of political positions held on involvement in Vietnam: The behaviour of the media … is intimately related to the unity and clarity of the government itself, as well as to the degree of consensus in the society at large. This is not to say that the role of the press is purely reactive … But it is Conclusion

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also clear that the administration’s problems with the ‘fourth branch of government’ resulted in large part from political divisions at home.25 By falsely exaggerating partisan differences between Opposition and Government support for the American alliance, the press undermined consideration for alternative views on Australian involvement. The responsibility for this eventuality also rested with politicians and their consideration of press agenda: Australians and Americans, having two-party political systems and uninhibited media, are both prone to discuss issues in extreme and at times hysterical terms. The rhetoric tends to exaggerate the partisan differences. In neither country, however, are changes of government or the range of views between parties likely to reverse substantial national objectives.26 The diversity of opinion among individuals within the Labor Party for involvement produced a public perception of disunity. In contrast, there was no voice within the Government that raised any cautionary considerations, though reflection in later years would change this. The Government spoke as one. The press supported the Government.27 The pervasiveness of the political environment in Australian coverage was also evident in the reporting of the water torture incident. In analysing British press reports of the Gulf conflict in 1987, Philip Robins asserted that ‘one can draw general conclusions about what areas of news the papers find most important. Top of the list, … is the domestic story or anything with a strong British dimension.’28 The water torture coverage was directly linked to the ‘magic ingredient of a domestic news perspective’.29 It involved Australian soldiers and the, perhaps exaggerated, perception of Australia’s national image. The responsibility for coverage, however, is not solely determined by press understanding of the interest such reports will evoke. Politicians were responsible for the concentrated and lengthy coverage of the water torture incident. While the domestic element is central to the intrinsic interest of such reports, so too is the concentration on identifiable figures and easily understood contexts for 306


debate and opinion. Not least, reports involving morality excite personal interpretations and the sense of involvement by the wider community. The definition of the importance of the water torture incident by two Canberra Press Gallery journalists illustrates the similarity of their responses. Reid’s immediate response to questions about the reporting of the water torture controversy was: ‘I remember that story, got Lynch into trouble’.30 Reid claimed that pressmen did not determine the length of time the incident was reported. In a simplistic but effective explanation he stated that coverage had developed because ‘it happened’, there was a ‘furore’, ‘Lynch made a fool of himself’, then there was an inquiry which proved that ‘Lynch had made a real “aleck” of himself’. The story had run because it was ‘continuous’, it ‘kept changing’.31 Brown, when asked what were the significant incidents that he remembered about the coverage of the war replied: ‘The water torture incident, that was an anti-Government story’.32 For both, it was the domestic political significance that dominated their interpretations and recollections. In their analysis of the relationship between press and president, Kern et al. claim that although the presidential leadership had a strong impact ‘on press treatment of critical issues, the overall generalisation emerges that the president dominates press coverage primarily in situations where competing interpretations of events are not being espoused by others who journalists consider important’.33 In considering the quality of information conveyed in the Australian press, this final factor was vital. While the dominance of the American alliance as a basis for intervention limited the strength of competing viewpoints during Australia’s involvement, little attempt was made to consistently report international perspectives that questioned American or Australian intervention.34 Even reports that were printed rarely came from Australian reporters. In numerous other ways, as Tiffen asserts, the press reduced its effectiveness in one of its ‘main political’ roles, ‘as a forum for diverse commentary and analysis’.35 The failure of the Australian press, with the exception of commentary from the few specialist foreign correspondents, to examine the aspirations of the Vietnamese seriously weakened the quality of coverage. It was in the context of the American presence and influence in Vietnam and Australia’s attitude to the American alliance that the aspirations of the Vietnamese were perceived, evaluated and reported Conclusion

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in the Australian press. In 1962 Rusk’s judgement of the situation in Vietnam, which the Government supported, was reported far more prominently than the viewpoint of the South Vietnamese. One view was offered, and in fact orchestrated; the other had to be sought. Australian press coverage illustrated that it was largely a selectively reflective institution during the years of involvement, a characteristic governed at times by a lack of source diversity. Examining the media and political relationship in Britain, Jean Seaton concluded that ‘the relationship between political communication and the media remains complex. Broadcasting and newspapers do not create changes in mood and view; they are more important as elaborators and communicators of moods and views developed elsewhere. They also remain parasitic. Nor is it easy to define what their influence is’.36 Commenting on the ability of the press ‘to affect the circumstances’ in which Australian foreign policy was to be decided during the late 1960s, Grant linked the reflective nature of the press with its influence: Can the newspapers stop Australia from turning inward, from becoming isolationist?’ They can’t, if that is what most Australians want … They can’t if the political parties cannot reach agreement on foreign policy and if the party in power is not convinced of the need for an active policy. But newspapers do have an influence, in creating a mood, a climate of opinion, within which government can operate.37 Leon Sigal points out the complexity of the role of the press as communicator of a mood or climate, and the influence it exerts through the perception that it fulfils this role. While stating that politicians look to the press to provide information about their environment, Sigal also concludes that inside ‘the capital (Washington) the press may be an important means of circulating dissenting opinions, but primarily those of officials, not of outsiders. Listening to the news for the sound of public opinion, officials hear echoes of their own voices. Looking for the pictures of the world outside, they see reflections of their own images.’38 The reflective characteristic of the press fluctuates in intensity and is governed by source selection that often limits the reflective 308


characteristic to a small and powerful group that news values determine, so often in foreign policy reporting, will be political leaders.39 In May 1962 the press was alone in alerting the public to the importance of the decision to send advisers. The lack of community interest and response was reflected in lack of reports initiated by action or words from any other than the press, Rusk and the Government. Any continued investigation and discussion was lost because others within the communication process had failed to respond. The reflective character of the press in this instance was defined by community and political inertia. Lack of input from other areas may have reflected consensus with Government policy. Certainly politicians could have gauged the political advantage of silence reflected in the press. Despite maintaining support for the main contentions of the Government for the sending of a battalion in 1965, the press reflected the multiplicity of viewpoints and considerations expressed in the wider community. Through that coverage, it created the sense of uncertainty, confusion, anger and insecurity that existed within the Australian environment at that time. While a distinctive climate developed about Australia’s policy direction in the newspapers, it needs to be remembered that the mood created was also reflective of the vocal minority against involvement. In 1966 because of its concentration on the political arena, the press reflected the political climate far more accurately than it mirrored public response. The use of the press as a determinant of mood or climate needs to be tempered by an understanding that this reflective nature is not evenly distributed between key participants within the democratic communication process. The quality of democratic practice will be enhanced when the press reflects a balance between community and political perspectives. Its reflective nature is effective if it conveys broader community concerns and response to government direction as well as government response to community concerns. British academic Colin Seymore-Ure contends that ‘it is the emphasis put upon the responsiveness of the political leaders to the British people which gives the functions of the Press (and any other mass medium) great political significance in our political system’.40 In discussing change in Australia during the 1960s Donald Horne surmised that the people were excluded, on a number of new Conclusion

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issues, by a ‘double wall’ from the setting of agenda. One barrier was the ‘indifference or hostility of the politicians’ and the other was the public’s ‘conservatism or distrust of the media’.41 And the media have powers equal to, or perhaps greater than, those of politicians in setting the political agenda … sometimes individuals … gatecrashed the agenda by forcing the media to take notice of them. They did this not simply by rational argument—that can be a waste of time— but by making news.42 The quality of Australian press coverage depended on the willingness and the ability of all key participants—politicians, press, public, military and bureaucracy—to provide input, from their various specialised perspectives, into public debate. All within the communication process in a democracy can be influenced by the information available from each. The quality of democracy is threatened when politicians withhold information. More specifically, if one sector is silenced, misinformed, misrepresented or non-communicative, on issues of national and international importance, the worth of Australian democracy will be eroded. When newspaper coverage was enriched in the late 1960s it was the result of more forthright commentary from journalists. The Australian vocal public, virtually cut off from the necessary communication channels that media can and must provide in a democratic society, developed other means to gain media attention. As Horne stated, some ‘made news’. Others turned to the alternative press. The study of policy decisions confirms that politicians are in a powerful position to set the media agenda, particularly when it involves foreign affairs and defence. More insidious in political agenda-setting is the way that politicians can use the news values and routines of journalism to promote their perspective. The following analogy from Sigal aptly summarises a major issue in the press coverage of Australian Vietnam policy—the weakness of the press in challenging the dominance of the political framing of what needed to be considered as a basis for acceptance of that policy. Embedded in the words news medium is a connotation that aptly defines the function of the press: it mediates 310


between the officialdom and the citizenry of the United States. Like [a] pipeline carrying water from a reservoir to a city, it has some effect on what arrives at the end of the line. Not all droplets that enter the pipeline end up in the same destination; some are routed elsewhere, others evaporate on route. Yet the effects of the pipeline are minor compared to the source of the water-the reservoir. Similarly, newsmen, by adhering to routine channels of news gathering, leave much of the task of selection of news to its sources.43 Grant’s conclusions about the role of the press in foreign policy in August 1969 indicate his clear grasp of the weaknesses exhibited in political reporting during the 1960s: The role of the press … in a period of change and growth is to provide a platform for debate and discussion on foreign policy issues as they arise. It should not suppose that the political parties provide the only available policies. Newspapers too often, I believe, allow the political parties, especially the leaders, to determine the issues. Looking back at the debate on Vietnam during 1966 elections is a chastening experience. Political parties bring competition for office into formulation of policy. But newspapers are open to promote defence and foreign policies which unite rather than divide the nation.44 The validity of Grant’s concern was supported by this analysis of Australian press coverage. The press failed in degrees to exhibit these characteristics. As Menzies’ successors failed in their struggle for similar ascendancy and the Opposition gained credibility, the press acknowledged two voices in government. Used to embracing one leader’s definition, and with Menzies, the resolution of an issue, the press widened its base to include the Opposition. Reporting and commentary concentration on the performance of leaders led to a serious limitation of Australia’s Vietnam debate. Not only were the leaders of Australia’s political parties looked to for definition of the issues but, as was particularly evident in the decision to escalate commitment in 1966, Calwell came to represent the oppositional Conclusion

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viewpoints and Holt the justifications for intervention. Press gallery journalists are comfortable with personality politics. One characteristic of this study of Australian press coverage of Vietnam is the difficulty of avoiding generalisations about ‘the press’. When Hugh Lunn returned to Australia in February 1968 after reporting for Reuters in Vietnam for nearly a year, he was dismayed at the lack of interest and knowledge about the war in Australia. A friend he visited asked what overseas had been like, and then pleaded with him not to mention Vietnam as they were tired of constantly hearing about it.45 Lunn’s response to the perceptions of the war among his family, friends and associates highlights the confusion of the themes so often reiterated in Australian press coverage: I was isolated by my consuming interest in a subject that rarely entered the thoughts of people in Australia. What was even worse was their ignorance … Not only did people not know what was going on but they had a small enough smattering to think they knew. Everyone could tell me where I was wrong.46 A comparison of the newspapers studied here revealed a basis of similarity of reporting among them. It also exemplified differences apparent in the detail, sometimes significant, but the impact of these points was often lost by the acceptance and repetition of more universally accepted considerations on Australia’s involvement. The reliance on agency material—AAP, Reuters and UPI for coverage of Vietnam and America—helped to produce a uniformity in the information carried. There was a remarkable consensus in newspapers about what was a major or minor interest report. Reports from agencies were the main source in Australian coverage of the day-to-day fluctuations in the war. It resulted in a massive availability of reports that suffered in impact because of their daily nature and publication routines in Australian newspapers. Many were relegated to ‘World News’ pages, where it often seemed that one report from Vietnam each day was mandatory. Many of these reports owed their origin to the controlled but easily accessible handouts from American military public relations. The American administration attempted to control information from Vietnam by instigating what press called the ‘Five O’clock Follies’. These briefing sessions in Saigon aimed to 312


give journalists a day-to-day update on what was happening in the war in Vietnam. While the better reporters with contacts in the field learnt to ignore the briefings, the ‘follies’ still influenced Vietnam coverage. American journalist, David Halberstam’s, viewed the public relations exercise critically: It was a cynical performance. That none of it could be vouched for bothered few of the spokesmen … Yet the best reporters of the war thus had their stories neutralised by the wire services, whose dispatches, based on the briefings, were printed with surprising regularity on the front pages of the nation’s great newspapers.47 The bulk of reporting in Australian papers on the wider war from agency sources highlighted a weakness in the Australian coverage of the war. When Australian reporters did go for brief visits to Vietnam, they concentrated on Australian soldiers rather than any broader conceptualisation of the war. The itinerary, for example, of a reporter like John Bennetts, would include accommodation in Saigon, a visit to the Australian Embassy, where files indicate information would be given according to the status of the visiting journalist, a visit to Nui Dat, and often a visit to a member of the Australian Army training team, ‘up country’.48 When the broader canvas was covered it was often by political journalists and editors, like Bruce Grant and Creighton Burns, who were experienced in foreign and political reporting from Asia and in Australia. All newspapers used syndicated articles, the Australian far more than others. These syndicated and agency reports provided valuable information to Australian readers and gave Australian newspapers access to some excellent coverage of the Vietnam War from professional and knowledgeable journalists, mostly American. All papers exhibited the weaknesses associated with mass use of agency copy. This is not to deny the professionalism of some of these reports. Newspapers also carried reports on the war and American domestic politics from those recognised as valued reporters and commentators. These included Halberstam, Lippmann, Salisbury, Sheehan, Reston, Arnett and others. As a new paper, and a national one, illustrating a willingness to use wide international sources, the Australian was a significant contributor to the quality of Australian Conclusion

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reporting. Its anti-military involvement stance distinguished it from other metropolitan dailies, a distinction that too readily became equated with professionalism in the minds of many readers. Grant claimed that the Australian’s consistency of reporting of foreign affairs through syndicated copy had encouraged the Age and the SMH, in particular, to a ‘wider and more varied cover of foreign affairs’.49 The extensive use by the Australian of syndicated copy should not obscure the fact that all papers used such articles, although not as consistently. The consideration of the views of writers such as Lippmann and Warner in public comment provided virtually the only example of obvious cross-readership of papers or the willingness of newspapers to accept the newsworthiness of occasional excellent insights in others. AAP-Reuters had probably already standardised comment from the newsworthy. Despite the use of valuable material in the Australian, its interest in overseas opinion largely followed the traditional areas of interest for Australia—America and Britain—and placed little emphasis on Asian comment. In this sense it did not use its potential in the early years to seriously challenge Australia’s lack of interest in Asia despite the Vietnam War. On day-to-day reporting all papers exhibited fluctuations in standards of reporting and commentary. The Australian editorials, because of its consistent opposition to Australian military involvement, often appeared clearer and more succinct than others. Because of the dominance of consideration of political viewpoints, as an overall consideration, editorial comment exhibited little diversity. While some American dailies appeared to be regarded as proRepublican or Democrat, during the vital years of intervention and escalation in Australia there was no paper that presented the Opposition as a credible alternative government. This would not have affected commentary on Vietnam if papers had not defined issues related to Vietnam from the narrowed parameters of political debate. The depiction of the Labor Party as inconsistent and in disarray became interwoven with a lack of respect for its stance on opposition to conscription and miliary intervention. This, in turn, was equated with disloyalty to America. While the Australian opposed military intervention in Vietnam, it did not support Labor’s debate to help public consideration of Labor as an alternative government. Specialist foreign correspondents and commentators enriched Australia’s coverage. As Kern et al. noted, these journalists were less 314


restricted by government and domestic influences.50 However, the strength of commentary from those with foreign expertise and involvement in reporting the domestic perspectives produced excellent and balanced considerations. Burns and Grant exemplified the importance of this specialised understanding. Both had reported from South-East Asia. Nor had Warner’s long association with Asia negated his political connections in Canberra. Warner had always stated that the war was not winnable. He alerted readers to the danger of relying on American determination to remain in Asia. He saw clearly the connection between geography and politics and the need for change in Australian perceptions about Asia. The strength of his convictions was weakened by the prevalence in his copy of his fear of expansive Communism. The value of foreign correspondents’ copy, however, was often negated by the limitation of publication. All public issues of prominence and controversy concerning Vietnam tended to find their final resolution in political debate reported by press gallery journalists, with perspectives that defined the issues in terms of political consequence and performance of key players. As a result, the most consistently dominant journalist perspectives were those that came from Canberra, where the role of news reporter of the major source base and commentator, often with a weekly column, were joined to produce coverage. The extension of by-lines and commentary columns, particularly in foreign affairs, in Australian newspapers, produced a significant challenge to press gallery dominance in the late 1960s, but it was a belated impact in determining the overall dominance of the political reporting environment. Australian press coverage of Vietnam policy between 1962 and 1969 illustrates the rapidity of change in Australia in the 1960s. One of its most important consequences for press coverage was the emphasis on what remained constant—Australia’s determination to remain a good ally of America. In terms of journalistic practice, the study of Australian coverage indicated that during this period routines of journalism and news values revealed the reflective nature of the press and its failure to produce a balance in coverage and commentary to encourage wider Australian debate. Politicians emerged as the dominant agenda-setters of public considerations related to the war until the late 1960s when a loss of political control over the agenda due, not least, to the confusion of the Government over policy direction, Conclusion

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led to others defining that direction. It also owed much to press acceptance of the Opposition, or at least Whitlam, as a party or leader not controlled by Communist ideology and was not anti the American alliance. The strength of Australian coverage was the quality of a number of its specialist journalists. Commentary and reports from journalists such as Warner, Williams, Grant, Burns, Brass, Wilkie, Cox, Fitchett, Brown, Bennetts, Duffield and Burgess are a reminder that negative analysis needs to be tempered by acknowledgement of the contribution made by individual journalists. The commentary offered by these journalists was as succinct, insightful and informed as any of the contributors to Australian debate during the years of Australia’s involvement. As Tiffen states, it ‘would be a fundamental mistake’ to assume that ‘the debate about American coverage of the war can be simply translated to Australia’.51 One ‘key difference’ between the coverage of both was the role that Australia played as a junior ally in the war.52 While America was forced to face the ‘dangers and uncertainties’ of the war in Vietnam, ‘the Australian government could deflect such doubts by invoking the certainty of the American alliance’.53 This attitude was compounded by the failure of the American press in the early years of intervention and escalation to examine the basis of America’s own intervention. Australian coverage, ready to reflect or publish American debate, may then have reported from a wider base. While unsuccessful in questioning the basis of American intervention, the Australian press was determinedly successful in defining the basis of Australian intervention in terms of the American alliance. Early decisions indicated the willingness of the press to establish credence for the Government’s justification for intervention: the domino theory, the right of the South Vietnamese to self-determination and the need to respect the requirements of alliance. By its unwillingness to question the morality of American intervention, the Australian press was forced into the dilemma that had limited Labor acceptability. The moral argument claimed that if Australian security depended on an American presence in South-East Asia, then American soldiers could hardly be expected to die for Australian interests without Australian support. Reid claims that while many in the press gallery were opposed to Australia’s participation in the war they supported the Government. It was ‘a moral judgement, rather 316


than a military or political one—a broad judgement’. According to Reid, Labor’s emphasis on the immorality of the war was not supported by the press gallery in the years of escalation: The moral issue had already been thrashed out and subconsciously decided in favour of the morality of the war and its expediency. It was a loose feeling—it wasn’t totally thought through. You would argue with fellows but in the broadest, loosest terms rather than with any precision.54 It was not only the expediency of supporting America that limited the role of the press in establishing wider public consideration of Australian involvement. It was press acceptance of the moral argument as a basis for involvement that sought American goodwill above the interests of its Vietnamese allies and young Australians sent to fight and maybe die in Vietnam. It was a moral dilemma which, for the decisive years of escalation, pushed the press into a limiting and, with hindsight, untenable position.

Notes 1

2

3 4

5

6 7 8 9 10 11

12

13 14 15 16

Wrigley, The Defence Force and the Community: A Partnership in Australia’s Defence, p. 478. ‘Vietnam’s compelling lessons’, Australian, 29 April 1995, editorial, ‘The Weekend Australian’, p. 22. B. Gillman, Interview with author. G. Sheridan, ‘Why the Vietnam War was just and winnable’, Australian, 19 April 1995, p. 11. This was often a directive from editors rather than determined by individual journalists. Frost, Australia’s War in Vietnam, p. 182. Major General Alan Stretton, Interview with author. B. Gillman, Interview with author; Sir Thomas Daly, Interview with author. Sir Thomas Daly, Interview with author. D. Warner, ‘The Australians in Vietnam’, SMH, 30 December 1969, p. 6. Hammond, ‘The Press as an Agent of Defeat: A Critical Examination’, p. 321. T. Parkinson, ‘John Gorton, my place in history’, Australian, 26–27 February 1994, ‘The Weekend Review’, p. 4. Gorton conceded that the Liberals ‘had won a lot of elections by saying the same thing over and over again’. Whitlam, The Whitlam Government, p. 11. ibid. T. Parkinson, ‘John Gorton, my place in history’, p. 4. A. Reid, Interview with author.

Conclusion

317

17 18 19

20

21 22 23 24 25 26 27

28

29 30 31 32 33

34

35 36 37 38 39

40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47

Hallin, The ‘Uncensored War’, p. 62. Tiffen, ‘The War the Media Lost’, p. 121. Faulkner, ‘Bao Chi: The American News Media in Vietnam, 1960–65’, Abstract. See, for example, Aitkin (ed.), The Howson Diaries, p. 214, entries for 29 and 30 March 1966. Nacos, The Press, Presidents and Crisis, p. 1985. Braestrup, ‘A Look Back at Tet 1968’, Introduction, p. xi. ibid., pp. 266–7. Hallin, The ‘Uncensored War’, p. 83. ibid., pp. 213–14. Whitlam, The Whitlam Government, p. 30. The Australian was an exception in that its denunciation of Government policy in Vietnam did not lead to public support for Labor. In the 1969 election the paper supported a Government win. This changed shortly afterwards with Murdoch’s admiration for Whitlam. Robins, ‘A Feeling of Disappointment: The British Press and the Gulf Conflict’, p. 596. ibid. A. Reid, Interview with author. ibid. W. Brown, Interview with author. Kern, Levering and Levering, The Kennedy Crisis: The Press, the Presidency and Foreign Policy, p. 195. ibid., p. 201. Kern noted that the American press reflected the ‘cardinal weakness in American foreign policy in the early 1960s’ that assumed that foreign leaders, other than allies, had anything valuable to consider in relation to foreign policy. ‘Such an assumption augmented the power of the presidency not only in relation to the press, but also in relation to Congress and other forces in American society.’ Tiffen, ‘The War the Media Lost’, p. 125. Seaton, ‘Politics, Parties and the Media in Britain’, p. 24. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, p. 12. Sigal, Reporters and Officials, p. 186. Kern et al. (The Kennedy Crisis, p. 196) concluded from their study of press response to crisis that the press was a reflective institution. Tiffen also asserts that ‘News is a reflective institution’ (News and Power, p. 197). Both conclude that the press reflects pressure from forces within the democratic system. The more dominant of these forces will be reflected in source dominance within the press. Seymore-Ure, The Press, Politics and the Public, p. 17. Horne, Time of Hope: Australia 1966–72, p. 9. ibid. Sigal, Reporters and Officials, p. 129. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, p. 18. Lunn, Vietnam: A Reporter’s War, p. 237. ibid., p. 238. Halberstam, The Powers That Be, p. 631.

318


48

49 50 51 52 53 54

Australian Embassy, Saigon, ‘Press and Visitors to Vietnam’, CRS A4531 Correspondence files, file no. 221/4/8/1. Grant, ‘Foreign Affairs and the Australian Press’, p. 9. Kern et al., The Kennedy Crisis, p. 198. Tiffen, ‘The War the Media Lost’, pp. 118, 121. ibid. ibid., p. 124. A. Reid, Interview with author.

Conclusion

319

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—— (ed.), Communism in Asia: A Threat to Australia, Australian Institute of Political Science, Angus & Robertson, Sydney, 1967. Williams, Captain Ian McLean (ed.), Vietnam: A Pictorial History of the Sixth Battalion, The Royal Australian Regiment 1966–1967, Printcraft, Brookvale, NSW, 1967. Windschuttle, Keith, The Media: A New Analysis of the Press—Television, Radio and Advertising in Australia, Penguin, Ringwood, Vic., 1984. —— K. and E. Windschuttle (eds), Fixing the News: Critical Perspectives on the Australian Media, Penguin, Ringwood, Vic., 1981. Wolfe, Tom, The New Journalism, with an anthology edited by Tom Wolfe and E. W. Johnson, Harper & Row, New York, 1973. Woodard, Gary, Asian Alternatives: Australia’s Vietnam Decision and Lessons on Going to War, Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 2004. Woolcott, Richard, ‘Foreign News and National Policy’, in The Australian Press and Foreign News, Second Summer School of Professional Journalism, Canberra, February 1966.

Theses Bailey, G. A., ‘The Vietnam War According to Chet, David, Walter, Harry, Peter, Bob, Howard and Frank: A Content Analysis of Journalistic Performance by the Network Television Evening News Anchormen 1965–1970’. University of Wisconsin, Madison, WI, PhD thesis, 1973. Faulkner, F. D., ‘Bao Chi: The American News Media in Vietnam, 1960–65’. Communication Studies, MA, PhD thesis, 1981. Lee, D., ‘Foreign Policy News and US Public Opinion’. Northwestern University, Evanston, IL, PhD thesis, 1991. Payne, P., ‘The Australian Press and the Vietnam War: An Analysis of Policy and Controversy, 1962–1969’. University of Sydney, PhD thesis, 1995. Young, P. R., ‘Reporting Conflict: The Relationship Between the Armed Forces and the Media in Low Intensity and Limited Conflicts’. Australian Defence Force Academy, Master of Defence Studies, 1987.

Recorded Sources Bowden, T., Inside Stories, ABC Radio, program broadcast 1978. (The stories of foreign correspondents, including Denis Warner and Pat Burgess.) Barclay, Glen St J. ‘A Very Small Insurance Policy’, War Memorial History Conference, Melbourne, 1986. McLeod, P. and J. Lowrie, ‘Two American Journalists’ (Tape 1, Harrison Salisbury. Tape 2, David Halberstam), ABC Radio Talks and Documentaries.

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Index

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War and Words: The Australian Press and the Vietnam War (Mup Academic Monograph)

The Vietnam War and Postmodernity

The Vietnam War

The Vietnam War

The Vietnam War

The Vietnam War

Vietnam War

The press and the cold war

War and Aftermath in Vietnam

Fighting and Writing the Vietnam War

War and Revolution in Vietnam

Vietnam War (America at War)

The Korean War and the Vietnam War: People, Politics, and Power (America at War)

Weapons of the Vietnam War

The Vietnam War 1956–1975

The Vietnam War 1956-1975

Confronting the war machine: draft resistance during the Vietnam War

Horace (Oxford University Press academic monograph reprints)

Oxford Vietnam At War

War Crimes in Vietnam

Airmobile Helico War Vietnam

Vietnam at War

War and Media Operations: The US Military and the Press from Vietnam to Iraq

Vietnam war. Biographies

The Uncensored War: The Media and the Vietnam

Vietnam War Almanac

Vietnam war. Primary sources

Vietnam war. Almanac

The Columbia History of the Vietnam War

War and Words: The Australian Press and the Vietnam War (Mup Academic Monograph)

The Vietnam War and Postmodernity

The Vietnam War

The Vietnam War

The Vietnam War

The Vietnam War

Vietnam War

The press and the cold war

War and Aftermath in Vietnam

Fighting and Writing the Vietnam War

War and Revolution in Vietnam

Vietnam War (America at War)

The Korean War and the Vietnam War: People, Politics, and Power (America at War)

Weapons of the Vietnam War

The Vietnam War 1956–1975

The Vietnam War 1956-1975

Confronting the war machine: draft resistance during the Vietnam War

Horace (Oxford University Press academic monograph reprints)

Oxford Vietnam At War

War Crimes in Vietnam

Airmobile Helico War Vietnam

Vietnam at War

War and Media Operations: The US Military and the Press from Vietnam to Iraq

Vietnam war. Biographies

The Uncensored War: The Media and the Vietnam

Vietnam War Almanac

Vietnam war. Primary sources

Vietnam war. Almanac

The Columbia History of the Vietnam War

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