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. . . we [the Lao Dong (Communist) Party] are building socialism in Vietnam. We are building it, however, only in half of the country, while in the other half, we must still bring to a conclusion the democratic- bourgeois and anti-imperialist revolution. Actually, our party must now accomplish, contemporaneously, two different revolutions, in the north and in the south. This is one of the most characteristic traits of our struggle.
The deep and intense anger of Africa on the subject of Southern Rhodesia is by now widely realized. It is not, however, so clearly understood. In consequence, the mutual suspicion which already exists between free African states and nations of the West is in danger of getting very much worse.
There is no major political system today about which we have less data and fewer meaningful facts than that of Communist China. Yet decisions which will shape our diplomacy, and more concretely our military establishment, for years ahead must be made in the light of what we now surmise to be the Chinese people's character and dynamics. Inescapably we fall back upon abstractions and gross generalizations.
The ultimate success or failure of the Alliance for Progress will be determined, in my judgment, primarily by the attitudes and actions of the business community in both the United States and the Latin American republics. This is not to say that the role of governments is unimportant; it is, indeed, essential. But without the enlightened coöperation of private enterprise, which provides 80 percent of the gross national product in Latin America, the growth pattern prescribed by the Alliance is unlikely to be realized.
Over the full range of contemporary foreign affairs, American policy toward Western Europe has been marked by durability and rare continuity. The change of neither Presidents, Secretaries of State nor political parties has altered the lines of basic policy. The Government marches with American public opinion, for that ubiquitous man in the street still feels deeply that Western Europe is vital to the United States.
The outcome of the presidential elections in France took public opinion abroad by surprise. General de Gaulle was thought to be so exceptional a politician, with such great personal radiance and such a firm grip on opinion that it seemed he would be elected by a substantial majority on the first ballot. The results he had obtained in referenda in the past led one to believe that he would do even better in the presidential elections. His main argument in those referenda had been that if he did not obtain an unequivocal and massive response he could not carry on with his task. This election centered, directly and personally, on him. The outcome, then, appeared clear in advance.
Not long after I returned to Sydney in 1954, I met a friend I had not seen for five years. After a meagre offering of cordialities, he said: "How long do you give us? I give us three years." When I asked him what he was talking about he said that he expected that China would conquer Southeast Asia by 1957 and that Australia would become a Chinese dependency shortly after. He speculated for a while about who the members of Australia's first Quisling government would be. . . .
Centralization of functions under Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara since 1961 has substantially altered the role of the military Service Secretary. There is a widely held opinion that it remains only for the Congress, in its own good time, to inter decently the Departments of the Army, Navy and Air Force, together with their respective Secretaries. My own experience in two separate statutory tours totaling nearly a decade since 1947 does not at all support this conclusion. The military departments exist today, not as vestigial monuments to tradition, but as viable institutions. They perform in our constitutional democracy a function which emphasizes checks and balances in the determination of military policy.
Thirty-SEVEN years of fighting, thirty-three years of Destourian leadership, ten years of independence: a propitious moment to draw up a balance sheet, to illuminate the ideas behind our actions. When I go back in my mind to the 1930s, and compare the Tunisia of those days with Tunisia now, I am filled with optimism and rejoice to think of what my country and my people will be by the end of this century, or even before. Colonized, humiliated, crushed by centuries of decadence and anarchy, their resources exploited by a foreign minority who tried to assimilate them and destroy their identity, the Tunisians responded to my call and became one man, to face a long, hard and unequal struggle. Finally, they won, and in victory gained not only the dignity of independence but also the necessary conditions for progress and development. We find in that struggle legitimate reasons to be proud, a source of inspiration and proof of the effectiveness of our approach.
Soviet science has been in the public eye for the last two decades. The dramatic confrontation of Marxist theory and genetics epitomized the dangers of Communism as a thought-controlling system. The rapid development of atomic weapons by the Soviets underlined the effectiveness of the Russian scientific task force. The flights of sputniks, luniks, laikas, cosmonauts showed the world that the party leadership had made an imaginative commitment to daring scientific ventures and that Soviet technology was discharging this commitment.
The Philippine Republic started the new year, its twentieth as a sovereign nation, with a new President, a partly new and re-shuffled legislature, and something of an innovation in presidential inaugural addresses. "The Filipino," declared President Ferdinand Marcos to his startled listeners, including foreign dignitaries attending the inaugural, "has lost his soul and his courage. . . . We have ceased to value order. Justice and security are as myths. Our government is gripped in the iron hand of venality, its treasury is barren, its resources are wasted, its civil service is slothful and indifferent, its armed forces demoralized, and its councils sterile."
The Baltic States of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, which had been independent between the two world wars, were annexed by the Kremlin in June of 1940, during the dramatic days when Paris fell to the Germans, and became republics of the Soviet Union. In thus reversing the course of modern Baltic history, Moscow separated the Baltic countries not only from Western Europe, toward which they had been oriented in international politics, but also from the nations of Central and Eastern Europe with which they shared most of their social and cultural characteristics. At present one of the main Communist propaganda themes aimed at the postwar generation of Baits is that the independence of their parents was a historical mistake, a deviation from their manifest destiny to be part of Russia. In the Soviet view, Baltic countries should not be independent; their national survival and progress can be assured only by the Leninist nationality policy of the U.S.S.R. Under Khrushchev, the goal of this policy was to establish melting-pot conditions for "the creation of a single nation with a single native [Russian] language."[i] Khrushchev's successors have continued to pursue this objective.
President Charles de Gaulle in discussing current Franco-American relations often focuses upon the prewar neutrality of the United States as well as upon his wartime differences with President Franklin D. Roosevelt. In doing so he conjures up the image of an unreliable American ally. His recollections have also pushed into the background of public memory the two years before France's tragic collapse in June 1940, when, in the words of former Premier Edouard Daladier, "President Roosevelt was for France a very great and noble friend." As Premier during those years, Daladier witnessed at first hand the American President's efforts to help France order some 4,000 American combat planes to rebuild French defenses against the imminent attack of Hitler's vastly superior air power. Hitherto the details of the story have been wrapped in the secrecy of American and French archives, private papers and personal memories, but it can now be seen that Roosevelt concentrated his principal effort on that aid because he believed that in no other way could the United States strengthen France so significantly. Neither Morgenthau's monetary agreements nor the sale of machine tools and raw materials would do so much to increase French capacity to resist Nazi aggression. Roosevelt was ready to go as far as possible in spite of isolationist opposition to the delivery of planes to France because of his further conviction that, despite the Neutrality Act, the frontiers of the United States extended to the Rhine.