Robert McNamara Faces History and Himself on Vietnam
After decades of silence, memoir brings admission: 'We were wrong, terribly wrong'
IN RETROSPECT: THE TRAGEDY AND LESSONS OF VIETNAMSkip to next paragraph
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By Robert S. McNamara with Brian VanDeMark
Times Books/Random House, 374 pp. $27.50
Robert McNamara emerged politically in 1961, a brash, confident secretary of defense who amazed Washington by battling the Pentagon. He raised tough questions, demanded precise answers, brought a management team with him from Ford Motor Company (his ''Whiz Kids'' and their systems analysis from academia), and attacked traditional Pentagon log-rolling. The media and public were impressed, however much the military and their Congressional allies raged.
But mid-1963 brought crisis in South Vietnam, and this secretary of defense rapidly became a secretary of war, the very symbol of American military power. He seemed as confident as ever, though the growing stalemate in 1965 and after brought news media hints that McNamara actually had turned against the war. Nevertheless, he remained until February 1968, resigning only to become head of the World Bank.
Now, at age 78, McNamara has chosen to break his long silence, perhaps in response to Deborah Shapley's fairminded yet critical ''Power and the Promise: The Life and Times of Robert McNamara'' (Little, Brown, 1993). The result is ''In Retrospect: The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam,'' a selective, heavily footnoted work.
The book's earnest, dullish style is closer to academic prose than to general narrative. It presents McNamara sympathetically, as a man blocked by circumstances from moderating a terrible war, but one who now sets the record straight by confessing the error of his ways and those of his colleagues.
This is not the usual memoir, replete with stories and shrewd insights, but a troubled and self-accusatory book. Its overtones of guilt, confession, and public recognition of them return us to Richard Nixon's Checkers speech and Bill Clinton's statements on his military draft history.
When asked about writing his memoirs, France's Marshall Henri Philippe Petain allegedly replied, ''Why? I have nothing to hide.'' McNamara, of course, has plenty to hide: seven years as defense chief while war escalated.
Why did he wait so long to resign? His explanation is hardly convincing. Dean Acheson, for one, resigned early in the New Deal on a point of principle. Cyrus Vance, for another, quit as secretary of state in opposition to the Iran hostage rescue mission in 1980. And McGeorge Bundy, whom McNamara fervently admires and whose remarks are among the few shrewd insights in the book -- ''The briefings of McNamara [by the military] tend to be sessions where people try to fool him, and he tries to convince them they cannot'' quit his post of national security adviser early in 1966, two years before McNamara did.
Why, then, did he personally support the war? The answer that appears and reappears is: ''mistake.'' We were mistaken; we were unwisely fixated on international communism (especially Chinese communism), and we didn't understand either the nationalist character of Vietnamese communism or the weakness of the various Saigon governments.