A Bright Shining Lie John Paul Vann and America in Vietnam
This passionate, epic account of the Vietnam War centers on Lt. Col. John Paul Vann, whose story illuminates America’s failures and disillusionment in Southeast Asia. Vann was a field adviser to the army when American involvement was just beginning. He quickly became appalled at the corruption of the South Vietnamese regime, their incompetence in fighting the Communists, and their brutal alienation of their own people. Finding his superiors too blinded by political lies to understand that the war was being thrown away, he secretly briefed reporters on what was really happening. One of those reporters was Neil Sheehan. This definitive expose on why America lost the war won the Pulitzer Prize for nonfiction in 1989.
User Ratings and Reviews
5 Stars The Fiasco, again…
An absolutely essential book to read, and even with its length, to re-read again, since so many of the lessons that should have been learned were not, and the mistakes are being repeated, as Thomas Ricks has so well documented in his own excellent book on Iraq, entitled “Fiasco.”
Neil Sheehan, as a journalist, entered the Vietnam War in the very earliest phases of the American involvement, in 1962. Not long thereafter, he crossed paths with John Paul Vann, a Lt. Colonel, developed an admiration for him because of his frank assessments of the conditions on the ground, which were all too often at variance with his superior’s desires and delusions. For the next ten years their paths would cross, and re-cross again, and finally Sheehan visited the grove of trees near Kontum, where Vann’s helicopter crashed, killing him and all on board, in 1972. Sheehan correctly saw Vann’s life as a meaningful framework for explaining the larger dimensions of the war. Sheehan spent years piecing together the missing and hidden parts of Vann’s life before publishing this quintessential account of the war. It is a comprehensive, overall view, covering the historical, political, media, and military dimensions of the war, with an emphasis on the hubris and folly of the enterprise.
Sheehan draws the reader in with an account of the funeral of Vann, in Washington DC. The attendees underscored Vann contacts, and personification of the war, and these including the journalist Joseph Alsop; an old friend, and now a person with opposite views on the war, Daniel Elsberg; General Edward Lansdale, thinly disguised subject of the novel “The Ugly American;” Senator Edward Kennedy; General William Westmoreland; William Colby, former head of the CIA, William Rodgers; former Sec. of State, and Melvin Laird; former Sec. of Defense. A grouping of the “Best and the Brightest” as fellow journalist David Halberstam would sardonically dub them. As an indication of the shift in the popular culture, the classic anti-war song, “Where Have All the Flowers Gone” was played. Afterwards there would be a medal-awarding ceremony at the White House, and Sheehan describes the dissension in Vann’s own family to this event.
On Sheehan’s arrival in Vietnam in 1962 he readily admits that he believed the “party line” of the political establishment of the time, that the struggle in Vietnam was all part of the global anti-communism crusade and a defense of freedom. Although a journalist, and unlike many of his colleagues who viewed themselves as needing to place the proper “spin” on events, when he went into the laboratory, and noticed that the facts were often at variance with the theory, like a good scientist, he decided the theory was faulty.
Concerning the events in the laboratory that changed his outlook: Diem, the South Vietnamese Prime Minister won 98% of the vote; the memorials to the Vietnamese communists who were killed in ‘55 and ‘56, allegedly during a time of peace, awaiting the upcoming election that would re-unify the country, sine the Geneva conventions of ‘54 specifically stated that the division was only temporary; the casual attitude of the American military hierarchy to Vietnamese civilian deaths, as well as the torture of prisoners (”Yeah, war is hell”). One of the biggest specific events that changed his mind was the Battle of Ap Bac, in 1963, two years prior to the commencement of the American buildup. The Viet Cong had, though outnumbered, bluntly whipped the South Vietnamese Army forces. Like Bernard Fall before him, making the observation about Dien Bien Phu, the Vietnamese on the Communist side had been better motivated, and fought harder than the Vietnamese on the non-Communist side. Sheehan was likewise appalled by the detachment and self-delusion of the American commander, General Harkins. On p 285 he summed it up by saying that: “the dominant characteristics of the senior leadership of the American armed forces had become professional arrogance, lack of imagination, and moral and intellectual insensitivity.” Furthermore, Sheehan examines the various structural deficiencies of the leadership’s mindset, noting that there were only “progress reports,” never “lost way reports.” Jonathan Schell noted the same phenomenon in his book, “The Military Half.” On the after battle action forms there were no blanks for “civilian homes destroyed.” Sheehan reserves a particular animus for Defense Secretary McNamera, a Rumsfeld precursor, who personified hubris. One of my favorite sections has always been when Sheehan tried to see him during one of McNamera’s brief visits to Vietnam, and was brushed off with a: “Every quantitative measurement we have shows that we’re winning this war.”
In the section on “Antecedents to the Man” Sheehan does an excellent job in writing the biography of a profoundly flawed man, John Paul Vann, who was illegitimate, unloved by his mother, and obtained the most affection in his young life from a pedophile. For Vann the Army was the path towards respectability, and Sheehan documents his career from Korea, through Germany to eventually the battle of Ap Bac. Troubles with his superiors over his philandering, and a statutory rape charge were the real reason Vann resigned from the military. There is a wonderful line in the movie Dr. Zhivago that “happy men don’t enlist” as others are swept away by war fever. Clearly Vann saw the war as his salvation, and was back in 1965, working for the US agency, AID. For those in a position of power in Vietnam, it was a wonderful place to exercise “sexual imperialism” at the expense of Vietnamese woman. Vann had two permanent Vietnamese liaisons, and many, many flings. In most books this aspect of the war is omitted, so it is very much to Sheehan’s credit that he documented another sordid side to the war.
The first 500 pages of the book cover the period prior to the American buildup commencing in ‘65. But Sheehan saw much thereafter, including being present at the first major US-NVA battle in the Ia Drang valley. The Vann – Elsberg relationship was another fascinating aspect the book brought to light. Sheehan also details the demoralization and deterioration of the Army after several years of the madness of this war, which was one of the reasons why the USA eventually decided to end the war. Another favorite passage is on page 690, concerning My Lai, and it is Sheehan’s assessment that it was only unusual in the sense that it was up close and personal, but if this number of civilians had been killed at a distance, over time, it would have been SOP for the war.
Overall, it is a brilliant, poignant account of a very tragic episode in American history that should be read in every school, and by every policy maker. It deserves a 6-star rating.
1 Star The Media Spins Viet Nam
Neil Sheehan, was a writer for UPI,and then The New York Times, he was also a self described friend of John Paul Vann. He is of course as fair and unbiased in his treatment of Vann, and the war as all the other reporters. Sheehan did an impressive job with research and facts, especially in screening facts, drawing wrong conclusions, and spinning what was happening. Sheehan was caught-up in conventional wisdom of the war. He also delights in exploring Vann’s shortcomings, something everyones friends loves to do. I meet and talked to John Paul Vann in 1969 and 1970, and I doubt that Sheehan spent much time discussing his shortcomings and delusions with him. I also doubt this book would have been published if Vann had not been Killed, and unable to state his opinions. Instead his friend shows how deluded warped and wrong Vann really was, I am not sure he would agree with Sheehan’s opinions.
5 Stars long read
this book was a long read. The wrighting was on the wall. No one paid attention.
3 Stars A Methodological Nightmare
Neil Sheehan is a journalist. As such, any historical undertaking at which he throws himself should be approached with a hint of enthusiasm and a barrage of skepticism. The journalist can provide the prose and penmanship that the historian too often lacks. The journalist is oftentimes eye-witness to historical episodes and is thus in a position to pass along a unique perspective that can provide a rich historical understanding. However, the journalist is not trained in the historical methodologies and is thus prone to fatuous errors and crude generalisations that will likely frustrate the historian. Such is this case with the present work. Poor methodology in the form of metaphorical mysticism deals it a critical blow.
A Bright Shining Lie is a memoir, a biography and a political statement entwined into a single work. It follows the life of John Paul Vann, a soldier during the Vietnam War and an old friend of the author. Sheehan paints Vann as an archetypical American soldier, jingoistic and unwilling to admit defeat. Vann’s faith in the ability of the United States as a global parent, disciplining and caring for foreign nations as a mother or father shelters and provides for their child, is a testament to his belief in America’s ability to police the world. `He saw the United States as a stern yet benevolent authority that enforced peace and brought prosperity to the peoples of the non-Communist nations, sharing the bounty of its enterprise and technology with those who had been denied a fruitful life by poverty and social injustice and bad government.’ To Vann, it was only natural that other nations grovel at the wonder-working power of the United States of America. To Sheehan, this faith in this vision of the United States had `come to personify the American endeavor in Vietnam.’ This analogy is the salient center of A Bright Shining Lie but also its most obtrusive historical shortcoming. Sheehan places far too much weight on the character flaws of Vann when condemning the Vietnam War and appears to believe that every err in Vann’s life must coincide with some flaw in the war or in the American foreign policy apparatus at large. The most glaring misstep occurs during the narrative of Vann’s funeral, when Sheehan writes, `They wondered if they were also burying with him this vision and this faith in an ever-innocent America.’ Sheehan has on a number of occasions repeated this sentiment that the death of John Paul Vann was, in some mystical way, analogous to the burial of an imperialistic U.S. foreign policy. The historical investigation from which this idea arose is unclear. But clear as crystal is the plain fact that the American empire was not buried with the passing of a pawn in the game. It was rampant in the form of military interventions in the immediate years prior to the publication of A Bright Shining Lie. Sheehan is not blind to the history of American imperial policy. He likely became absorbed by his undertaking and failed to properly analyse the limits of his method.
Sheehan makes known a number of the United States’ logistic, strategic and military blunders in Vietnam. In this effort he is decent. However, he once again commits a methodological gaffe. He chronicles in detail the delusions of Vann’s superior officers and argues that such delusion occurred at all levels of command, including the Presidency, but does not actually offer any evidence as to how such high level delusion occurred. He simply asks the reader to accept his analogy and be on his way, which brings the reader back to square one and the problems that abound in Sheehan’s method.
The analogy is an explanatory device. Its purpose is to further the understanding of an audience. The analogy does not in and of itself prove anything at all. It is a supplement to proof, not a replacement. Had Sheehan used his analogy appropriately and included evidence where fitting he could have avoided his methodological problems.
A Bright Shining Lie is a respectable endeavor when seen for what it literally is, a biography of John Paul Vann. If read as such, its thoroughness, its depth and its personal touch shine through the pages. However, if it is read as a political manifesto it becomes a dense swamp of details with little analysis and conclusions hidden within a tricky metaphorical vista. If it is viewed as a history the majority of it may simply be tossed onto a pile of gasoline and matches.
Brandon Harnish
April 1, 2008
4 Stars “We had also, to all the visitors who came over, been one of the bright shining lies.”
~A Bright Shining Lie: John Paul Vann and America in Vietnam~ is an avid account of the Vietnam War centers on U.S. Army officer Lt. Col. John Paul Vann, whose life story illuminates failures and disillusionment of the United States with its intervention in Indochina which escalated incrementally in the decades between the 1950s and the 1970s, under the guise of a police action.
Vann was of humble origins. A smalltown Virginia boy born in the slums of Norfolk, Virginia, and raised in Roanoke, VA. He joined the U.S. Army after reaching adulthood, and became decorated Korean War veteran, following his heroism at the battle of Inchon. He eventually earned his wings, and flew Boeing B-29 bombers to bases across the Pacific. Following the post-WWII restructuring of the War Department, the U.S. Army Air Corps was spun off as the U.S. Air Force, and Vann faced an option of choosing which service branch he would belong to; but Vann stayed in the Army.
John Paul Vann became an American adviser to the South Vietnamese in the early 1960s. He fought right in the trenches with the South Vietnamese, and slept in their barracks. During the Tet Offensive, he single-handedly piloted a helicopter to repel an attack, and saved American lines from being overrun.
Vann was an ardent critic of how the war was fought, both on the part of the Saigon regime, which he viewed as corrupt and incompetent, and, as time went by, increasingly, on the part of the U.S. military. John Adams had said of the 1776 Revolution: “[It] was effected before the War commenced. The Revolution was in the minds and hearts of the people…. This radical change in the principles, opinions, sentiments, and affections of the people, was the real American Revolution.” That phraseology “hearts and minds” was used by the British during the Malaysian Emergency from 1948 to 1960, as the British employed conciliatory practices to keep the Malayans’ trust and reduce a tendency to side with the Chinese communists. John Paul Vann advocate a programme for winning the “hearts and minds” of the Vietnamese people. Vann protested that armchair generals and strategists in Washington, D.C., did not have an accurate picture of Vietnam, and they wrongly reduced the struggle to simply one of military might. For Vann, propaganda and lies concealed the failures and harsh realities of American policy in Vietnam, and how it reinforced the bad policies of the `free government’ in South Vietnam. “If it were not for the fact that Vietnam is but a pawn in the larger East-West confrontation,” remarked Vann, “and that our presence here is essential to deny the resources of this area to Communist China, then it would be damned hard to justify our support of the existing government.” Vann was realistic about the corruption that afflicted the Republic of Vietnam, and it undermined the effort to maintain a stable anti-communist political front.
Vann was privately briefing the American press, when the brass refused to heed his exhortation, and make sensible changes. Vann was a complex figure in his own right: he truly believed that it was possible to win the Vietnamese conflict against the communists.
In particular, Vann was very critical of the U.S. military command under William Westmoreland. Westmoreland succinctly summed up the failure of the U.S. policy in the 1970s, when he declared the objective was to “rack up the body count.” It became a futile war of attrition against a guerrilla army that was swelling astronomically in sympathizers by the early 1970s. In the realm of psy-ops, the U.S. government suffered an inability to recognize they were facing a popular guerrilla movement while simultaneously backing a corrupt regime. In the mid-1950s, the northern Roman Catholics were compelled to flee to the South, and were assisted by the U.S. Seventh Fleet. This Roman Catholic ruling class constituted the intelligentsia that dominated RVN politics, but they were always viewed with suspicion by the southern populace. Vann argued persuasively that many of the tactics employed by the U.S. and their RVN allies, such as strategic relocation of peasants, further alienated the Vietnamese people. Vann’s tough assessment of Washington politicians was realistic and resonated with civilian advisors and low-level military brass on the ground in Vietnam. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, (who served from 1961 to 1968) was an absolute jackass, and ill-qualified for the job. One only has to read his book In Retrospect to see how supercilious he was, and how endowed he was at making excuses for his own ineptness. The policies of MacNamara and his so called `Whiz Kids’ were the policies Vann so ardently opposed. He compelled a untimely across-the-board adoption of the untested M16 rifle and this was catastrophic when those rifles malfunctioned in combat.
By the time of his death in Vietnam in June 1972 in a helicopter crash, Vann had challenged the highest military brass in Washington to reevaluate their Vietnam policy. He had earned the admiration and confidence of journalists whose reporting of the war began a general public inquiry of how and why the conflict was being fought. Had Pentagon policymakers heeded Vann’s prescient warnings in the early 1970s, and actually made a concerted effort to implement his policy recommendations could, perhaps history would have boded better for the survival of the RVN. It wouldn’t be untenable to say that anti-communist victory would have been impossible. But such policy changes would have required diplomatic strong-arm tactics compelling serious political and social reforms in the backward and repressive Republic of Vietnam (RVN).
The author Niel Sheehan was a UPI correspondent in Southeast Asia during the time of the Vietnam war, and chronicled much of Vann’s life into a book posthumous. He isn’t immune from criticism of Vann, and the book is not entirely hagiographic, as he points out frequent accusations and evidences of Vann’s marital infidelity. Sheehan is the master storyteller, and this is arguably one of the best written biographical accounts of the late Vietnamese conflict because it is so realistic about its achievements and failures.
This book is indispensable to coming to terms with the tragedy of the Vietnam conflict, and understanding it. Hindsight is 20/20.
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