home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1990s
/
Time_Almanac_1990s_SoftKey_1994.iso
/
time
/
021494
/
0214030.000
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1994-05-26
|
11KB
|
204 lines
<text id=94TT0194>
<title>
Feb. 14, 1994: Peace Finally At Hand
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1994
Feb. 14, 1994 Are Men Really That Bad?
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
VIETNAM, Page 34
Peace Finally At Hand
</hdr>
<body>
<p>As Washington ends its embargo, Hanoi welcomes Yankees back,
signaling a fresh start for old foes
</p>
<p>By James Walsh--Reported by John Colmey and William Dowell/Hong Kong, Jay Peterzell/Washington
and Barbara Rudolph/New York
</p>
<p> Lyndon Johnson called it a "damned little pissant country."
Even less flattering language was used by many of the half a
million Americans in uniform who made their way through, around
and above it: trooping across swamps, languishing in Quonset
huts, piloting PT boats, spacing out on drugs, shelling from
offshore, amputating limbs, bombing from B-52s, killing, maiming--and getting maimed and killed. How all that ended is well
known. Bill Clinton, a college dissenter during the height of
hostilities in Vietnam, showed last week that he could put a
coda to that sad history and make a fresh start at pacification,
this time with butter instead of guns. His lifting of Washington's
30-year-old trade embargo against Hanoi amounted to the final
farewell to arms in the long, dismal, tortured struggle that
devoured much of the best resources of both countries.
</p>
<p> Even so, the President looked uncomfortable doing it. The outstanding
issue between the U.S. and Vietnam is one that can still turn
out to be a land mine for this war-era draft avoider: the final
disposition of American servicemen whose fate in battle remains
unresolved. In his announcement Clinton deferred elaborately
to the families of those missing in action, stressing that he
was "absolutely convinced" that ending the embargo would best
serve their interests.
</p>
<p> The salve was probably warranted, but most Americans did not
require it. They had long since accepted the need to close the
books on their country's most anguished 20th century war. "The
drumbeat of history is moving in the opposite direction," declared
Jan Scruggs, one of the movers behind the Vietnam Memorial,
the black, V-shaped granite wall that draws thousands of poignant
pilgrimages every year to Washington, "and we have to catch
up with the rest of the world."
</p>
<p> For now, Hanoi's breakthrough to its old foe is less than total.
Though the two sides are setting up liaison offices to handle
their interests, Washington is withholding diplomatic recognition
pending what Clinton called "more progress, more cooperation,
more answers" on missing servicemen. The list, which technically
numbers 2,238, is actually far shorter. The Pentagon is satisfied
that only 73 unresolved cases remain in which the missing combatants
could conceivably have been captured alive. Some families, and
supporting groups of veterans, hotly dispute such a short list,
calling Clinton a victim of bureaucratic flimflam.
</p>
<p> The President took pains to meet with representatives of the
veterans before the announcement. The sessions were clearly
sensitive for him. When he delivered a Memorial Day speech at
the Vietnam Memorial last year--at the point when controversy
over plans to admit gays to the military was still high--many
veterans turned their backs on the new Commander in Chief and
shouted catcalls. Last week Clinton denied he had put a commercial
gold rush ahead of veterans' concerns, which a top aide insisted
were his "sole consideration." The logic was that Vietnam needed
a show of good faith by the U.S. to ensure settling the MIA
issue permanently.
</p>
<p> Vietnamese leaders feel they have gone a long way by turning
over remains and releasing archives. They have long been angling
for the prize of U.S. trade and investment, which signals for
them final access to the expanding circle of prosperity on the
Pacific Rim. With its five-year-old, China-style market reforms
known as doi moi, or economic renovation, the country of 70
million is hailed by entrepreneurs as one of the most fertile
frontiers remaining for international investment.
</p>
<p> How rich a prospect? Says Levi Richardson, manager of Vietnam
affairs for the U.S.-ASEAN Council for Business and Technology:
"There will be phenomenal growth. They're starting at ground
zero." The U.S.-ASEAN Council, which includes many of the FORTUNE
500 companies that do business in Southeast Asia, has conducted
the only systematic survey of Vietnam's business opportunities;
it expects roughly $2.6 billion worth of trade and investment
to flow within two years and $8.2 billion within five. Even
then, Vietnam would not be "a powerhouse like Indonesia and
other ASEAN countries," Richardson admits, "but people expect
it to become a significant trading partner."
</p>
<p> Optimists see one of the most significant economic opportunities
of the next decade: the rebuilding virtually from the ground
up of Southeast Asia's second most populous nation. A land that
underwent almost 30 years of continuous warfare--including
bombing by more tonnage of explosives than was dropped by the
Allies on Germany in World War II--is still largely ruined
terrain. About 4,000 bridges and 50,000 miles of roads need
to be replaced or repaired. Hanoi anticipates spending about
$1 billion before the turn of the century on harbor-dredging
projects alone. The country also needs power plants, additional
airliners and new hotels, dozens of which are already under
construction in Saigon, now called Ho Chi Minh City.
</p>
<p> The enthusiasts believe that assets like oil, timber and an
industrious, literate population are the makings of another
Asian miracle. Harder heads are skeptical, noting that the nation
consolidated by Ho Chi Minh's heirs after the 1975 fall of Saigon
is poverty-stricken and still at least partly under the thumb
of ancient Marxists. Per capita income remains at $200 a year,
one of the poorest in the world. Says Julian Reid, a director
of Jardine Fleming Securities in Hong Kong: "In the medium to
long term, Vietnam is extremely exciting. The short term is
full of frustrations."
</p>
<p> Nevertheless, the world has been beating a path to the reforming
communist country's door, and American business scouts have
been like frustrated greyhounds in the traps, waiting to spring.
Practically within minutes after Clinton's announcement, Pepsi-Cola
was passing out free cans of Pepsi on the streets of Ho Chi
Minh City. United Airlines promised to inaugurate regular flights
from Los Angeles quickly. American Express signed a contract
to return with its charge cards, the first to be admitted in
19 years. A regime that used to revile Uncle Sam as an imperialist
aggressor was rolling out the welcome mat for a strategic economic
partnership with Yankee might and know-how.
</p>
<p> At least 34 U.S. firms have set up in-country offices, and several
of them were waiting only for Clinton's go-ahead before putting
ink to paper. Pepsi's rival Coca-Cola has lined up two joint
ventures; Cokes will sell for the equivalent of 10 cents each.
Division president Andrew Angle explains, "We want to keep the
price as low as we can. We think Vietnam, with its hot, humid
climate, has the potential to become one of our major markets
in Asia."
</p>
<p> Mobil Oil has an inside track too. It is prepared to buy a 38%
stake in a consortium that will explore the offshore Blue Dragon
field about 150 miles southeast of Ho Chi Minh City. Some outside
consultants believe Vietnam is saving for American interests
a share in the offshore Big Bear field. It would be a significant
move. Big Bear stretches over South China Sea beds also claimed
by China, which has been flexing its naval muscle in the neighborhood.
Should the People's Republic begin exploiting the field in waters
it controls, it could drain away profits important to Hanoi.
American involvement would be an effective political counterweight.
</p>
<p> Lack of legal safeguards is a large cloud on the golden horizon,
though Hanoi recently passed its first bankruptcy code after
the war. Another major caveat: a near dearth of normal banking
procedures. Can a stock exchange open in the country before
the end of the year, as Vietnam hopes? Hong Kong analyst Reid
doubts it: "You can't even write a check. The largest currency
denomination is a 50,000-dong bill [about $5]. If you wanted
to buy $1 million worth of stock, you'd have to go around with
eight wheelbarrows full of cash."
</p>
<p> A more basic quandary is the political system, reform communist
in name but still pouring revenues into antiquated, money-losing
state-owned industries. Bureaucratic decisions are almost whimsical,
says Meridee Matson, vice president of Dallas-based Channel
Marketing Corp. Her firm won a license to do business in the
country two months ago. "Things change on a daily basis," she
says. "You think something's been approved, and it's not." She
adds, "No one wants to talk about it, but bribery is very big
over there. If people don't want cash under the table, they
want a paid trip to the U.S."
</p>
<p> What Hanoi has yet to show is whether its market experiments
are built to last. Bui Diem, a former South Vietnamese ambassador
to Washington, faults the revolutionary generation itself for
leading the country down a bombed-out economic road. "For Vietnam
to become some kind of new tiger," he argues, "you need economic
development and political liberalization. The party is in control.
Its leaders can change the laws the way they want. If there's
no liberalization, there's no possibility of long-range, stable
development."
</p>
<p> All the same, Vietnamese tend to believe that the return of
Uncle Sam, offering strategic security with one hand and commercial
goodwill with the other, will redeem a history of mutual mistakes.
"Everyone I know is interested in doing business in Vietnam,"
says Hong Kong-based U.S. businessman Warren Williams. "Expectations
on both sides are unrealistic. When I was there in the mid-
to late '60s, the Vietnamese thought nothing would go right
until the Americans got out. Now they say nothing will go right
until the Americans come back. I thought they were wrong then,
and I think they are wrong now." Fair warning: a generation
after 58,000 Americans and 650,000 Vietnamese died fighting
one another, Clinton's fresh start may prefigure some disillusionments.
But it is a welcome start to a better future for all that.
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>