Meanwhile, a covert operation gone badly awry provided Kennedy with a tutorial regarding the risks involved in allowing agencies other than the White House to determine the course of national security policy.

Eisenhower was hardly the first and would not be the last president to bequeath his successor a poison pill. In Kennedy's case, the inheritance bore the label Operation Zapata, a scheme concocted by the CIA, albeit with Eisenhower's a.s.sent, that aimed to repeat in Cuba the successes the Agency had ostensibly achieved in Iran and Guatemala. Just as the CIA had overthrown Mossadegh and arbenz, it now set out to overthrow Cuban leader Fidel Castro, raising a small force of 1,400 Cuban exiles to invade their homeland with expectations of triggering a popular uprising. Just as the CIA had overthrown Mossadegh and arbenz, it now set out to overthrow Cuban leader Fidel Castro, raising a small force of 1,400 Cuban exiles to invade their homeland with expectations of triggering a popular uprising.

The ensuing failure is too well known to require a detailed accounting here. Suffice it to say that Kennedy, sensing the enterprise was a dubious one, stalled for time, sent subordinates back to take a second look, and tinkered with operational details before reluctantly allowing it to proceed. When giving the final go-ahead, the president insisted that the operation succeed or fail on its own: Under no circ.u.mstances was he going to send in U.S. forces if the CIA-trained proxies got into more trouble than they could handle.20 Even before the first Cuban exile hit the beach at the Bay of Pigs on April 17, 1961, everything had begun to go wrong. With disaster looming, the CIA made an eleventh-hour appeal, entreating Kennedy (through Secretary of State Dean Rusk) to order direct military intervention. The president denied that request. When the operation soon thereafter collapsed, leakers wasted no time in blaming the White House: Kennedy's timidity in refusing to commit American muscle, they claimed, had doomed the enterprise.

For our purposes, the real significance of the Bay of Pigs lies in what next ensued. Kennedy's response to his first foreign policy crisis produced results-almost all of them negative-that went far beyond what the president himself could possibly have envisioned. In that sense, the Bay of Pigs stands in relation to the Kennedy presidency as the 1964 Gulf of Tonkin incident would to the presidency of Lyndon Johnson or the 1979 takeover of the U.S. emba.s.sy in Tehran to the presidency of Jimmy Carter. As a turning point, the Bay of Pigs deserves comparison with 9/11-a moment that created an opening to pose first-order questions, but elicited instead an ill-conceived, reflexive response. As would Johnson, Carter, and George W. Bush, Kennedy in 1961 squandered an opportunity to rethink and reorient U.S. policy, with fateful implications. instead an ill-conceived, reflexive response. As would Johnson, Carter, and George W. Bush, Kennedy in 1961 squandered an opportunity to rethink and reorient U.S. policy, with fateful implications.

Less than a hundred days into his presidency, Kennedy found himself obliged to take personal responsibility for the most humiliating foreign-policy failure the nation had experienced in decades. He was adamant that this would never happen again.

In Washington, large-scale failure or scandal inevitably produces demands for explanations. More often than not, however, the ensuing investigation undertaken by some congressional committee or blue-ribbon commission devotes less attention to uncovering truth or probing for underlying causes than to limiting political fallout.

So in the wake of the Bay of Pigs, the president turned to Maxwell Taylor, recruiting him to head up an in-house inquiry into the causes of the debacle. As chair of the Cuba Study Group, the retired general presided over an investigation that gave the president what he wanted. Besides Taylor, the group consisted of chief of naval operations Adm. Arleigh Burke, CIA director Allen Dulles (whose agency had, after all, planned, prepared, and overseen the debacle), and Attorney General Robert Kennedy-all of whom, albeit for different reasons, were more interested in damage control than in pursuing the facts wherever they might happen to lead. Not surprisingly, Taylor and his colleagues focused almost exclusively on tactical and operational issues, while giving wide berth to anything touching even remotely on basic policy. It was the equivalent of investigating a bridge collapse without bothering to a.s.sess the structural integrity of the basic engineering design.

As Taylor interpreted his charge, he was to evaluate the Bay of Pigs as one instance of U.S.-orchestrated "paramilitary, guerrilla, and anti-guerrilla activity ... with a view to strengthening our work in this area." Bay of Pigs as one instance of U.S.-orchestrated "paramilitary, guerrilla, and anti-guerrilla activity ... with a view to strengthening our work in this area."21 What mattered most was to get on with business. When it came to identifying the "proximate cause" of Operation Zapata's failure, therefore, Taylor's group concluded that the core problem was a "shortage of ammunition." That the Cuban exile air force-a ramshackle collection of obsolete aircraft, largely crewed by CIA contractors-had performed poorly also emerged as a matter of concern. Finally, there was the fact that the executive branch "was not organizationally prepared to cope with this kind of military operation." A rejiggering of the organizational charts, allowing for more effective presidential control, was clearly in order. What mattered most was to get on with business. When it came to identifying the "proximate cause" of Operation Zapata's failure, therefore, Taylor's group concluded that the core problem was a "shortage of ammunition." That the Cuban exile air force-a ramshackle collection of obsolete aircraft, largely crewed by CIA contractors-had performed poorly also emerged as a matter of concern. Finally, there was the fact that the executive branch "was not organizationally prepared to cope with this kind of military operation." A rejiggering of the organizational charts, allowing for more effective presidential control, was clearly in order.22 Exactly how Cuba threatened U.S. interests, thereby necessitating Castro's removal, and whether or not covert action offered a plausible way to achieve that aim: These were matters the Cuba Study Group did not take up. In reporting their findings to the president, Taylor and his a.s.sociates were content to note: "They had been struck with the general feeling that there can be no long-term living with Castro as a neighbor." The basis of this general feeling remained unexplored and unexplained.

The members of the study group-who engaged in little actual study-deemed it sufficient to a.s.sert that Castro's "continued presence within the hemispheric community as a dangerously effective exponent of Communism and Anti-Americanism const.i.tutes a real menace." They urged Kennedy to have another go at the Cuban dictator, recommending that "new guidance be provided for political, military, economic and propaganda action against Castro."23 Kennedy welcomed these findings, which conveniently coincided with his own existing views. Kennedy welcomed these findings, which conveniently coincided with his own existing views.

The Bay of Pigs might have provided an opportunity for what we today call "a teachable moment." Taylor's management of the Cuba Study Group-its cla.s.sified findings needless to say withheld from the public-ensured that nothing of importance would be taught or learned. Yet when he had finished his a.s.signment, Taylor could rightly claim a threefold achievement. First, by confining his inquiry to tactical issues, he deflected criticism away from the existing national security consensus. Fundamental questions, whether, for example, relying on covert action to overthrow foreign governments was worth the risk and actually served the national interest, remained off-limits. Second, by suggesting that culpability within the White House extended no further than a few organizational deficiencies, he created an opportunity for Kennedy (working through trusted lieutenants) to a.s.sert greater oversight over high-priority covert operations. Exercising direct White House control over CIA activities would reduce the likelihood of Agency gaffes ever getting the president into a similar pickle.

Finally-perhaps as a reward for items one and two-Taylor managed to make his way back into a position of power. Kennedy's disenchantment with the Joint Chiefs of Staff for having failed to alert him to the risks posed by Zapata-whether the Chiefs were malicious, lazy, or just stupid was not clear-persuaded him to recall Taylor to active duty, first by inventing the post of Military Representative to the President, and then by appointing him as chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

The most immediate result of the Bay of Pigs debacle was to redouble the administration's determination to eliminate Castro. Although the Pentagon focused its attention on the possibility of direct military intervention, the White House remained wary of action that smacked of naked imperialism. Instead, the Cuba Study Group's recommendation that the president issue "new guidance" regarding action against the Cuban dictator found expression in Operation Mongoose, an aggressive program of covert action that aimed to get rid of Castro and subvert his revolution. In hopes of ensuring the program's success-and protect himself from being duped again-Kennedy fired Allen Dulles along with other senior CIA officials who had concocted Operation Zapata. He then a.s.signed responsibility for Mongoose to his most trusted deputy: his brother Robert, the attorney general, now doing double duty as the nation's chief law enforcement officer and its princ.i.p.al impresario of dirty tricks. imperialism. Instead, the Cuba Study Group's recommendation that the president issue "new guidance" regarding action against the Cuban dictator found expression in Operation Mongoose, an aggressive program of covert action that aimed to get rid of Castro and subvert his revolution. In hopes of ensuring the program's success-and protect himself from being duped again-Kennedy fired Allen Dulles along with other senior CIA officials who had concocted Operation Zapata. He then a.s.signed responsibility for Mongoose to his most trusted deputy: his brother Robert, the attorney general, now doing double duty as the nation's chief law enforcement officer and its princ.i.p.al impresario of dirty tricks.

The younger Kennedy became chair of a newly created anti-Castro steering group known as the Special Group (Augmented), charged with coordinating the actions of all government agencies conspiring to topple Castro. Bringing to this task the energy for which he was well known, Robert Kennedy declared his intention to "stir things up on [the] island with espionage, sabotage, [and] general disorder," working through Cuban exiles. Direct military intervention was to be a last resort.

The likelihood of such actions inducing unintended consequences left the attorney general undaunted: "[W]e have nothing to lose in my estimate."24 The younger Kennedy wasted no time declaring that solving the Cuba problem ranked as "the top priority in the United States Government-all else is secondary-no time, money, effort, or manpower is to be spared." The younger Kennedy wasted no time declaring that solving the Cuba problem ranked as "the top priority in the United States Government-all else is secondary-no time, money, effort, or manpower is to be spared."25 Likewise not to be spared were the legal and moral norms to which U.S. officials professed allegiance. With legendary spook Maj. Gen. Edward Lansdale acting as Kennedy's chief of operations, all sorts of bizarre chicanery soon followed, including collusion with the Mafia in plots to a.s.sa.s.sinate Castro, fantastical schemes aimed at inciting popular insurrection, and a program of sabotage directed at Cuba's food supply, power plants, oil refineries, and other economic a.s.sets-all of this together const.i.tuting one of the most infamous and profitless episodes in the history of American statecraft. followed, including collusion with the Mafia in plots to a.s.sa.s.sinate Castro, fantastical schemes aimed at inciting popular insurrection, and a program of sabotage directed at Cuba's food supply, power plants, oil refineries, and other economic a.s.sets-all of this together const.i.tuting one of the most infamous and profitless episodes in the history of American statecraft.

From the outset, Mongoose was bravado and swagger masquerading as policy. "We are in a combat situation-where we have been given full command," Lansdale announced in January 1962, adding that with "all the men, money, material, and spiritual a.s.sets of this most powerful nation on earth," failure was not an option.26 At Robert Kennedy's urging, Lansdale cobbled together an ambitious program to "help the Cubans overthrow the Communist regime from within Cuba and inst.i.tute a new government with which the United States can live in peace." At Robert Kennedy's urging, Lansdale cobbled together an ambitious program to "help the Cubans overthrow the Communist regime from within Cuba and inst.i.tute a new government with which the United States can live in peace."

The resulting plan distributed among various executive departments and agencies thirty-two specific tasks, running the gamut from "inducing failures in food crops" and mounting sabotage attacks to recruiting defectors and devising "songs, symbols, [and] propaganda themes" to boost the morale of an all but nonexistent indigenous resistance. According to Lansdale, accomplishing this menu of tasks would culminate with Castro's overthrow. The target date for completion: October 1962.27 The manic activity that followed included a p.r.o.nounced element of opera bouffe. The slogan devised to inspire the Cuban opposition (task 27) was "Guasano Libre," loosely translated by one unimpressed State Department official as "worms of the world unite."28 Concerted attempts by the Defense Department to induce Cuban exiles to enlist in the U.S. armed forces (task 32) yielded a meager total of 142 Concerted attempts by the Defense Department to induce Cuban exiles to enlist in the U.S. armed forces (task 32) yielded a meager total of 142 recruits. Hundreds more expressed interest only to be rejected on "moral and security grounds." The explanation for this puzzling problem? Most of the would-be warriors, reported Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatric, "were found unacceptable on the basis of admitted s.e.xual deviations." recruits. Hundreds more expressed interest only to be rejected on "moral and security grounds." The explanation for this puzzling problem? Most of the would-be warriors, reported Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatric, "were found unacceptable on the basis of admitted s.e.xual deviations."29 Within weeks, it became evident that prospects for fomenting an uprising inside Cuba were remote. Sabotage, hara.s.sment, propagandizing, economic warfare, and a.s.sa.s.sination plots would not suffice to eliminate Castro. Disappointment did not, however, persuade the administration to rea.s.sess its objectives, nor is there evidence that it abandoned Lansdale's timetable. Instead, Mongoose underwent a metamorphosis. Rather than itself serving as the instrument of decision, it became an interim step, intended to pave the way for "the instantaneous commitment of sufficient armed forces to occupy the country, destroy the regime, free the people, and establish in Cuba a peaceful country."30 As early as March 1962, therefore, Lansdale was asking the Pentagon to provide "a brief but precise description of pretexts which the JCS believes desirable" to justify "direct military intervention." As early as March 1962, therefore, Lansdale was asking the Pentagon to provide "a brief but precise description of pretexts which the JCS believes desirable" to justify "direct military intervention."31 From our present vantage point, with the pa.s.sing of several decades during which nine of Kennedy's successors managed to coexist with Castro even as the Kennedy brothers achieved the status of secular saints, Operation Mongoose appears inexplicable. Suffice it to say that by the end of 1961, the Kennedy administration was fixating on Fidel Castro with the same feverish intensity as the Bush administration exactly forty years later was to fixate on Saddam Hussein-and with as little strategic logic.

In its determination to destroy the Cuban Revolution, the Kennedy administration heedlessly embarked upon what was, in effect, a program of state-sponsored terrorism. In substance if not in scope, the actions of the United States toward Cuba during the early 1960s bear comparison with Iranian and Syrian support for proxies engaging in terrorist activities against Israel since the 1980s. The princ.i.p.al difference is that, whereas Hamas and Hezbollah have achieved considerable success, at least in enhancing their political standing, the U.S. attempt to unseat Castro achieved none whatsoever. Apart from expending the lives of several dozen guileless exiles who, at the CIA's behest, attempted to infiltrate their home island, those efforts were stillborn. From a moral and legal point of view, Operation Mongoose was indefensible. From a practical point of view, it turned out to be arguably even more stupid than Operation Zapata. was, in effect, a program of state-sponsored terrorism. In substance if not in scope, the actions of the United States toward Cuba during the early 1960s bear comparison with Iranian and Syrian support for proxies engaging in terrorist activities against Israel since the 1980s. The princ.i.p.al difference is that, whereas Hamas and Hezbollah have achieved considerable success, at least in enhancing their political standing, the U.S. attempt to unseat Castro achieved none whatsoever. Apart from expending the lives of several dozen guileless exiles who, at the CIA's behest, attempted to infiltrate their home island, those efforts were stillborn. From a moral and legal point of view, Operation Mongoose was indefensible. From a practical point of view, it turned out to be arguably even more stupid than Operation Zapata.

How can we explain this? Why did an administration whose senior members fancied themselves to be pragmatic and a.n.a.lytical go off the deep end in its pursuit of a dictator governing a country that, in 1961, boasted a population of slightly less than six million, a per capita income one-fifth that of the United States, and negligible military power?32 No doubt domestic politics provides at least a partial explanation. In his handling of the Bay of Pigs, President Kennedy looked weak and vacillating, opening himself up to withering criticism from the Republican opposition as well as from elements of the permanent government, notably the military and the CIA, skilled at manipulating the popular fear of communism for their own political purposes. Reenergizing the campaign to get Castro offered a way of reb.u.t.ting any charges that the young president lacked toughness and so could be circ.u.mvented or ignored. For Kennedy (and every president since), projecting an image of toughness became an essential part of the job description.

That said, the response to the Bay of Pigs also testified to the authority of the reigning precepts of national security. Even in the wake of a humiliating setback, they remained sacrosanct. After all, since the onset of the Cold War, covert action had established itself as the preferred instrument of power projection. As the most readily available means of satisfying Washington's appet.i.te for global interventionism, it complemented a nuclear a.r.s.enal that was considered absolutely essential but difficult to use. The methods devised by Allen Dulles and the methods perfected by Curtis LeMay worked in tandem to create the aura of secrecy, prestige, and power that now allowed presidents to a.s.sert and exercise quasi-imperial prerogatives. the authority of the reigning precepts of national security. Even in the wake of a humiliating setback, they remained sacrosanct. After all, since the onset of the Cold War, covert action had established itself as the preferred instrument of power projection. As the most readily available means of satisfying Washington's appet.i.te for global interventionism, it complemented a nuclear a.r.s.enal that was considered absolutely essential but difficult to use. The methods devised by Allen Dulles and the methods perfected by Curtis LeMay worked in tandem to create the aura of secrecy, prestige, and power that now allowed presidents to a.s.sert and exercise quasi-imperial prerogatives.

The Bay of Pigs fiasco had seemingly called into question the efficacy of covert operations. This Kennedy and his lieutenants, devoted to enhancing the authority of the presidency, were not prepared to accept. After all, the agenda being marketed under the banner of flexible response aimed not to reduce the options for projecting power but to enrich them, while ensuring that the president alone call the shots. Operation Mongoose's transformation from a program of subversion into a prelude to invasion hinted at where this search for more options pointed.

Not surprisingly, then, just as there was no serious effort to reevaluate the threat the Cuban Revolution posed to U.S. interests, so too there was no serious effort made to rea.s.sess the U.S. penchant for overthrowing governments not to its liking. To entertain either prospect would have required gifts of imagination (and, arguably, political courage) that neither Kennedy nor the other Cold Warriors of his inner circle possessed. The antidote to covert failure was-and this became a pattern in the future-to up the ante and devise overt alternatives.

Theodore Sorensen, special counsel to the president and a loyal chronicler of Camelot, found it heartening that Kennedy had taken from the Bay of Pigs episode "so many major lessons," gained "at so relatively small and temporary a cost." a loyal chronicler of Camelot, found it heartening that Kennedy had taken from the Bay of Pigs episode "so many major lessons," gained "at so relatively small and temporary a cost."33 Soon thereafter, those lessons "helped save the world." Soon thereafter, those lessons "helped save the world."34 Arthur Schlesinger, the Democratic court historian then serving as one of the president's special a.s.sistants, concurred. "[N]o one can doubt," he wrote, "that failure in Cuba in 1961 contributed to success in Cuba in 1962." Arthur Schlesinger, the Democratic court historian then serving as one of the president's special a.s.sistants, concurred. "[N]o one can doubt," he wrote, "that failure in Cuba in 1961 contributed to success in Cuba in 1962."35 To arrive at such exceedingly generous judgments, Sorensen and Schlesinger excluded from their accounts the postBay of Pigs vendetta against Castro that consumed the Kennedy brothers. To arrive at such exceedingly generous judgments, Sorensen and Schlesinger excluded from their accounts the postBay of Pigs vendetta against Castro that consumed the Kennedy brothers.

In fact, Kennedy and his advisers learned astonishingly little from the Bay of Pigs. In that action-oriented era, the tempo of CIA activity actually quickened. "Ike had undertaken 170 major covert CIA operations in eight years," writes Tim Weiner in his history of the CIA. "The Kennedys launched 163 major covert operations in less than three."36 In short, the only thing that mattered to the president and his brother was how to get Operation Zapata right the next time. In short, the only thing that mattered to the president and his brother was how to get Operation Zapata right the next time.

The president memorialized by Sorensen and Schlesinger was a singular figure, standing apart from the notably dull and pedestrian Eisenhower and from Kennedy's own immediate successor, the boorish Lyndon Johnson. Keepers of the JFK legend could never bring themselves to acknowledge that Zapata and Mongoose situated their hero squarely within a dubious tradition that predated his presidency and survived his a.s.sa.s.sination. Peas need not be identical to come from the same pod.

TO THE PRECIPICE.

Intended to deflect threats to U.S. security, the pattern of behavior that produced Zapata and Mongoose served instead to create threats where none had existed. So it was in 1962. In mid-August, the CIA warned General Lansdale that Soviet leaders intent on "deter[ring] an antic.i.p.ated US military intervention against Castro" might be tempted to "establish a medium-range missile base" in Cuba. instead to create threats where none had existed. So it was in 1962. In mid-August, the CIA warned General Lansdale that Soviet leaders intent on "deter[ring] an antic.i.p.ated US military intervention against Castro" might be tempted to "establish a medium-range missile base" in Cuba.37 Neither Lansdale nor anyone else in a position of influence paid much attention to this prescient forecast. Neither Lansdale nor anyone else in a position of influence paid much attention to this prescient forecast.

The Kennedy administration's obsessive pursuit of Castro had accomplished only one thing: It removed any doubts the Cuban dictator may have entertained about the dangers facing his regime. To defend his revolution, Castro looked to the Soviet Union, with which Cuba had already established a "fraternal" relationship. In response to his insistent entreaties, Nikita Khrushchev, general secretary of the Communist Party of the USSR-resenting Soviet strategic inferiority and keen to preserve Marxism's sole foothold in the Western Hemisphere-now offered protection in the form of generous Soviet security a.s.sistance: more and better weapons along with more trainers. In April 1962 Castro readily accepted this offer.38 At first, the weapons were defensive-antiaircraft missiles, for example. In May, however, the Soviet presidium added surface-to-surface ballistic missiles and nuclear warheads to the list. Shrouded in secrecy, these along with contingents of Red Army regulars soon began making their way toward Havana. The two preferred means of projecting U.S. power-covert operations and strategic attack-were now on a collision course. Washington's enthusiasm for clandestine warfare had emerged in part from the belief that it offered a way to solve problems without undue risk of triggering all-out war. Now the Kennedy administration's insistence on using covert means to liquidate its Castro problem would bring the world to the brink of a nuclear exchange.

Americans habitually a.s.sign responsibility for the ensuing Cuban missile crisis to the Soviet Union. According to the conventional story, Khrushchev, a boorish, bl.u.s.tering gambler given to emotional outbursts, overreached. Exhibiting coolness and sophistication, Kennedy then saved the day, thereby averting World War III. This self-justifying interpretation works only by confining the narrative to the famous "thirteen days," excluding most of what went before and much of what came after.

"Khrushchev should have realized," wrote Kennedy's secretary of state, Dean Rusk, in his memoirs, "that deploying missiles in Cuba was too threatening and destabilizing for the United States meekly to allow this to happen."39 On whether Kennedy should have realized that the Soviet Union would not meekly allow Castro's overthrow, Rusk is silent. Indeed, inside the administration the governing a.s.sumption was that the Soviets would remain pa.s.sive in the face of American provocations. An interagency "Plan for Cuba" declared categorically that "the USSR will not intervene militarily" to preserve the Cuban Revolution. Although the Soviets might ratchet up the pressure in Berlin or other hotspots, they were sure to "stop short of a direct major confrontation with the U.S." On whether Kennedy should have realized that the Soviet Union would not meekly allow Castro's overthrow, Rusk is silent. Indeed, inside the administration the governing a.s.sumption was that the Soviets would remain pa.s.sive in the face of American provocations. An interagency "Plan for Cuba" declared categorically that "the USSR will not intervene militarily" to preserve the Cuban Revolution. Although the Soviets might ratchet up the pressure in Berlin or other hotspots, they were sure to "stop short of a direct major confrontation with the U.S."40 Dismissing Operation Mongoose as "terribly ineffective"-and by implication inconsequential-Secretary of Defense McNamara found it hard to believe that either Cuba or the Soviet Union took seriously U.S. efforts to subvert Castro. After all, McNamara avowed long after the fact, prior to October 1962 the United States "had no plan to invade Cuba." When challenged on this point, he amended his statement: "Okay, we had no intent." Yet the veracity of even that a.s.sertion requires an exceedingly narrow definition of "we."41 In OPLAN 314-61, the military establishment over which In OPLAN 314-61, the military establishment over which McNamara presided had developed a detailed invasion plan that senior U.S. commanders by the autumn of 1962 were fully prepared-even eager-to implement. McNamara presided had developed a detailed invasion plan that senior U.S. commanders by the autumn of 1962 were fully prepared-even eager-to implement.42 Kennedy administration officials also rejected comparisons between the nuclear-tipped Jupiter missiles targeting the USSR from U.S.-controlled launch sites in Turkey and Italy and the subsequent Soviet decision to deploy nuclear-tipped missiles to Cuba. That a causal relationship might exist between the two, with U.S. actions inspiring or provoking a Soviet response, was not something they were prepared to consider. Kennedy's advisers deemed the Jupiters another part of the Eisenhower legacy, unworthy of anyone's serious attention. The U.S. missiles, wrote Sorensen, "had practically been forced on Italy and Turkey by an administration unable to find any worthwhile use for them." They were "obsolescent and of little military value."43 That the Kremlin might see matters differently-that the Jupiter's very vulnerability might persuade the Soviets to see it as a first-strike weapon-was inconceivable. That the Kremlin might see matters differently-that the Jupiter's very vulnerability might persuade the Soviets to see it as a first-strike weapon-was inconceivable.

Even as the administration sought to widen its edge over the Soviet Union in nuclear striking power and worked feverishly to subvert the Cuban Revolution, the men of Kennedy's inner circle remained certain of their good intentions. They abhorred war and yearned for permanent peace. If peace somehow remained elusive, the fault must necessarily lie with others-with the recklessness (or malevolence) of Fidel Castro and Nikita Khrushchev in the early 1960s, and Iran's Ayatollah Khomeini, Iraq's Saddam Hussein, and Al Qaeda's Osama bin Laden at a later date, all of whom maliciously misconstrued America's motives or stubbornly refused to endorse America's benign vision for world order.

When some event disrupts the American pursuit of peace-the missile crisis of 1962, the overthrow of the Shah of Iran in 1979, Saddam Hussein's a.s.sault on Kuwait in 1990, or the terrorist attacks of 9/11-those exercising power in Washington invariably depict the problem as appearing out of the blue, utterly devoid of historical context. The United States is either the victim or an innocent bystander, Washington's own past actions possessing no relevance to the matter at hand. Critics of the reigning national security consensus-skeptical scholars or political radicals-might suggest otherwise, but in the corridors of power such dissenters have no standing. of Iran in 1979, Saddam Hussein's a.s.sault on Kuwait in 1990, or the terrorist attacks of 9/11-those exercising power in Washington invariably depict the problem as appearing out of the blue, utterly devoid of historical context. The United States is either the victim or an innocent bystander, Washington's own past actions possessing no relevance to the matter at hand. Critics of the reigning national security consensus-skeptical scholars or political radicals-might suggest otherwise, but in the corridors of power such dissenters have no standing.

So although the dots connecting Zapata and Mongoose to the missile crisis were plainly evident, the Kennedy administration professed not to see them. In much the same way, the administration of George W. Bush would ignore the chain of events that paved the way for September 11, 2001: the overthrow of Iranian prime minister Mohammad Mossadegh and the fervent U.S. embrace of the shah in 1953, its deference to Israel since the 1960s, its marriage of convenience with Saddam in the 1980s, its support for jihadists in Soviet-occupied Afghanistan during that same decade, and its military occupation of the Persian Gulf after Operation Desert Storm in the 1990s-each one eminently justifiable according to the established precepts of national security policy, but together producing an explosive backlash. To acknowledge the relationship between these policy initiatives and 9/11 would be to call into question a national security tradition going back decades-this American leaders still refuse to consider.

To his enduring credit, in this moment of maximum peril, President Kennedy suspended that tradition, even if only briefly. For public consumption, the administration insisted-and never ceased to insist-that the surprise sprung by Cuba and the Soviet Union had come out of nowhere and was utterly without justification. Privately, however, Kennedy was willing to acknowledge the causal relationship between past U.S. actions and the problem he now confronted. Those on the other side had their own gripes, not least of all the relentless U.S. campaign to destabilize Cuba and the presence of U.S. nuclear-tipped missiles along the perimeter of the Soviet Union. Castro and Khrushchev were acting in ways that Kennedy himself would have acted, had circ.u.mstances been reversed. Negotiating a peaceful resolution of the missile crisis, therefore, required that Kennedy take their complaints into account. nowhere and was utterly without justification. Privately, however, Kennedy was willing to acknowledge the causal relationship between past U.S. actions and the problem he now confronted. Those on the other side had their own gripes, not least of all the relentless U.S. campaign to destabilize Cuba and the presence of U.S. nuclear-tipped missiles along the perimeter of the Soviet Union. Castro and Khrushchev were acting in ways that Kennedy himself would have acted, had circ.u.mstances been reversed. Negotiating a peaceful resolution of the missile crisis, therefore, required that Kennedy take their complaints into account.

In navigating a way out of a predicament that his own intemperate actions had helped induce, Kennedy did exhibit admirable coolness and sophistication. He ignored the goading of those, Maxwell Taylor and Curtis LeMay prominent among them, who insisted that (in LeMay's words) "we don't have any choice except direct military action." He opted instead for indirect action, a naval blockade styled as a "quarantine." In a Joint Chiefs of Staff meeting with the president, LeMay derided this decision as "almost as bad as the appeas.e.m.e.nt at Munich."44 In fact, LeMay knew only half the story. In exchange for Khrushchev's promise to remove Soviet nuclear weapons from Cuba, Kennedy was secretly offering the Russian leader important concessions. These included a pledge not to invade Cuba and a promise to quietly withdraw the Jupiters from Italy and Turkey. "Appeas.e.m.e.nt" by almost any definition of the term, this approach worked, at least in defusing the immediate crisis. In fact, LeMay knew only half the story. In exchange for Khrushchev's promise to remove Soviet nuclear weapons from Cuba, Kennedy was secretly offering the Russian leader important concessions. These included a pledge not to invade Cuba and a promise to quietly withdraw the Jupiters from Italy and Turkey. "Appeas.e.m.e.nt" by almost any definition of the term, this approach worked, at least in defusing the immediate crisis.

OVER THE EDGE.

What had Kennedy and his men learned from their brush with Armageddon? The conventional view is that they learned a lot, the chief evidence offered being a speech the president gave at American University on June 10, 1963. In this address, Kennedy vowed that the United States would do its "part to build a world of peace where the weak are safe and the strong are just." He invited Americans to rethink the Cold War, quit blaming the Soviet Union for the world's ills, and "help make the world safe for diversity." To emphasize his administration's support for a proposed permanent global ban on the atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons, he announced a unilateral suspension of further atmospheric tests by the Pentagon. learned a lot, the chief evidence offered being a speech the president gave at American University on June 10, 1963. In this address, Kennedy vowed that the United States would do its "part to build a world of peace where the weak are safe and the strong are just." He invited Americans to rethink the Cold War, quit blaming the Soviet Union for the world's ills, and "help make the world safe for diversity." To emphasize his administration's support for a proposed permanent global ban on the atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons, he announced a unilateral suspension of further atmospheric tests by the Pentagon.

The United States, as the world knows, will never start a war. We do not want a war. We do not now expect a war. This generation of Americans has already had enough-more than enough-of war and hate and oppression.

As interpreted by his admirers, the president's remarks heralded a major policy shift, with the United States henceforth oriented, in Kennedy's words, "not towards a strategy of annihilation but towards a strategy of peace."45 In fact, the shift entailed far less than was advertised. Having barely avoided war in the Caribbean, the United States was even then hurtling toward war in Southeast Asia. In fact, the shift entailed far less than was advertised. Having barely avoided war in the Caribbean, the United States was even then hurtling toward war in Southeast Asia.

The previous October during secret White House deliberations while the United States stood eyeball-to-eyeball with the Soviet Union, Maxwell Taylor had predicted that "if we do not destroy the missiles and bombers, we will have to change our entire military way of dealing with external threats."46 As the JCS chairman saw it, to give way over Cuba would be tantamount to abandoning the essential premises of national security policy. As the JCS chairman saw it, to give way over Cuba would be tantamount to abandoning the essential premises of national security policy.

Taylor need not have worried. Even though the United States did not destroy the Soviet missiles and bombers deployed to Cuba, the standard U.S. response to perceived external threats, emphasizing global military presence, power projection capabilities, and intervention, survived without a scratch. The peaceful resolution of the missile crisis in no way dampened the Kennedy administration's enthusiasm for flexible response or enriching the options available to the president for employing force. In this regard, the course of events in Vietnam testifies to the realities of U.S. policy far more accurately than does Kennedy's oft-cited speech at American University.

To be fair, Kennedy inherited a mess in Vietnam. Yet over the course of his brief tenure in office, he compounded that mess, pa.s.sing to his successor a far more difficult situation. There is no evidence that any lessons drawn from his administration's Cuban encounters had a positive effect on the way it dealt with Vietnam.

Whenever the subject of Vietnam comes up, Kennedy's defenders invariably explain what the president would have done had he not been a.s.sa.s.sinated in November 1963. Once elected to a second term, they insist, he intended to pull the plug on the American commitment to South Vietnam. "I think it highly probable," wrote Robert McNamara in his memoir, "that, had President Kennedy lived, he would have pulled us out of Vietnam."47 Those less enamored with the martyred president might be tempted to quote the protagonist of Ernest Hemingway's great novel of the 1920s, The Sun Also Rises The Sun Also Rises. The woman with whom Hemingway's protagonist Jake Barnes is in love suggests that, were it not for World War I, they might have lived happily ever after. "Yes," Jake replies. "Isn't it pretty to think so?"

In fact, Kennedy saw South Vietnam as the crucial test case of flexible response, an opportunity to demonstrate that counterinsurgency and nation-building techniques could defeat communist-inspired "wars of national liberation"-that when it came to projecting power, the United States had at hand tools other than those offered by the CIA and SAC.48 With this in mind, the president With this in mind, the president - increased the U.S. military presence in South Vietnam from nine hundred to nearly seventeen thousand "advisers."

- eased restrictions on U.S. military personnel, authorizing those advisers to engage in combat operations or in combat support operations like Operation Ranch Hand, in which U.S. Air Force aircraft dumped large quant.i.ties of defoliants such as Agent Orange on the Vietnamese countryside.49 - more than doubled the level of material support provided to the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN), including heavy equipment such as armored combat vehicles and field artillery along with more than three hundred military aircraft.50 - did nothing in his public representations to refute claims made by others in his administration-Taylor and McNamara in the forefront-that South Vietnam represented a vital U.S. national security interest.51 - permitted members of his inner circle to conspire with ARVN generals intent on toppling President Ngo Dinh Diem, installed by the United States as president of South Vietnam in 1955.52 In 1961 Vice President Lyndon Johnson had hailed Diem as the "Winston Churchill of Asia." Two years later, however, the South Vietnamese autocrat had become, in Washington's eyes, an intolerable impediment to U.S. efforts to defeat the communist insurgency, widely a.s.sumed to be directed by North Vietnam. the South Vietnamese autocrat had become, in Washington's eyes, an intolerable impediment to U.S. efforts to defeat the communist insurgency, widely a.s.sumed to be directed by North Vietnam.

The coup, launched on November 1, 1963, with direct involvement of both the U.S. amba.s.sador in Saigon, Henry Cabot Lodge, and the CIA, succeeded. The generals overthrew Diem and murdered him, choosing a U.S.-manufactured armored personnel carrier as the execution site. Washington had counted on Diem's removal to reenergize the war against the Viet Cong (VC). The generals who made the coup were expected to be more cooperative. In fact, operational success produced political catastrophe. In Saigon, the coup threw open the floodgates of instability and dysfunction. Three weeks later, with events in Vietnam careening out of control, Kennedy himself was dead.

Here was yet another debacle on a par with the Bay of Pigs, this time entirely of the administration's own making. American complicity in the coup again showed how little those around Kennedy had learned from the events that had occurred on their watch. a.s.sumptions that decisions made in Washington were sure to shape and determine the course of events far afield remained firmly in place. Having concluded that Diem was obstructing their purposes in Vietnam, they acted with astonishingly little consideration for the downside risks.

Kennedy's a.s.sa.s.sination freed the president from being called to account for all that ensued. In fact, as U.S. involvement evolved into a national nightmare, it became all the more necessary to hold the martyred president sinless. Doing so sustained the comforting belief that, were it not for an a.s.sa.s.sin's bullet, the United States might have avoided a decade of trauma involving war, division, demoralization, domestic upheaval, and defeat. Had fate only allowed Kennedy to live, the high ideals and visionary aspirations that he was said to have represented might have achieved fulfillment. domestic upheaval, and defeat. Had fate only allowed Kennedy to live, the high ideals and visionary aspirations that he was said to have represented might have achieved fulfillment.

In the popular imagination, none of the subsequent revelations about Kennedy's character have dented this wishful thinking. The problem with sacralizing his memory is not that it ignores his philandering, abuse of drugs, and concealment of chronic health problems, but that it creates an impression of discontinuity where none existed. The abrupt termination of Camelot did not ring down the curtain on some ambitious effort to reorient American statecraft. The Kennedy who embraced the strategy of overkill, sought to subvert the Cuban Revolution, and deepened the U.S. commitment to South Vietnam was continuing work that his predecessor had begun. When Lyndon Johnson replaced Kennedy in the Oval Office, the postwar tradition of American statecraft pa.s.sed into the hands of yet another faithful steward.

Taylor and McNamara restore our appreciation of those continuities. When Kennedy went to his reward, they stayed on to serve his successor-Taylor accepting LBJ's appointment to become U.S. amba.s.sador to Saigon in 1964 and McNamara remaining at his post in the Pentagon until 1968.

Taylor and McNamara did not see themselves as turncoats. They were not defiling Kennedy's memory. They were carrying on his work. The pursuit of options did not end with Kennedy's death.

FREEFALL.

Well over forty years after his pa.s.sing, the carefully burnished image of John F. Kennedy still glistens. Ngo Dinh Diem, meanwhile, has all but vanished from collective memory. Yet to a far greater extent than Kennedy's murder at the hands of a deranged gunman, Diem's overthrow, engineered by the U.S. government, qualifies as a historical turning point. Diem, meanwhile, has all but vanished from collective memory. Yet to a far greater extent than Kennedy's murder at the hands of a deranged gunman, Diem's overthrow, engineered by the U.S. government, qualifies as a historical turning point.

Once Diem pa.s.sed from the scene, the situation in South Vietnam quickly went from awful to far worse. For senior officials back in Washington, every available course of action now appeared unattractive. Devoted to the techniques inherent in the Washington consensus, however, and unable to conceive of an alternative approach to exercising "global leadership," they swallowed their doubts and plunged on. All of this happened to the accompaniment of considerable angst and hand wringing, with Taylor and McNamara playing pivotal roles. Making an equally important contribution was McGeorge Bundy, the bespectacled and b.u.t.toned-down former Harvard dean who had served as Kennedy's special a.s.sistant for national security affairs and who soldiered on in that capacity under Johnson.

At the urging of this unholy trio, Lyndon Johnson bet his presidency and his domestic vision of creating a "great society" on the proposition that the exceedingly unwelcome climes of Southeast Asia posed no barrier to the effective application of flexible response.

Again, the domestic political calendar dictated the tempo of decision making. In August 1964, the Tonkin Gulf incident-North Vietnamese gunboats allegedly launching unprovoked attacks against U.S. Navy warships-enabled Johnson to pocket a blank check for further war. Voting with near unanimity, a compliant Congress authorized him "to take all necessary measures to repeal any armed attack against the forces of the United States and to prevent any further aggression." Yet for the moment, Johnson, presenting himself in the 1964 presidential campaign as the candidate of peace and reason, temporized. Only after he had secured a full term as president did Vietnam claim his sustained attention. Then, with deteriorating conditions in Saigon permitting no further delay, the pace of events quickened. Between January and April 1965, the United States took full ownership of the Vietnam War. himself in the 1964 presidential campaign as the candidate of peace and reason, temporized. Only after he had secured a full term as president did Vietnam claim his sustained attention. Then, with deteriorating conditions in Saigon permitting no further delay, the pace of events quickened. Between January and April 1965, the United States took full ownership of the Vietnam War.

As McNamara described it, throughout this brief interval, the administration fixated exclusively on the "question of what military course to follow."53 That a viable military option might not exist or that nonmilitary alternatives deserved careful consideration were propositions that received scant attention. That a viable military option might not exist or that nonmilitary alternatives deserved careful consideration were propositions that received scant attention.

A long January 6 cable from Amba.s.sador Taylor to President Johnson set in motion the train of decisions that culminated in the full-fledged application of flexible response. The situation in Saigon looked bleak, Taylor reported.

We are faced here with a seriously deteriorating situation characterized by continued political turmoil, irresponsibility, and division within the armed forces, lethargy in the pacification program, some anti-US feeling which could grow, signs of mounting terrorism by VC directly at US personnel and deepening discouragement and loss of morale throughout [South Vietnam].

Absent urgent and forceful action by Washington, Taylor foresaw the emergence in Saigon of a government likely to seek "accommodation with the National Liberation Front and Hanoi." Diem, it turned out, had been an irreplaceable figure. "I doubt that anyone appreciated the magnitude of the centrifugal political forces which had been kept under control by his iron rule." the centrifugal political forces which had been kept under control by his iron rule."

Simply trying harder was unlikely to produce better results next week or next month. The advisory program-Taylor reported that there were now 23,700 U.S. military personnel in country-had "probably reached about the saturation point." The order of the day was to try something different. "The game needs to be opened up," Taylor advised, "and new opportunities offered for new breaks which hopefully may be in our favor."

In Taylor's view, opening up the game need not require the introduction of U.S. ground troops. Instead, the former army general and self-described skeptic regarding the efficacy of aerial bombardment pressed for a "program of graduated air attacks" directed against North Vietnam. Air power const.i.tuted "the most flexible weapon in our a.r.s.enal of military superiority," he wrote. Its skillful application would "bring pressure on the will" of those who governed in Hanoi.

"As practical men," Taylor continued, "they cannot wish to see the fruits of ten years of labor destroyed by slowly escalating air attacks (which they cannot prevent) without trying to find some accommodation which will exorcise the threat." In the meantime, this affirmation of America's commitment to South Vietnam was sure to "give the local morale a much needed shot in the arm," boosting flagging spirits and putting to rest suspicions that the United States might be looking for ways to cut its losses. Taylor concluded: "[W]e should look for an occasion to begin air operations just as soon as we have satisfactorily compromised the current political situation in Saigon."54 "Compromising" the political situation in Saigon implied establishing some semblance of a stable and effective South Vietnamese government. First, get the South on track politically, then hammer the North militarily: This was Taylor's proposed sequence. Unfortunately for his plan, there was little to suggest that further American coaching, chiding, or conspiring was going to fix the political situation in Saigon. As Taylor himself acknowledged, "No amount of persuasion or communication is going to make [the South Vietnamese] other than what they are over the short term." establishing some semblance of a stable and effective South Vietnamese government. First, get the South on track politically, then hammer the North militarily: This was Taylor's proposed sequence. Unfortunately for his plan, there was little to suggest that further American coaching, chiding, or conspiring was going to fix the political situation in Saigon. As Taylor himself acknowledged, "No amount of persuasion or communication is going to make [the South Vietnamese] other than what they are over the short term."55 Nonetheless, bombing the North-styled as "reprisals" to convey the sense that the United States was responding defensively to Viet Cong attacks in the South-now emerged as the favored next step. Nonetheless, bombing the North-styled as "reprisals" to convey the sense that the United States was responding defensively to Viet Cong attacks in the South-now emerged as the favored next step.

Johnson himself remained unconvinced. So the president's national security adviser and defense secretary now weighed in, prodding their boss to act. The United States, they argued, could no longer afford to wait for South Vietnam to get its act together. "Bob [McNamara] and I," wrote Bundy in a memo to the president on January 27, "are persuaded that there is no real hope of success in this area unless and until our own policy and priorities change." The confidence of the South Vietnamese in their patron and protector was, Bundy insisted, waning. Seeing "the enormous power of the United States withheld," they now doubted the depth of American seriousness.

By declaring that "we will not go further until there is a stable government" in Saigon, the administration had shackled itself to "a policy of first aid to squabbling politicos and pa.s.sive reaction to events we do not try to control.... Bob and I believe that the worst course of action is to continue in this essentially pa.s.sive role which can only lead to eventual defeat and an invitation to get out under humiliating circ.u.mstances."

The United States needed to shed its shackles. "We see two alternatives," Bundy added.

The first first is to use our military power in the Far East and to force a change in Communist policy. The is to use our military power in the Far East and to force a change in Communist policy. The second second is to deploy all our resources along a track of negotiation, aimed at salvaging what little can be preserved with no major addition to our present military risks. is to deploy all our resources along a track of negotiation, aimed at salvaging what little can be preserved with no major addition to our present military risks.56 Both he and McNamara, Bundy told the president, favored the first alternative. They could hardly do otherwise. To concede that American military power was inadequate to the task of making the North Vietnamese behave would nullify claims that flexible response was enhancing the utility of force while reducing the moral impediments to its employment-in other words, that it represented an improvement over the strategy of ma.s.sive retaliation that they openly disdained.

Instead, McNamara and Bundy had neatly removed one of the major obstacles to Taylor's proposed coercive air campaign-the a.s.sumption that the United States needed first to establish a stable government in Saigon.57 All that remained was to find a convenient excuse for launching such a campaign. All that remained was to find a convenient excuse for launching such a campaign.

This the Viet Cong obligingly provided on February 6, 1965, when they attacked Camp Holloway, the U.S. air base at Pleiku, killing eight Americans, wounding dozens more, and destroying ten U.S. military aircraft.

"Pleikus are like streetcars," Bundy subsequently remarked. The key was to be ready to hop aboard when one came trundling along.58 Visiting Taylor in Saigon at the time of the Pleiku attack, Bundy was ready for his streetcar. Visiting Taylor in Saigon at the time of the Pleiku attack, Bundy was ready for his streetcar.

Within twenty-four hours he was cabling Johnson that, absent a "policy of graduated and continuing reprisal," defeat in South Vietnam appeared "inevitable-probably not in a matter of weeks or perhaps even months, but within the next year or so." To attempt a negotiated settlement was folly, amounting to "surrender on the installment plan." Immediately at risk were not only "the international prestige of the United States" but also "a substantial part of our influence."59 An opportunity to regain the initiative and turn things around was now presenting itself. An opportunity to regain the initiative and turn things around was now presenting itself.

One point deserves particular emphasis here. For Bundy and others in the administration, the urge to act grew out of considerations unrelated to the crisis of the moment or even to Vietnam as such. The formal report rendered by the Bundy mission let the cat out of the bag. "We cannot a.s.sert that a policy of sustained reprisal will succeed in changing the course of the contest in Vietnam," that report acknowledged. "What we can say is that even if it fails, the policy will be worth it." The very act of bombing the North would demonstrate American will, "damp[ing] down the charge that we did not do all that we could have done." Pain inflicted on the North Vietnamese would "set a higher price for the future upon all adventures of guerrilla warfare," thereby increasing "our ability to deter such adventures." In effect, the United States needed to bomb North Vietnam to affirm its claims to global primacy and quash any doubts about American will. Somehow, in faraway Southeast Asia, the continued tenability of the Washington consensus was at stake.60 Clambering onto his streetcar, Bundy found plenty of company already aboard. Within the administration, his own efforts, reinforced by those of Taylor and McNamara, had forged a solid majority in favor of escalation. On February 8, back in Washington and presiding over a meeting of the National Security Council, Bundy polled those in attendance and found that "without dissent, all agreed to act, that we should apply force against the North." According to notes taken at the meeting, McNamara chimed in with the comment "that we should move forward and should keep going." 8, back in Washington and presiding over a meeting of the National Security Council, Bundy polled those in attendance and found that "without dissent, all agreed to act, that we should apply force against the North." According to notes taken at the meeting, McNamara chimed in with the comment "that we should move forward and should keep going."61 Soon thereafter, President Johnson gave his consent. Soon thereafter, President Johnson gave his consent.

In this case, moving forward had a specific meaning. Declaring its determination to prevent further incidents like Pleiku, the Johnson administration decided to subject North Vietnam to a campaign of sustained aerial bombardment. In effect, self-defense provided a rationale-or pretext-for making a small war bigger, for loosening those shackles on American military might, and for going on the offensive.

Much the same thing, of course, occurred after September 11, 2001. Averting further terrorist attacks provided a rationale-or pretext-for launching a "global war on terror," for shedding any remaining constraints on the use of American power, and for invading Afghanistan and Iraq. In its own way, 9/11 was also a streetcar that members of the George W. Bush administration seized upon with the same alacrity that Bundy and his colleagues had seized upon Pleiku.

As in 2001 so in 1965, the underlying purpose was anything but defensive. In the wake of painful tragedy, U.S. officials preoccupied themselves not with protecting exposed American a.s.sets (whether Camp Holloway or Manhattan), but with doubling down on the existing approach to exercising global leadership. In both cases they rejected out of hand the possibility that such an approach might itself render the United States more vulnerable rather than more secure. For Washington, the essential response to setbacks, whether relatively modest as in February 1965 or calamitous as in September 2001, is not thoughtful reflection but energetic action, preemptively diverting attention away from the existing premises of national security. relatively modest as in February 1965 or calamitous as in September 2001, is not thoughtful reflection but energetic action, preemptively diverting attention away from the existing premises of national security.

On his way back from Saigon, Bundy made a special point of rea.s.suring Johnson that "U.S. policy within Vietnam is mainly right and well-directed." Naysayers didn't know what they were talking about and could be ignored. "None of the special solutions or criticisms put forward with zeal by individual reformers in government or in the press is of major importance, and many of them are flatly wrong."62 In 1965 as in 2001, naysayers with access to the White House were few in number. In the wake of Pleiku, the role of lonely dissenter fell to Senator Mike Mansfield, the Democrat from Montana who was then Senate majority leader. In a city where esteem is the reward of well-regarded figures who don't wield much clout, Mansfield was said to be much esteemed.

Yet his critique of the Pleiku incident and its aftermath merits our attention. In a letter to President Johnson on February 8, Mansfield had the temerity to suggest that the Viet Cong had penetrated Camp Holloway because the Americans there had failed to properly defend themselves. The problem, he told the president, was one of "lax" security. The failure resembled another recent incident, in Bien Hoa, where "we were caught off guard." The solution to the problem was not to bomb North Vietnam. It was to do a better job of manning the perimeter.63 Much the same argument might have been made after 9/11: Nineteen jihadists armed with box cutters perpetrated the most devastating attack on the United States since the War of 1812 because security at American airports was lax. To avert a recurrence, the United States might have attended to repairing its defenses. Instead, within twenty-four hours, senior officials in the Bush administration were pressing for an invasion of Iraq, a country not involved in the 9/11 conspiracy. To avert a recurrence, the United States might have attended to repairing its defenses. Instead, within twenty-four hours, senior officials in the Bush administration were pressing for an invasion of Iraq, a country not involved in the 9/11 conspiracy.

As in 2001 so too in 1965, defense-protecting Americans from harm-never figured as more than an afterthought. At stake was a thoroughly militarized conception of statecraft to which those at the center of power remained deeply wedded. Those adhering to that conception-officials like Bundy, McNamara, and Taylor in 1965 or d.i.c.k Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, and Paul Wolfowitz in 2001-depicted the vigorous exercise of American leadership (by which they meant the vigorous application of hard power) as essential to peace. When leadership thus defined yielded not peace but war, questions naturally arose about the efficacy of that conception. Sustaining the Washington consensus-and preserving the status of those whose authority derived from their ostensible ability to interpret that consensus-meant suppressing such questions. In practice, this meant that the only permissible response to violence was more violence.

Mansfield's critique challenged that consensus. Deepening the U.S. involvement in the war would exacerbate rather than alleviate the nation's security problems, he told the president. Given existing commitments to some forty-two "countries or groups of countries scattered around the world," the United States was already facing the risk of overextension. Although Mansfield couldn't specify a solution to the particular predicament posed by South Vietnam, he felt certain that "the trend toward enlargement of the conflict ... is not going to provide one."64 Mansfield may not have articulated an alternative to the Washington rules, but he was implicitly