It would be wrong to push comparisons between the Vietnamese and Bengali situations too far, but recent simple comparative ironies are irresistible. In Saigon we see an American ambassador distraught as his carefully contrived plans for a democratic Presidential election crumple. If Uncle Sam's continuing involvement is not (partially) about freedom, what is it about? In Dacca—another crucial Asian venue—America sings a totally different diplomatic song. American ships still deliver arms to stock the Punjabi army. American planes free PIA Boeings to ferry more troops east. American aid flows on. In Saigon, there is overt embarrassment because President Thieu plays the strong man too thoroughly. In the White House Nixon aides stress the President's "high regard" for Yahya Khan, while State Department officials talk of the need "to preserve Pakistan on the Islamic basis," a bulwark for subcontinental stability. Furthermore, Mr. Nixon "believes India is guilty of exacerbating a tense and still explosive confrontation." India, which just happens to have 7 million refugees parked on its desperate doorstep by Yahya and his Islamic bulwark of infantry.
Now clearly this bizarre turn of American policy, following hard upon early revulsion at Yahya's wildnesses, is not the sole bar to Bengali development. But it is a crucial bar and one which, in the past few weeks, has come to seem Islamabad's main Western support. Does the UN pussy-foot and mealy-mouth? Washington gives it full permission to linger. Can Bangla Desh be left alone to fight its disastrous battles? Washington opts for evasive stability. Sir Alec Douglas-Home says how much the bloody repression of the army horrifies him. Mr. Nixon says nothing. Mr. Nixon, presumably, will do nothing either until fully fledged war breaks out.
And yet for any democratic country, professing to hold the ideals of democracy dear, East Pakistan presents straightforward gut issues. Pakistan conducted a free, uncorrupted election. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman won it. Yahya Khan (elected by no one but a few other generals) fell out with Mujib about the details and extent of transferring power. Mujib may be alive or dead at the moment, but is probably alive undergoing secret military trial before collecting secret military condemnation. Many of his followers are dead, shot by the army overnight. Others are scattered with the refugee hordes—a burden destined to cost India £416 millions a year on latest estimates. Where only last year there was peaceful balloting there is now escalating guerrilla conflict, starvation, and a spread of paralysed peasant terror. Pakistan as a meaningful entity has ceased to exist. Bengali diplomats flee the service (or start their own rebel missions).
Bengali army officers are under arrest or confined to barracks. Bengalis in all walks of public life are shunned. They cannot be their own civil servants, their own police any longer. East Pakistan is a country under external subjugation—not remotely, not foreseeably the senior half of a meaningful national partnership. Time and again of late Yahya has announced an imminent visit there. He has not even managed that yet—a President with a sham of a country.
Seen in this light, America's reaction oscillates between the malevolent and chillingly naive: a Big Power play divorced, however sincerely, from the little men—the millions of them—who will eventually mould events. Of course, India does not want an open battle at this time. But as the refugee stream creeps inexorably towards 10 millions (with Western relief running at no more than a quarter of the minimum rate necessary) cool calculation will be swept aside. Indo-Pakistani war is not unthinkable : it happened six years ago: So much for stability. So much for a moderating influence which has failed to postpone Mujib's trial and may, on State Department admission, fail to prevent his execution.
For months now Sir Alec—apart from occasional disdainful speeches—has seemed at a loss how to carry forward his Pakistani policies. At least one course of action becomes daily clearer—a visit to the White House and some cogent argument. An all-out effort to dent Mr. Nixon's "high regard." That will not end the tragedy of Bangla Desh, or even begin to solve it. But it will be a step towards righteousness, a mitigation, a clearing of the ground for fresher and more direct action.