Britain, Southeast Asia and the Onset of the Cold War, 1945-1950

BRITAIN, SOUTHEAST ASIA AND THE ONSET OF THE COLD WAR, 1945-1950 This detailed and original study throws new light on the evolution of British policy in Southeast Asia in the turbulent post-war period. Through extensive archival research and insightful analysis of the British mind-set and official policy, Tarling demonstrates that Southeast Asia was perceived as a region consisting of mutually co-operating new states, rather than a fragmented mass. The book covers the immediate postwar period until the Colombo Plan and the outbreak of hostilities in Korea. A companion volume to Tarling's Britain,

Southeast Asia and the Onset of the Pacific War, it finds parallels

between Britain's approach to the threat of Japan and its approach to the threat of communism. It also shows that the British sought to shape US involvement, in part by involving other Commonwealth countries, especially India. This is a major contribution to the diplomatic and political history of Southeast Asia.

Nicholas Tarling was Professor of History at the University of Auckland from 1968 to 1997 and has since been a fellow of the New Zealand Asia Institute, Visiting Professor at Universiti Brunei Darussalam and Honorary Professor at the University

of Hull. He is editor of the Cambridge History of Southeast Asia,

volumes 1 and 2, and author of the companion volume to this one, Britain, Southeast Asia and the Onset of the Pacific War (1996) and Nations and States in Southeast Asia (1998), both

published by Cambridge University Press.

For Margaret Lamb

BRITAIN, SOUTHEAST ASIA AND THE ONSET OF THE COLD WAR, 1945-1950 NICHOLAS TARLING

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 2RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521632614 © Nicholas Tarling 1998 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 1998 This digitally printed first paperback version 2006 A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data Tarling, Nicholas. Britain, Southeast Asia and the onset of the Cold War, 1945-1950/ Nicholas Tarling. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index. ISBN 0-521-63261-7 (hardbound: alk. paper). 1. Asia, Southeastern — Foreign relations — Great Britain. 2. Great Britain — Foreign relations — Asia, Southeastern. 3. Cold War. 4. World politics, 1945- . 5. Asia, Southeastern - History - 1945- . 6. Great Britain - History - George VI, 1936-1952. I. Title. DS525.9.G7T369 1998 327.41059-dc21 98-14096 ISBN-13 978-0-521-63261-4 hardback ISBN-10 0-521-63261-7 hardback ISBN-13 978-0-521-03336-7 paperback ISBN-10 0-521-03336-5 paperback

Contents

Preface

vii

List of abbreviations

ix

Maps

xi

1 Wartime Plans for post-war Southeast Asia, 1942-1945 Britain's place in the world The Burma White Paper of 17 May 1945 The Malayan Union concept The Borneo take-over proposal The restoration of relations with Siam The return of the French to Indo-China Cooperation with the Dutch The liberation of the Philippines The coordination of British policy

1 1 9 17 21 22 37 40 43 45

2 Southeast Asia after the Japanese Surrender, 1945-1946 The Third Force concept The Special Commissioner Dorman-Smith and the AFPFL General Gracey and the Viet Minh Troops and talks in Indonesia Malay opposition The Anglo-Siamese Treaty Destruction and reconstruction in the Philippines

51 51 54 62 77 87 105 108 128

3 The Re-establishment of Colonial Regimes in Southeast Asia, 1946 Regionalism and nationalism Lord Killearn's mission

131 131 133

vi

CONTENTS The strikes in Burma The clash in Tonkin The Linggadjati agreement The Anglo-Malay negotiations The anti-cession movement in Sarawak Negotiating a treaty with the Philippines Thai rice

134 151 160 173 175 177 180

4

Concession and Conflict, 1947 The crises of 1947 The Commissioner-General The independence of Burma The Federation of Malaya The first Dutch 'police action' Moutet and Bollaert The return of Pibun The Philippines and North Borneo

185 185 188 194 209 211 236 245 254

5

The Impact of Communism, 1948 Western Union Imperialism and communism The advance of Chinese communism Instability in Burma The second Dutch 'police action' The recognition of Pibun The Baie d'Along accords The Sulu heirs The Malayan Emergency

263 263 267 270 272 280 295 301 309 309

6

Commonwealth and Colombo, 1949-1950 India and the United States Aid for Burma The Round Table agreement on Indonesia The recognition of the Bao Dai regime in Vietnam Thai cooperation Optimism in Malaya and Borneo The Philippines and the Baguio initiative Concluding remarks

315 315 342 357 373 397 402 405 410

Personalia Notes Bibliography Index

413 415 471 479

Preface

This book gives an account of Britain's policy towards Southeast Asia in the years 1945-50. Aspects of this topic have been dealt with by other writers, but there are gaps. The present book aims to fill some of these, but its main novelty is its overall approach, placing the policy towards the various countries in the region both in juxtaposition with one another and in the larger international context. A great deal has been written on Malaya and Borneo, and the book does not aim to repeat that. It is more concerned with Burma before and after 1948 and with Britain's post-war relations with Siam. I recognise that much has also been written on the international aspects of the Indonesian revolution, but this book carries the account of Britain's policy beyond the Linggadjati agreement of November 1946. Britain's dealing with French Indo-China is also taken beyond the departure of Gracey earlier that year. Though its focus is on British policy, the book throws light on that of the Dutch and of the French, and in particular on the impact on it of metropolitan politics. It also throws light, of course, on the nationalists, and in particular their relative ability to exploit the international situation in pursuit of their goals. The book is divided into six chapters. The chronological divisions employed correspond to major changes within and outside the region. Each chapter has an introduction on the changes and then deals with the several countries concerned, bringing out the general themes and interrelationships. It does not deal in any detail with Laos and Cambodia, and it relies largely on other authorities, such as Albert Lau, in its handling of Malaya/Singapore. The thrust and approach differ from those of recent books by Tilman Remme and Rolf Tanner. The book is necessarily longer, too. In some

viii

PREFACE

sense it is an analogue of Britain, Southeast Asia and the Onset of the Pacific

War (Cambridge University Press, 1996). There are indeed some parallels between Britain's approach to the threat of Japan and its approach to the threat of communism which it is an objective of the present volume to bring out. I acknowledge the help of Dr Brook Barrington and of Mrs Elaine Hull, my secretary over many years. I am grateful, too, to the editors of Modern Asian Studies, the Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, the Journal of Comparative and Colonial Politics, the Journal of the Siam Society and the

South East Asia Review for publishing earlier versions of some of the material, and to the New Zealand Asia Institute at the University of Auckland for its support. NICHOLAS TARLING

Vlll

Abbreviations

ABTUC AFNEI AFO AFPFL AMCJA BCP BDA BIS BNA CCAO CCP CCS CFB CIGS COS CRO CTRC ECAFE ERP FMS GOC IEFC INA KMT MCP MCS MDU MNP

All Burma Trades Union Congress Allied Forces NEI Anti-Fascist Organisation (later AFPFL) Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League All-Malayan Council of Joint Action Burma Communist Party Burma Defence Army British Information Services Burma National Army (Tatmadaw) Chief Civil Affairs Officer Chinese Communist Party Combined Chiefs of Staff Combined Food Board Chief of the Imperial General Staff Chiefs of Staff Commonwealth Relations Office Combined Thai Rice Commission Economic Commission for Asia and the Far East European Recovery Program Federated Malay States Good Offices Committee International Emergency Food Council Indian National Army Kuomintang Malayan Communist Party Malayan Civil Service Malayan Democratic Union Malay Nationalist Party

x MPAJA MPU MRP NEI OEEC ORC OSS PBF PMCJA PUSC PUTERA PVO, (PYA) RTC SAC SACSEA SEAC SOE SS UMNO UMS UNRAA USI

ABBREVIATIONS Malayan People's Anti-Japanese Army Malayan Planning Unit (War Office) Mouvement republicain populaire Netherlands East Indies Organisation for European Economic Cooperation Overseas Reconstruction Committee Office of Strategic Services Patriotic Burmese Forces Pan-Malayan Council for Joint Action Permanent Under-Secretary's Committee Pusat Tenaga Ra'ayat People's Volunteer Organization (Burma), (Pyithu Yebaw Ahphwe) Round Table Conference Supreme Allied Commander Supreme Allied Commander, South-East Asia South-East Asia Command Special Operations Executive Straits Settlements United Malays National Organisation Unfederated Malay States United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration United States of Indonesia

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CHAPTER 1

Wartime Plans for Post-war Southeast Asia, 1942-1945

Britain's place in the world

It was only in the Second World War that the term 'Southeast Asia' came to be commonly applied to the region to which it now applies. The region is so diverse that no one name is likely to be apt. Earlier names for it had indeed been more inexact and partial than the geographic phrase of the Allied Command, and the peoples of the area would not have seen themselves as Southeast Asian, even to the extent that they do so now. Yet if the region was difficult to describe, it had shared a common experience: that of domination by Western powers through the nineteenth and the earlier decades of the twentieth centuries. The relationships of the various states and territories with those powers were themselves diverse, but an imperial framework stretched over the whole region. That framework had been created during the heyday of British power, and it reflected the nature of British interests in Southeast Asia. Though Britain itself rarely, if ever, seemed to make policy for the whole region, and though it conducted its policy through several different agencies, it tended to see the area as a whole. That was especially the case when the structure seemed to be threatened from outside. To treat the region as a whole, however, was difficult, since British policy itself had encouraged its political fragmentation. In the nineteenth century, Southeast Asia had been of intermediate rather than prime importance to the British: intermediate in two senses. First, it lay between India and China. Second, India and China had priority over it in British policy in Asia, and Europe had priority over Asia in British policy. Burma was important to the British above all because of its proximity to British India; Singapore, Malaya, and North-western

2

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

Borneo in part because of their contiguity to the route to China. European considerations argued for accepting Dutch rule in the Indies, Spanish rule in the Philippines, French rule in Indo-China. Siam survived partly as a buffer between empires. The displacement of Spain did not undermine the pattern thus established. It recruited the United States to the colonial framework. The framework was still in place in 1939, though Britain's power in the world had evidently diminished. Nationalist movements within the territories had enjoyed varying degrees of success, but none of the powers was in danger of being overthrown from within. The threat was from Japan. That power had earlier accommodated itself to the status quo, but after 1931 its growing isolation and extremism made it more menacing. The outbreak of war in Europe in September 1939 intensified the fear that it would descend upon Southeast Asia, more particularly on the Indies, a source of oil. Involved in Europe, the European powers would be able to do little to resist it. Nor had they colonial armies to pit against it. If on the one hand nationalism had not overthrown the colonial regimes, they could not on the other hand risk recruiting armies from the putative nations. Southeast Asia had to be defended from the outside, if at all. Doing this was made more difficult, not only by Britain's weakness but by the fragmentation of the region. Because of the war in Europe the colonial powers were soon in very different positions in Southeast Asia. The Dutch government fled to London when the Germans invaded the Netherlands; but Indo-China followed the Vichy regime. The British engaged in an extensive diplomacy, designed at once to hold off the Japanese and to sustain those elements in each country most likely to oppose their penetration or invasion. In both endeavours, the attitude of the Americans was of prime importance. Their interests and those of the British substantially coincided, but their policies rarely did. The Japanese invaded Southeast Asia both because of the success of this British policy and because of its failure: it helped to provoke them but it could not stop them; it might limit their penetration but it could not prevent their invasion. The collapse of Singapore, though foreseen by some, was a traumatic event, not only for its inhabitants and its defenders, but for the empire as a whole. 'A crushing defeat, perhaps one of the most severe we have known, was inflicted on British arms', wrote H.C. Walsh, the consul-general in Batavia. The capture of the Netherlands East Indies by Japan was no less spectacular. An Asiatic people has scored these successes over a European first-class power, and her allies, and the repercussions are unpredictable, even among those Eastern peoples who are well disposed to the

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European. The Europeanised 'Far East' has gone, and the organisation of European activities there in the future will have to be rebuilt on entirely different foundations from those prevailing before 1939.*

The disaster encouraged a new view of empire, and a re-appraisal of the policies Britain had adopted towards nationalism in its territories in Southeast Asia. At the same time the British sought to give a new meaning to their regional approach, and thus to influence other colonial powers, which, like the British, had every intention of returning to the territories from which they had been driven by the invader when the invader had been defeated. Britain's wartime planning was influenced by an analysis of the reasons for its collapse in Southeast Asia in 1941-42. It was also affected by relationships with its allies in the war. A third consideration was information about the changes within occupied Southeast Asia, but it was scanty. That undermined the chances of success. So did the fact that the planning was predicated on a victorious re-conquest or liberation of the region. In the event, following the dropping of the atomic bombs, the Japanese surrendered before that process was complete. The British sought with some success to adjust their plans. They had less success in persuading the French and the Dutch to pursue what they regarded as realistic policies towards the nationalists, and so their regional approach was difficult to pursue. It was in this context that they were in 1948-49 to perceive a new threat from the outside, that of the Chinese communists. Their response to that bore some striking similarities to their response to the Japanese threat in 1939-41. They sought to stiffen the local resistance to communist penetration and to provide against the risk of outright invasion. In both ventures they recognised the need for US support. That, again, they finally secured, but they largely lost the initiative in policy-making. These changes took place in a larger context, both during the war and after it. Southeast Asia had been the focus of the outbreak of the Pacific war in 1941. In the Second World War that thus developed, the Asian theatre was secondary to the European one. Post-war, too, the main focus was on Europe, though with the emergence of Communist China the balance shifted. But if Southeast Asia after 1945 was no longer a fulcrum of contention among the major states, it was deeply affected by their rivalry. The policies major powers pursued there were indeed related to their policies elsewhere. At times priorities conflicted, at times they coincided. But they are better understood in the context of a wider world, and they in turn throw some light upon its changing nature. The war witnessed the continuance of the shifts in the distribution of power among states that had helped to cause it. One of those shifts was,

4

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

of course, the relative decline of Britain's power. That had long encouraged the aspiration of the Germans to replace Britain as the leading European power, and, as before the First World War, so before the second, they had hoped somehow to effect this without an extended conflict with the British. For other states had grown in power and they had aspirations, too. Ever since it had become a European power, Russia had shown a capacity decisively to intervene in European affairs, broken only by periods of crisis in some sense prompted by difficulties in mobilising its resources. The emergence of US power portended an even greater shift in the distribution of power. It had long been shielded by its relative isolation and by the predominance of the British navy in the Atlantic. Its industrialisation gave it a vast potential, realising which would mean that world politics would no longer be dominated by European states as had been the case for four centuries. Germany aspired to effect its dominance in Europe partly because of the emergence of Russia and the US, but the attempt was likely to provoke them. Not only would the British have to accept the implications of their decline, the emergent powers would also have to accept German hegemony over Europe. The implications for the Russians were plain enough. The implications for the US, and indeed for all the countries in the Americas it saw as covered by the Monroe doctrine, were less clear. But the collapse of France in 1940 and the threat to Britain quickly prompted an emphasis on hemispheric defence. The interests of these powers show why Europe was the focus of their rivalry: it was Europe that was the focus of their aspirations, and, still more significant, of their security. The Pacific war was prompted by the mobilisation of US power in 1940. The Japanese felt that their autonomy would be destroyed and looked to Southeast Asia as a means of regional insurance. The US saw Southeast Asia as a resource for the British in their European struggle. The Pacific war that ensued was fought at the same time as the European struggle but settled after it was over. In the course of the struggle, both Germany and Japan were defeated, though their potential again to become significant powers was not destroyed. Indeed their revival was to be aided by the rivalry of the victors. The position of the victors relative to one another also changed during the war which speeded up processes that were already at work. Britain's relative decline was expedited: by 1943 it was bankrupt. 'Do you want me to beg, like Fala?' Churchill compared himself to Roosevelt's dog at Quebec in October 1944.2 By contrast the war was prompting both the US and the USSR to mobilise their resources and become the world's super-powers. Their emergent rivalry dominated the post-war world. Other powers worked out their roles accordingly. The roles the defeated Germany and

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Japan should shape for themselves were perhaps clearer than the role the British had to shape. They were victorious, but only in the sense that they were on the winning side. It is often argued that their policies took too little account of their weakness. In particular it is suggested that they sought still to play the role of a great power when they were one no longer, and devoted to that role resources that would have better applied to the economic restructuring that their defeated rivals engaged upon. Engaging in 'global overstretch', as well as building a 'New Jerusalem', 'served to starve investment in modernising British industry and infrastructure, . . . so urgently needed'. So Correlli Barnett has argued.3 That accusation may be the result of hindsight, but it may also point to a truth about the nature of British policy-making. Its fundamental international aim had been to ensure a measure of security and stability in the world, so that Britain might pursue an essentially commercial and financial role. Post-war it may be argued that Britain's foreign policy still had the same objectives. Given, however, the chaos at the end of the war and the uncertainty about the activities of the super-powers, that foreign policy had to be active. It clearly over-extended the resources of the British, but it is less clear that there was an alternative to such a policy if the basic objective remained the same. Few seemed to question that. There lay the essential assumption: Britain's commercial, industrial and financial leaders could meet the competition if stability and security were provided. '[T]his country possesses all the skill and resources required to recover a dominating place in the economic world', a Foreign Office memorandum declared in March 1945: its huge debt would be temporary.4 The difficulty, as D. C. Watt has put it, was that withdrawing from overseas commitments was 'neither easy nor obviously in Britain's interests. These demanded political stability as a condition of trade and investment.'5 There was, of course, another context for defining Britain's place in the world, an imperial one. That had always been secondary, but its rhetoric had a certain power, since it tended to associate empire and greatness, even though greatness in fact had other sources. During the war, images of empire were evoked, and no doubt helped to shape a policy for the post-war period that was unduly ambitious. Post-war it was perhaps more difficult to scale back such ambitions because a Labour government did not wish to be accused of scuttle, though it had an easier task than the governments of the other colonial powers, France and the Netherlands, less politically secure and, possessing less to give up, more likely to be blamed for so doing. If it has been argued that Britain was wrong to put its aspiration to be a great power over the need for economic restructuring, it has also been argued that it chose the wrong political options. That again may be

6

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

hindsight. As before and in the war, so also post-war, the British had to consider their relationships with Europe, with the US, and with the Commonwealth and empire, and it is sometimes suggested, given the later relationship with the EC, that the European one should all along have had first priority. In a sense, indeed, it did, as it always had done. What was at issue was the nature of that relationship, and its connexion with the other two relationships. The most significant of the three, the British had recognised - sometimes unwillingly before the war, desperately during the war, resignedly after the war - was the relationship with the US. Its support was fundamental, and nothing must be done to foreclose it, either by pursuing policies that clearly alienated it, or by attempting to involve it in policies with which it could not sympathise. At the same time, Britain did not wish to become entirely dependent on the US. If it had influence as a result of other relationships, it would indeed be a more effective partner in the American relationship. It had to have US support, but it wanted some leverage. At the end of the war, there was some tendency to exaggerate the role Britain might play, building up its relationships with Europe and with the empire, but it was never intended to displace the relationship with the US. True, Sir Orme Sargent came near to saying so in his famous Foreign Office stock-taking memorandum of July 1945, advocating ties with France and the other western European countries as 'collaborators' with the British empire. Even he, however, saw this as a means 'to compel our two big partners to treat us as an equal', and thought that eventually the US might enter Europe wholeheartedly on the side of Britain. Britain's trump card, added Nevile Butler of the North American Department, was its strength relative to any other possible American ally.6 What was possible in Europe, however, was at first unclear. With Germany defeated, Russia had the potential to dominate, and there was growing distrust of its policy in the later months of the war and the early months of peace. But, even apart from the difficulty of reaching agreement with the French, it was thought unwise to risk provoking Russia by pursuing a leadership role on the Continent.7 The attitude of the US added to Britain's hesitation. Avoiding US isolation was essential. Too inactive a policy might seem improvident. Too bold a policy might alienate it by undermining its hopes for continued cooperation with the Russians. In Southeast Asia, the aim must be to restore stability. That, again, could not be based merely on regaining the status quo, albeit Japan was defeated. But it could perhaps be based on a revised understanding between the Europeans and the Asian peoples that would be satisfactory to the Americans and sufficient to avert the effective intervention of the

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Russians, at this time in any case more concerned with the prospects for communism in Europe. The reluctance to challenge the Soviet Union was to be shown in the reaction to Churchill's 'Iron Curtain' speech, given at Fulton in the US President's home state on 5 March 1946. But Stalin, though concerned to ensure Russia's security, also felt strong enough in 1945-46 to take some risks: he sought reparations from all of Germany, made forays into Iran and Turkey, and sought a base in Libya. European communist parties were doing well, and the US had indicated it would withdraw its troops from Europe within two years. He miscalculated. The gains he made were small compared with the apprehensions they aroused. They were felt particularly by Britain, which had a long history of friction with Russia and was concerned at threats to the Middle East, a source of oil, but they were increasingly shared by the Americans. At this point, the British encouraged rather than moderated the US. Their aim was, however, still to channel its vast power, not to lose all initiative. That became a still more difficult course to pursue in 1947. Britain's economy had failed to revive, and it could not meet the conditions on which it had secured a loan from the US when lend-lease was ended in 1945. That again prompted it to activate the US politically and economically. When early in the year Britain announced its withdrawal from Greece and Turkey, the US responded, even more expansively than expected, with the Truman doctrine. Britain's own economic weakness, and that of the rest of Europe, prompted the announcement in June of Marshall Aid. The British had made a treaty with France and had been moving towards a similar treaty with Belgium. Now they sought to shape the new US initiative, and the negative reaction of the Soviet Union helped to make it a recovery programme for western Europe, rather than for all Europe. The pursuit of western European union early in 1948 was consistent with Britain's earlier policy, though it was now placed in a new context. Britain would help to shape US policy towards Europe by its initiatives in Europe. The initiatives, however, increasingly lay with the super-powers. In February communists seized power in Czechoslovakia; in June the Berlin airlift began. Early in 1949 the British again re-formulated their policy. The concept that they could be a third more or less super-power was abandoned. What they now believed they could enjoy was a 'special relationship' with the US. Disappointed of its hopes in Europe, the Soviet Union looked, as Lenin once had, outside Europe and created the Cominform in October 1947. The following year, moreover, it became clear that the Communist Party in China was headed for total victory. These events added to Britain's concern over Southeast Asia. Neither the French nor the Dutch

8

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

had come to terms with nationalism: indeed they were at war with it. That, it was thought, could only enhance the opportunities for the communists, backed internationally as they might now increasingly be. The Cold War in Europe made it more urgent to establish Southeast Asia as a zone of stability, though the methods would vary from country to country. The main thrust ought still to be a new form of East-West relationship. For, while it was important in Southeast Asia as elsewhere to increase the involvement of the Americans, they should not be the sole maker of Western policy. Hitherto their role in Southeast Asia had been limited, outside the Philippines, their former territory, and Thailand, always independent, with which they had developed a special relationship in the war. Their 'failure' in China made them reluctant to extend their role. The British sought their involvement - in Indonesia and in Indo-China - but also sought to shape it. Malaya had a special importance for Britain, and yet, from the start of what became known as the Emergency in June 1948, it was specially threatened. There, as elsewhere, the British had to reconcile their concern to promote political development and their need to sustain the dollar balances of the sterling area. Some, including Ernest Bevin and Stafford Cripps, looked to Africa as well. Development there might not only consolidate the connexion with the French but earn dollars. The British failed to recognise that the economic prospects in the longer term were not what they seemed to be in the shorter term. It was trade with the industrial countries that was to be the avenue to prosperity, not trade with the commodity producers. The Commonwealth was intended to have a strategic as well as an economic role. The failure to establish a united India in 1946-7 diminished its value in containing Russia. Yet India's independence had its positive side. Nehru pursued a 'neutralist' policy in the Cold War that many found disappointing, even tiresome. But India might still serve as a political example in Southeast Asia and demonstrate that there were alternatives to communism. While it might itself be distrusted in Southeast Asia, India could, moreover, take the lead, for example, in supporting Burma when independence there was followed by civil war and the possibility of collapse. The British kept India in the Commonwealth at the cost of re-shaping that organisation in 1948-9. The Commonwealth in fact gave them the opportunity to take the initiative in Southeast Asia and both to encourage and shape US involvement. Other Commonwealth countries also involved included Ceylon, New Zealand and Australia. The last had demonstrated its concern with Southeast Asia, partly for economic reasons, above all for security reasons, ever since the fall of Singapore in 1942. For the British that presented another diplomatic challenge. Some of the initiatives were

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9

again tiresome and the British often lost patience with H. V. Evatt, the Minister for External Affairs, and John Burton, permanent head of the Department, over Indonesia. But in essence Australia's interest was welcome. It had to be put to good use. The Burma White Paper of 17 May 1945

Britain's wartime planning, and the modifications Britain made in attempting to implement it post-war, had to take account of the emergence of the super-powers. Not only that, it had to reckon with other allies, the other colonial powers of Southeast Asia, France and the Netherlands, and their aspirations. It had to take account of the peoples the colonial powers ruled, though little was known or understood of them during the war. It had to take account of Thailand, which had declared war on the Allies. It also had to consider its Commonwealth partners, the dominions, among which Australia was particularly interested in the future of Southeast Asia. It had also to consider India, the core of the empire in Asia, scene of collaboration and opposition, source of soldiers, source of bitter criticism, destined for a new status and, Congress hoped, for independence. Though in the war, and in the planning for the post-war period, Britain increasingly saw Southeast Asia as a whole, there was no structured planning for the area overall. Planning was carried on in various offices and cohesion brought about by the commonality of its concepts, as well as by the establishment of interdepartmental committees and representation and by Cabinet guidance. The war-time planning for Britain's own possessions and protectorates was carried out in the Burma Office, the Colonial Office, and the War Office. Planning for the future of Britain's relations with Thailand and, insofar as there was any, for Britain's relations with other colonial territories, was more the task of the Foreign Office, influenced again by the War Office and the Cabinet. The planning for Burma, Malaya and British Borneo was the most detailed, and an account of it makes Britain's approach to Southeast Asia clearer. In the case of Burma, as elsewhere, planning for the return of the British started very soon after their expulsion. No consideration was given to not returning at all. So early a start, moreover, made it likely that the planning, while taking account of what had happened just before the war, would take too little account of what happened in the war: if generals fight the last war, planners plan the last peace. In these ways, Burma was not distinctive. What was distinctive was the method. For prewar Burma had been so advanced constitutionally that it was seen as appropriate for the government, unlike a colonial government, to go

10

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

into exile. The Governor, based at Simla, was a lively source of ideas and aspirations. The interchanges between the Governor, Sir Reginald Dorman-Smith, the Burma Office, the military leaders, and the Cabinet demonstrate some of the criteria of wartime planning for post-war Southeast Asia. The government of Burma had been separated from that of India in 1935. The legislation had also established a parliamentary system, though the Governor continued to hold responsibility for the scheduled areas, where most of the minorities, though not all the Karens, lived. The new system gave the Burmese Cabinet far more power than the previous dyarchy, though it stopped short of dominion status. For that the British would set no definite time-frame. Their reluctance was not diminished by their critical view of Burmese politics. 'The war in Burma has swept away our old administration', one of the Governor's counsellors, Raibeart MacDougall, wrote in Simla in June 1942. 'When we return, there will be another break in continuity, and this will provide us with an opportunity such as we have never had before, and probably shall never have again, to reform and reintegrate our whole system.'8 Dorman-Smith wished to work towards a programme of reconstruction, too; but he also wished to continue to work towards self-government. He tried to reconcile these two objectives by arguing for a period of direct rule of a specified duration. The British government would have to assume direct administration of Burma in order to provide for its defence and its reconstruction, but a time limit, say five years, should be laid down: 'our avowed intention should be, subject to any necessary safeguards at the end of such period, to restore Burma to the degree of self-government which she possessed before and set her on the road to full self-government.'9 The Cabinet agreed on the need for case studies. But it did not accept the overall concept that coupled a fixed period of direct rule and substantial funding of reconstruction.10 The Governor's determination, coupled with Japan's promise of independence for Burma in 1943, prompted reconsideration. At the Cabinet meeting on 14 April, however, the Prime Minister, Churchill, saw 'no reason to add anything to the declarations . . . already . . . made' on the eventual policy of self-government. On finance, the Chancellor said he was unwilling 'to say anything which might imply that Burma was to be given a preferential position'. 'We could be out-bidden by the Japanese on the programme outlined, while any public statement at this stage as to certain items on the programme (e.g. the fixing of a limit of seven years for the interim period of direct administration by His Majesty's Government through the Governor) might well give us the worst of both worlds.' The Cabinet thus concluded that it was premature to decide on a detailed policy, and that it should add no new promises of

THE BURMA WHITE PAPER

11

financial help.11 Yet it was the Governor's own ambition to do a good job 'if only to show the world that we have not lost our old cunning or that we have acquired a new and a better cunning'.12 He continued to solicit support during 1943, speaking to British firms, to Treasury officials, to Conservative MPs, to Mountbatten, appointed Supreme Allied Commander to the new South East Asia Command in August. Late in October Dorman-Smith prepared a minute addressed to the Secretary of State, Leopold Amery, which might go on to the Cabinet. 'Both China and America are intensely interested and I need hardly stress the fact that the honesty of our intentions is not accepted in all quarters. Indeed our hesitancy to make a definite pronouncement is contrasted - to our disadvantage - with the forthright policies in the East already announced by America and the Netherlands . . .'13 The paper was forwarded to the Prime Minister on 4 November 1943. The Governor had a lunch engagement with him next day.14 At the luncheon, it is said, the Prime Minister 'had on his intimidating expression. "You're the man, I hear," he rallied him, "who wants to give away the Empire."' Dorman-Smith denied this, but suggested that Mountbatten's operations might be assisted by a declaration. If British policy were unacceptable, the Burmese might oppose him. 'By proclaiming, however, that we came to rescue them and, after rehabilitating their country, would within a stated period put it under their rule, we should secure their active co-operation and bind them to us by such terms of affection that they would never want to leave the Empire.' But, as Maurice Collis says, 'Churchill would neither agree to make a statement nor say what statement he might eventually make'.15 'There is no need for haste', he had minuted. 'Burmah is not yet in our control.'16 The Burma Office suggested a different approach. The British government should commit itself to grant self-government when the conditions for it had been fulfilled. Burma must 'work her passage'.17 A Cabinet committee might examine the idea.18 But if the period of direct rule were undefined, and the amount of reconstruction funding 'in the air', the Governor asked, 'what vestige of an excuse' was there for not restoring the constitution of 1937, which had not been suspended during the invasion itself? On the return of the civil administration to Burma, the Philippines might have self-government; the Dutch might have 'initiated a liberal policy' in the Indies; India might be a dominion; China would be freed from the Japanese; Thailand would remain free. 'Burma may well ask . . . why she is being singled out for different treatment.' False moves could have 'unfortunate repercussions' outside Burma, too: 'our handling of the Burma problem will be regarded in many quarters as a test case of our sincerity and ability to deal with postwar Asiatic questions . . .'19

12

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

No doubt a self-governing Burma would not forthwith emerge as 'an ideally governed state'. But Dorman-Smith did not think it would make 'a dead set at British and other commercial undertakings', provided that 'they set their own houses in order and are prepared to shape their policies to meet the reasonable aspirations of the people from whose country they derive their profits'. Nor did Dorman-Smith think Burma would take 'the earliest opportunity of contracting out of the British Empire. Sandwiched as she is between China and India, Burma knows well that her chance of survival without the support of a powerful patron would be slender . . .' Moreover, Britain would 'for many years' still be Burma's nearest neighbour, because it would control the scheduled areas. Their ultimate federation would require British effort and Burman goodwill: 'the existence of this British girdle round Burma with the avowed aims with which we shall administer it will be a potent influence in favour of maintaining the British connection.' The Governor thought it 'much more likely that our worst fears would be realised if Burma had to drag concession after concession out of an unwilling Great Britain than if we could have worked with a cooperative Burma for say seven years . . .'20 The Governor again looked to Mountbatten for support. At Kandy, the Supreme Allied Commander (SAC) protested that policy questions were not his concern, but 'waxed enthusiastic and launched into the realms of politics with gusto'. He seemed to agree with Dorman-Smith, although Sir Philip Joubert, his deputy, had said that Esler Dening, his Political Adviser from the Foreign Office, did not. He 'apparently wants to go much further than I and to announce that full self-government will be granted to Burma just as soon as we can negotiate a treaty with her . . . However the de jure and the de facto governors did agree . . .'21 In fact the Burma Office decided simply to suggest setting up a Cabinet committee. The decision on direct rule so far made was insufficient, Sir John Walton's draft minute ran. First, on its own that would appear to the Burmans as a retrograde step; second, it was necessary to be prepared to explain British intentions in the US; third, psychological warfare needed 'a positive basis'; fourth, reconstruction required an objective; fifth, SEAC wanted 'a further clarification of policy'. An announcement might be necessary in order to encourage the Burmese to cooperate with British forces and reconcile them to direct rule, and its policy basis ought to be decided in advance. Parliamentary interest suggested to Sir David Monteath that the paper should go to the Prime Minister 'without delay, even though the omens are not very favourable. If no more than the preliminary step has been taken it would enable a statement that the matter is receiving attention to be made in Parliament with truth . . .'22 The minute went in on 23 November.23

THE BURMA WHITE PAPER

13

Dorman-Smith had prompted the setting-up of a 'pressure-group', and it had come to life as parliament re-assembled. Its report, Blue Print for Burma, which echoed his ideas, was summarised in the Times on 15 November. The editorial the same day went further than the Blue Print. No procedure, 'however defensible on the score that Burma has suffered the ravages of war while India has escaped them, which would seem to place Burmese nationalism in a position inferior to that accorded to Indian nationalism has the remotest chance of obtaining the acquiescence, to say nothing of the collaboration of the Burmese people'. Nor would they be attracted by economic rehabilitation. 'It may well be that the Burmese, if offered the choice, would gladly opt for a standard of living lower than that which prevailed before the war rather than accept a foreign-controlled economy for the working of which they know themselves to be unfitted . . .' When parliament re-assembled, Somerset de Chair, who had chaired the group, moved to amend the address in reply, with the regret that the king's speech did not mention the government's plans 'for the administration of Burma after its liberation and for its future constitutional development'.24 'Hitherto I have been inclined to think it would be better to reconquer Burma before giving it away', Churchill commented. 'But I see that the policy which has brought us to the present miserable pass in India is still thriving in some quarters, and that we are being urged to take steps in miniature in Burma which will afterwards bring the destruction of our Indian Empire.' Some sort of Cabinet committee should be set up.25 In fact, on 4 December, the Cabinet accepted the Prime Minister's view that the matter should be considered by its India Committee.26 Dening expressed his disappointment with the debate on Burma in the House, when, as Amery himself told Dorman-Smith, he had succeeded, as ordered, in saying 'nothing whatever'.27 The impression in India and in Kandy, as Dening reported to the Foreign Office, was that we were once more hedging ... I would venture to make the suggestion that no statement is better than one which merely perpetuates suspicion if it does not sow fresh suspicion. I think it right to say that what we do in Burma is likely to be the acid test of our good intentions in the Far East. Our future policy in Burma, therefore, transcends the merely local aspect and becomes a matter of world importance, and of particular importance to the Foreign Office in the light of Anglo-American and Anglo-Chinese relations . . ,28 To the international aspect of the Burma situation, properly the concern of the Foreign Office, Dening again alluded early in February: 'with the presence not merely of Allied forces but also of Allied newspaper

14

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

correspondents, what we do in Burma or Malaya is likely to excite the liveliest reactions in America and China.'29 Two-and-a-half years had passed, but there was no plan for Burma. The Prime Minister's objection was the prime obstacle. But set against that was Dorman-Smith's obstinate adherence to what may be described as a different kind of imperialism though imperialism all the same. Churchill's attitude with respect to India - what we have we hold - was re-interpreted with respect to Burma - what we had we mean to hold. Though his views affected policy towards other countries in Southeast Asia - especially Thailand - he was perhaps particularly insistent over Burma, finally annexed when his father was Secretary of State. The Governor also wished to retain Burma in the empire. But he saw it more in terms of the voluntary association of a dominion. Neither took much account of Britain's economic capacity to sustain an imperial policy, though Churchill was aware of Britain's indebtedness to the US and the Treasury was quite unwilling to spend large sums on the reconstruction of Burma. Both recognised the need to win US support from a political point of view: it was necessary for victory and necessary to ensure the fruits of victory. The extent to which that should affect policy was a source of difference. Dening, it seems, wanted to go even further than Dor man-Smith. Over these issues departments differed, though their overall policy might be similar and personalities might stress the differences. The same was true in respect of other British territories. There, as well as in Burma, moreover, judgments were made about the attitude of the inhabitants, often based on pre-war experience and generally without much up-to-date evidence. The need for effective propaganda as the war of liberation got under way underlined the fact that policy could not remain secret. Again, therefore, the military had an input into planning. Mountbatten indeed had a taste for politics, as Dorman-Smith recognised. The gap between SACSEA and the civilian authorities was to be particularly sharp in Burma, since it was the only territory that in fact underwent re-conquest. The discussion about policy in Burma alluded at times to the nonBritish territories in Southeast Asia, to the allegedly liberal plans of the Dutch, to the timetable in the Philippines. The success of British policy substantially depended on the pursuit of similar policies elsewhere in the region. But, if it had proved difficult to settle on a realistic British policy in Burma, there was no attempt at coordination with other powers. The policy was more like Churchill's than Dorman-Smith's: they should return. There British obligations ended. But British responsibilities might not. Moreover, the war was to end unexpectedly soon and, for the most part, without the war of liberation that Burma underwent.

THE BURMA WHITE PAPER

15

The India Committee ruled out the notion of a fixed period of direct rule in Burma. Sir Stafford Cripps thought that any legislation to provide for gubernatorial rule would be 'misunderstood' and 'react unhappily on public opinion not only in Burma but in this country and generally'. Might it not be possible to use the emergency provisions set out in Section 139 of the 1935 constitution for a period?30 That increased the possibility that Burma would merely return to the old constitution, the Conservatives felt. Lord Listowel, the Postmaster-General, indeed favoured an election under it.31 He was 'uneasy lest we might not be giving sufficient weight to Burmese national sentiment, which he thought likely to be very strong after the war'.32 The committee decided to rely on Section 139, but provide for 'liberalising' the regime established under it. Meeting the committee, Dorman-Smith now accepted the prospect of returning to the 1935 constitution. Fixed date and large sums were clearly unacceptable: he took what he could get. In a memorandum for Amery, the Governor endeavoured to clarify and indeed make the most of the new programme. He assumed that the liberalised Section 139 regime would operate for three years from December 1945, when the three years allowed under the act of 1935 ran out. On the assumption that civil government returned to Rangoon in mid-1946, that would mean some two-and-a-half years of direct rule. Then, unless unrest or other contingency occurred, Burma would be given back no less than 'the constitutional rights and powers which she enjoyed under the Government of Burma Act'. The next stage would last no longer than was necessary to make any changes in the constitution and to conclude a treaty with Great Britain, and then Burma would take its place 'as a full self-governing unit of the British Empire with all the privileges, rights and responsibilities attached to that position', with control over foreign policy and local defence and the right to secede. 'It is highly improbable that we will be able to do much in the way of reconstruction and rehabilitation between 1946 and 1948. But we could, I hope, start things off in the right way and have made arrangements for supplies. But this consideration should not weigh too heavily.'33 The War Cabinet accepted the policy on 4 May.34 Rangoon had been occupied; VE Day was at hand. 'Even Winston was in a cheery mood', Amery reported, 'and I very much doubt whether he had read the papers.'35 Though those that had prepared the explanatory statement had been conscious of the need to take account of world opinion, the Far Eastern Department of the Foreign Office, as L. H. Foulds pointed out, had not been consulted at any stage. The Americans will inevitably compare what they are doing in the Philippines with what we are proposing to do in Burma and while, of course,

16

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA it is far from certain that they have acted wisely in restoring the powers of the Filipino Civil Administration before the Japanese have been completely ejected from the Philippines, that will not prevent them from animadverting unfavourably upon our plans for Burma. This need not divert us from exercising the caution which our experience teaches us to be required, but in our presentation of our intentions, we may as well protect ourselves as far as possible against unjustified criticism.

Foulds therefore suggested also cutting a reference to the possibility of extending direct rule beyond December 1948. Sterndale Bennett, head of the department, agreed. He echoed the Governor in another way. 'Would it not be possible to insert some warmer introduction, welcoming the idea of the ultimate assumption by Burma of a status of equality with the other self-governing components of the Empire?'36 Several of the amendments which, on behalf of the Foreign Office, Richard Law put to Amery, were made,37 but the tone of the statement was not altered. Dening had declared that it was 'too complicated for general Asiatic public upon whom I suggest the essence rather than the detail should be impressed. The key-point is, I think, that we are offering Burma equal status to ourselves in a measure of time, the shortness of which will depend largely on the people of Burma themselves . . ,'38 Indeed, while the capture of Rangoon had perhaps eased the passage of the policy through Cabinet, no statement had been available at that point. The statement was issued in a White Paper only on 17 May, and it was still in 'Whitehallese'.39 Further explanation came only in the debate on the second reading. Then indeed another issue was raised. 'We do not want to see, in Burma or in any other country, the rapid seizing of power by any particular group of people in order [to] improvise some form of Government', Cripps declared.40 In Burma, however, Mountbatten had begun to work with Aung San and his Thakin colleagues. The Rangoon correspondent of the Times reported that older men of the parliamentary type were 'now overshadowed by younger men, who have built up an extensive organisation resembling the resistance movements familiar in Europe'. It could not yet be seen whether this new form of Burmese nationalism would 'prove suitable for the requirements of peaceful political activity'. Burma's future, as Cripps said, must develop 'in an orderly way; and it would be contrary to the true interests of the country that a particular programme should be imposed through the rapid seizing of power by one group . . .' It was essential, the Times concluded, 'that Burmese nationalism should be taken into partnership from the earliest possible moment if its cooperation, essential for the success of British policy, is to be secured . . .'41

THE MALAYAN UNION CONCEPT

17

If here lay one tension between Mountbatten's policy and that of the government itself, there was another tension between the military and political approach. The 1935 act had kept the scheduled areas apart from the parliamentary government. In the military struggle minority peoples, such as Kachins and Karens, provided courageous allies of the British. That stressed ethnic divisions. Yet no Burman could accept that the scheduled areas should remain separated from a Burma that advanced to independence, and British policy-makers tried to take account of this. Policy for the scheduled areas should be framed with a view to ultimate union or federation with ministerial Burma, DormanSmith suggested, but it should be made clear that 'we have no intention' of 'forcing' that on the peoples there.42 The White Paper finally alluded to 'a special regime under the Governor'. Even if a satisfactory settlement could be reached in respect of the scheduled areas, the Karen problem would not be fully solved, since many lived in the lowlands. Advance towards independence intensified ethnic tensions. The Malayan Union concept

In pre-war Malaya such tensions had been less evident. There were indeed profound ethnic divisions, among the Malays, the Chinese, and the Indians. For the most part, however, the communities did not openly clash, held apart, as they were, by their different economic roles and by their geographical location. The colonial regime, itself fragmented, had, as it were, an arbitral role. But it had long been recognised that such a system could not continue indefinitely. The regime was too incoherent: nine Malay states, four in the Federated Malay States (FMS), centred on Kuala Lumpur, five not; none under British sovereignty; and a Crown colony, comprising three separate settlements, Penang, Melaka, Singapore. That impeded efficient government: it impeded political progress, too. Of the need for that the British were also conscious in the inter-war period. The nature of the plural society of British Malaya did not make for easy resolution of the problem. Majority rule, it was thought, must mean the dominance of the Chinese. That seemed likely, particularly given the impact on British interests of the KMT and CCP in China, to undermine British interests in Malaya, now especially valued for the dollar-earning capacity of its rubber production. It also seemed likely to swamp the Malays, treaties with whose states had established the British position in Malaya. Attempts to deal with these problems inter-war had been largely unsuccessful. The keyword was 'decentralisation'. That was intended to

18

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

return more power to the Malay states in the FMS, so that it might become possible to establish an all-Malay political entity. That would make for a more efficient system of governance. In the longer term, it would also absorb Malay-Chinese tension. The retention of Malay superstructure would help to guarantee a political position for the Malays. The Chinese would have expanded economic opportunity. The most vigorous protagonist of such a policy was the High Commissioner, Sir Cecil Clementi. In fact, he was too vigorous for the Colonial Office. In the inter-war period, especially the 1930s, the British were anxious to avoid unnecessary risks. In Burma there was no alternative but to continue on the path of political advance. In Malaya, it might be better to avoid changing the status quo too much, since a successful outcome was uncertain. Sir Cecil's successor, Sir Shenton Thomas, achieved some decentralisation, but there was widespread disillusion with the concept, and he himself thought it 'an extravagant, dilatory and discriminative form of government'.43 Some officials at the Colonial Office, indeed, believed that there was a need for a bolder policy: Edward Gent described the policy of the 1930s as 'barren', 'a merely static policy of ignoring undoubted interests'.44 The war indeed seemed to offer what Roland Braddell called 'a God-sent chance'.45 Not only had the old system made it more difficult for the British to defend Malaya, and destroyed any chance that the inhabitants would defend themselves: the disaster that followed seemed an opportunity. The notion paralleled Dorman-Smith's hope of building a better Burma. The idealism of the new imperialism again seemed to overcome a sense of realism. How was it possible to envisage that the British could, as it were, start again, and have the chance to do better? Other factors were at work in Malaya (as in Burma) that suggested realism, albeit of a different kind. Though the British planners might take too little account of the interests and attitudes of the inhabitants of their territories, they were aware of the interests and attitudes of their allies in the war. The departments, as in respect of Burma, had the same aims, though there were different emphases. The Colonial Office, for example, thought the Foreign Office too subservient in its wish to placate world opinion. It saw the plan for a Malayan Union as a restatement of the basic principle of trusteeship, a change of means not a change of policy. The plan was very much the work of Gent and the Eastern Department at the Colonial Office, 'Young Turks',46 influenced by its perception of the need for reconstruction, and by the views about the future of the empire post-war common in Whitehall. There was no governor-inexile to take the initiative or to get in the way: Sir Shenton was in Changi while Sir Reginald was in Simla; and in any case the status of Malaya and

THE MALAYAN UNION CONCEPT

19

Burma differed, the latter approaching dominion status far more nearly than the former. But there was a military input. The War Office planned for the initial return to Malaya through its Malayan Planning Unit (MPU), some of the members of which - Ralph Hone, P. McKerron, Alexander Newboult - were pre-war Malayan Civil Service men. And as the reconquest approached, SEAC sought a greater role, urging, for example, the need for helpful propaganda. Planning for Malaya, as for Burma, began in 1942. Britain, the Colonial Office and Foreign Office agreed, was to return to its dependencies with a view to preparing them for self-government, developing their resources, ensuring security. The Colonial Office conceived of a Southeast Asia Union, including the FMS, UMS and SS, and ultimately the Borneo territories. By March 1943 it was contemplating a stage-by-stage approach. Singapore was to be kept separate: it was a free port and a naval base, its wealth resented on the peninsula, its power feared. The Borneo territories were not ready to join. Instead a Governor-General would be appointed. The Malay states were to be federated. Hone argued for a close union on the peninsula and a more cut-and-dried approach. The Foreign Office feared lest this looked like imposing direct British rule; the War Office emphasised the need to educate British and world opinion over the change in policy; the Colonial Office recognised the need for caution and for finalising details after on-the-spot assessment. But the MPU had its way. Cabinet endorsement was sought and secured, much more promptly than in the case of Burma, though liberation was more remote. The proposals went to a special Cabinet committee in January 1944. Britain's return to Malaya was presented as an opportunity to achieve closer cooperation in Malaya 'without going through the lengthy process which the sponsors of the decentralisation policy had to envisage'. Efficiency and security alike required change: and autocratic rule by Malay rulers should give way to a more progressive system providing for a growing participation by the people of all the communities in Malaya. The treaties with rulers were to be re-negotiated so as to enable the Crown to legislate for the Malay states under the Foreign Jurisdiction Act and provide for the union of the states, Penang and Melaka, the rulers remaining the natural leaders of the people.47 At a committee meeting on 22 March, Clement Attlee had this provision re-written so as to keep open the option of disposing of the sultanates. The War Cabinet approved the recommendations on 31 May 1944. The proposals did not derive merely from a concern over the 'barren' past. Nor was the concern over foreign opinion instrumental only in urging on political advance. Acquiring jurisdiction had a special purpose. It was necessary to provide for integration and for defence, and to

20

PLANS FOR POST-WAR SOUTHEAST ASIA

give legal status to non-Malays. 'There is a closer reason.' The position of non-Malays had been 'a potential source of trouble in the past. Their claim is likely to be stronger in future (1) because of the more positive part which the Chinese of all Asiatic communities are likely to play in resisting the Japanese (2) the participation of Indian troops in the "armies of liberation" will strengthen the hand of the Govt. of India in reviving as they undoubtedly will, a demand for "civic" rights for Indians.' There might be difficulties with 'a postwar nationalist China'. A new extraterritoriality treaty gave China 'power for great intervention in Malaya. It would be intolerable if they could exercise this on behalf of all persons of Chinese race.' If the Malay rulers gave His Majesty jurisdiction, however, they would be 'nationals' for the purpose of the treaty.48 Nowhere did British planning envisage abandonment. In Malaya, one motive was to limit the role of an ally, the Republic of China, which had to be treated, as the Foreign Office put it, 'on a basis of full equality with our other allies . . . it was desirable that the re-establishment of British authority in Malaya should be accompanied by, at any rate, a show of treatment of the Chinese Government on equality with other powers . . ,'49 The re-negotiated extraterritoriality treaty with China was an argument for the new policy in Malaya. Though the Colonial Office talked of flexibility, the British plan for Malaya post-war became yet more rigid. The sultans, it was agreed, must have little room for manoeuvre: the new treaties should be made after the Allied invasion when they were nervous and military rule prevailed. But this approach was somewhat at odds with the need to prepare public opinion as the fortunes of war changed. Publicising the plans might arouse controversy in Britain without winning the support of the inhabitants of Malaya. Late in 1944 the Colonial Office decided to recommend limited publicity, but Cabinet rejected it. Only on 15 June 1945 did it accept a still more limited scheme.50 In Burma the announcement of policy, once sought in part as an aid in the military struggle, was not ready by the time the country had been largely liberated. In Malaya it was ready but difficult to announce, lest that made it more difficult to implement, rather than less. In fact the policy turned out to have no significance in terms of a war of liberation, since there was none. The war came to an early end as a result of the dropping of the atomic bombs and Japan's surrender. There was a delay in re-occupying Malaya, rather than a conflict with its occupiers. Yet the plan had been drawn up partly with such a conflict in mind. The desire to give the Chinese community a greater role in the future of Malaya had been strengthened by the belief that it would be the main source of support for the Allied troops. The plan, finally outlined in public on 10 October, was not changed, though the war had ended differently.

THE BORNEO TAKE-OVER PROPOSAL

21

The Borneo take-over proposal

In respect of what was called British Borneo the British government adopted approaches that bore some comparison with those adopted towards what was called British Malaya. One difference was, of course, that until the discovery of large oil reserves it was of far less economic value. British political intervention had been reluctant, and might quite likely not have occurred but for the initiative of James Brooke. The British government established a colony only on the island of Labuan. The Brooke raj in Sarawak, the remnant of the sultanate of Brunei, and the state of North Borneo, administered by a chartered company under grants from the Sultans of Brunei and Sulu of 1878, were given protection under agreements made in 1888. But the agreements did not give the British any administrative role. In the 1890s the Colonial Office, led by C. P. Lucas, began to develop a new approach, particularly after the creation of the FMS. Might not a comparable structure be created out of the Borneo territories? In 1906 a Resident was placed in Brunei, the sultan seeing that as a last-resort means of preserving independence, the CO as a first step towards federation. Sultan Hashim was more successful than the Colonial Office. No federation emerged, nor were British officials placed in Sarawak or North Borneo. Sir Cecil Clementi tried in vain. In 1941 Sir Vyner Brooke celebrated the centenary of the raj by granting a constitution. But though the same year he accepted the appointment of a British representative, the constitution was in a sense an assertion of continued independence. The protecting power failed to protect, but nevertheless saw the collapse of its position in Borneo as an opportunity. British Borneo, like British Malaya, could be reconstructed post-war. The memorandum that proposed changes in the one proposed changes in the other. North Borneo was to be acquired from the company and united with Labuan, the paper ofJanuary 1944 proposed. The Sultan of Brunei and the Raja of Sarawak were to be invited to allow the application of the Foreign Jurisdiction Act. No union was proposed in Borneo as in Malaya, but 'community of policy' was to be assured by making the Governor of North Borneo and the British advisers in Sarawak and Brunei responsible to the Governor-General. A new treaty with Sarawak would be needed, so that the raja should accept a British adviser, whose advice was to be asked and acted upon in respect of all substantial matters of policy and administration. The Cabinet endorsed the policy in May 1944.51 As in respect of Malaya, so in Borneo, planning was affected by concern about Allied views and by the need for future defence, as well as by a persistent but unfulfilled hankering after re-organisation. Though

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clearly it was thought the peoples should have more stake in the political system, the way that might happen was to be prescribed. The aim was to get the raja, who had fled to Australia, to agree to a new treaty in principle, and then, during the military administration, send someone to Sarawak to obtain the consent of the people. The raja was reluctant to agree to negotiations, but, pressed, assented to initial discussions. These involved his nephew and heir, Anthony, who was made head of a provisional government, and in February 1945 he submitted proposals to the Colonial Office. These, he was told, did not go far enough. He stood by the 1941 constitution and would not accept the Foreign Jurisdiction Act. In July 1945 Oliver Stanley complained to Raja Vyner that the Sarawak representatives were 'unresponsive'.52 No agreement had been made when the atomic bombs were dropped and Japan capitulated. Sarawak could be expected to come under military occupation, and an agreement became essential, particularly as that occupation would be by Australian forces. The impatience of the British government was all the greater since it was now in Labour hands and, while Labour for the most part stuck to the policies of the wartime coalition, it was disposed not only to reduce the role of sultans in Malaya, but to get rid of the raj in Sarawak. The restoration of relations with Siam In the heyday of Britain's imperialism, Siam had retained its independence. The British accepted the existence of an independent and friendly Siam, an outwork of British Burma and Malaya. The Siamese made concessions, commercial and territorial, to the British, but retained, in King Mongkut's phrase, their house and home.53 They made concessions to others, too, partly out of necessity, partly to make the concessions to the British less unique. Again, the absolute monarchy of Chulalongkorn appointed advisers, British, but not merely British. In the inter-war period, the power of the British declined. They sought to retain their influence by sustaining their prestige in Asia as a whole and by coming to terms with the shifts in Siam's politics, with the moves to abolish the unequal treaties in the 1920s and to upset the absolute monarchy in the coup of 1932. But the events of the late 1930s destroyed British prestige in Asia as elsewhere, and the vigorous chauvinism of the military faction of the Promoters of the coup, led by Pibun, proved even less welcome than the so-called 'communism' of Pridi and the civilians whom they increasingly pushed aside. After the opening of the war in Europe in 1939, Sir Josiah Crosby, an old Siamese hand sent to work with the new leaders, had attempted still to conciliate them. Their cooperation became more necessary as the

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Japanese threat grew, but also more uncertain. When the Japanese attack came, the Thais offered only token resistance. Subsequently, however, Pibun signed a treaty of alliance with Japan, and in January 1942 Thailand (the name for the country since 1939) declared war on the UK and the US. Its troops entered Burma with Japanese forces. In planning for post-war Southeast Asia, the British would not, of course, wish to destroy the independence of Thailand. It had been a basic principle in their traditional policy towards the region, and was entirely compatible with a policy that looked towards the emergence of states in the region that were independent but collaborative and worked with the West. Their general concern over the trends in Thai policy, and their particular concern over the security of Malaya, led them, however, to consider ways in which Thailand could be re-directed or re-shaped. The fact that it had declared war left the way open for suggestions that it should redeem itself.54 The US differed from Britain. It ignored the declaration of war, repudiated by the Thai ambassador in the US, Seni Pramoj, and it regarded the British policy with suspicion. In April 1942 the Chinese embassy in London asked the Ministry of Information if a statement about Thailand which Chiang Kai-shek proposed to make would fit in with its propaganda. The statement was that the Allied nations attributed Thailand's alliance with Japan and declarations of war to coercion, cherished no malice towards the Thai people, and had no territorial design on Thailand nor any desire that might impair its independence.55 The Foreign Office, consulted, saw no objection: the statement, as Dening said, would come from Chiang Kai-shek and would not commit Great Britain. The US reacted differently. The State Department suggested alterations, such as the omission of the reference to coercion, but added that, if the Chinese government made the statement, the US government would indicate to the press that it was in general agreement. The objective was to encourage Thai resistance. The Foreign Office thought that if the US acted Britain should take the same line. That made the wording more important, in particular, as Philip Broad pointed out, that of the sentence on territorial integrity and independence. 'This would be the first time we had declared this, but anything different from such a sentiment would of course be inconsistent with the terms of the Atlantic Charter, so that nothing now is really involved.'56 The item, however, drew Churchill's attention: 'it might be found necessary after the war', he pointed out, 'to consider some sort of Protectorate over the Kra Peninsula area, including Singgora, in the interests of the future security of Singapore.'57 The Chinese statement finally emerged in a broadcast of February 1943.58 This Roosevelt publicly endorsed.59 But the British did not, Churchill noting that 'it is not proposed that we should go out of our way to make any statement'.60

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The lack of a British statement, a Siamese emissary made clear to Sir Horace Seymour, the British ambassador in Chungking, had caused 'some despondency' in the Free Siamese movement. That was led by Pridi who had been kicked upstairs to the Council of Regency, where he had refused to sign the declaration of war. Siam was in the area of Mountbatten's newly-created SEAC, Dening pointed out. It was time to decide Britain's policy towards it, in particular in view of the emissary's suggestion that a Free Siamese government might be set up in India.61 The initial focus was on a declaration 'in the absence of which we at present lag behind the United States and China', as Dening put it.62 An interdepartmental meeting recommended a declaration favouring the post-war restoration of 'a free and independent Siam'. There would be no reference to territorial integrity lest that tied Britain's hands over Kra; its absence could also be justified by the fact that Thailand had accepted from the Japanese the transfer of the northern Malay states.63 The Cabinet asked for a draft of the declaration.64 The draft was hardly encouraging. 'A country with a long tradition of friendship with us betrayed that friendship at the first sign of pressure from Japan', and it declared war. For these acts Siam is already paying the price and will undoubtedly pay a yet heavier price as the war reaches her territories. It is still possible for the people of Siam to do something to save themselves from the worst consequences of their betrayal and they will be judged by the efforts which they make to redeem their crime. Like other countries in like case 'they must work their passage home'. If they do, and only if they do so, they can look to this country to support the emergence of a free and independent Siam after the war is over.65 'I don't believe it will do any good, here or anywhere else', Anthony Eden, the Foreign Secretary, wrote.66 Indeed the State Department was critical. Perhaps, it was thought, officials there did not want to lose their credit of goodwill. But it might also be that they could interpret the last sentence as a British plan to add Thailand to the empire.67 Sir George Sansom was told in Washington that the US reply would object to the 'general tone' of the declaration, as likely to be unacceptable to Siam and to afford a propaganda opening to the Japanese: for it did not include a statement on the integrity of Siam.68 He was also given a statement of US policy: it favoured the restoration to Siam of 'complete security as a sovereign state'.69 'We have come to the conclusion that the declaration as it now stands would not be helpful in giving encouragement to the Siamese people to resist the Japanese, might very likely be exploited by the Japanese to the disadvantage of the UN, and would augment distrust in the United States and in China and elsewhere of the

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motives of Great Britain.' It would be better to make no declaration than to make the one proposed; if it were made, it should include 'at least an unequivocal commitment that Great Britain has no territorial ambitions in Siam'. The US hoped that, if Britain made a declaration, it could say something parallel.70 'The temptation to drop the whole exasperating business is very strong', G. P. Young admitted at the Foreign Office. But C-in-C India, SACSEA, and the Special Operations Executive (SOE) wanted a declaration 'for operational reasons, and having got this far I do not think we are justified in dropping it because the Americans don't like it'. He revised the text, to put it more in parliamentary question form, and to promise Siam 'complete security as a free sovereign and independent State'. When the Cabinet approved it, he said, it must be communicated to the Americans, in the hope they would make a parallel statement. Ashley Clarke agreed to persist. But Eden was doubtful. 'I cannot believe that this will serve any useful purpose . . . The last sentence can hardly be thought encouraging to anyone. But if department really want it, I must get Prime Minister's approval before I take it to Cabinet. . .' The last sentence was altered to take out the reference to the Siamese 'saving themselves from the worst consequences of the treachery of their Government'. Instead account was to be taken of their contribution to their own liberation, a phrase borrowed from the Moscow declaration on Austria. With Churchill's assent - extracted with difficulty - a paper went to the Cabinet.71 It finally decided against a declaration. The draft was felt to be 'unduly favourable . . . , bearing in mind the attitude of Siam in going to war with us notwithstanding the treaty of nonaggression between the two countries'. 72 In October the State Department returned to the charge, stressing the importance of reaching 'if possible, a common policy towards Thailand'. The US would like an explanation of British reservations in regard to security and to Kra. Delivering the note to Bennett, John Allison of the US Embassy explained that he thought that the State Department understood our position fairly well but there was a lot of uninformed opinion in the United States - of the type which asked why the United States should expend a lot of effort in handing back territories like Malaya and Borneo to the British Empire. It helped the State Department in dealing with this sort of opinion to be able to point to definite British statements about their policy in relation to particular territories. The reply sent to John Winant, the US ambassador, suggested that 'great precision' was impractical. But 'ordinary prudence' suggested a reservation in regard to security and economic collaboration; and Kra

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would have to be considered in arrangements for the future security of Southeast Asia.73 The reply did not really remove distrust. No doubt there was something in the view it expressed; but that the time had come to define policy had been recognised even in London. An interdepartmental Far Eastern Committee had, indeed, been set up, and one of its terms of reference was to consider the future of Siam and Indo-China.74 'The Japanese', George Hall, the Parliamentary Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office, told the first meeting, 'were being pushed back and many questions affecting the territories now occupied would call for the Committee's attention in advance of the ultimate peace settlement'.75 At its second meeting, Bennett introduced a discussion on Siam and the Eden-Winant correspondence. The aim must be to 'draw up our own definition of policy for our own purposes and for possible discussion with the Americans at some later stage'. The first question was 'whether it would be useful to encourage a movement of resistance in Siam. Bound up with this was the question of the essential conditions which any Free Siamese Movement might be required to accept before it was recognised, or which Siam would have to accept before restoration as a free and independent State.' The Siamese had allied with the Japanese and accepted British territory from them. 'In these circumstances it seemed reasonable that our minimum requirements should be the denunciation of the alliance with Japan, the renunciation of the territorial gains and a promise to restore British enterprise in Siam.' The second question was the arrangements for civil administration when military operations began. The third question was 'more remote - what sort of future did we anticipate for Siam?' Representatives of other departments raised other points. Gent of the Colonial Office, for example, referred not only to the regaining of the northern Malay states, but to 'the question whether Malay speaking territory adjacent to Malaya in Southern Siam ought not to be free to join Malaya'. Another issue was the anticipated rice surplus in Siam. 'If we paid for this rice', N. E. Young of the Treasury suggested, 'we should be giving Siam a claim either on the dollar area or on the sterling area. There ought to be some arrangement for the rice to be supplied as part of the price of defeat. The alternative would be to arrange for Siam to be brought in as a contributing member of UNRRA, but Siam should not have the benefit of both worlds.' The meeting asked the Foreign Office to consider the various points.76 The British approach to Thailand already diverged from the American. The process of interdepartmental consultation was likely only to aggregate demands. The rice issue was to be the most serious. It had regional implications, and it bore on the question of the return of the colonial powers.

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It had been raised earlier by the Ministry of Food. On liberation, both Malaya and Hong Kong and perhaps Netherlands India would have large rice requirements. Burma's production would take time to restore, but Siam, a traditional source, had large stocks. 'If we can lay our hands on this rice as quickly as possible after the process of liberation has begun in the Far East, we shall solve what is probably the major relief problem of that area.' But clearly political problems were involved. G. P. Young had pointed out, indeed, that the Siamese had declared war, 'and we can do what we like with their rice'. But a purely British scheme would have to be cleared with the Americans, the Chinese, and the Dutch, 'not to mention the Combined Food Board': SEAC forces could get hold of it, 'but the other powers concerned will presumably wish to have a say in the allocation. And of course UNRRA will be interested in the subsequent disposal of any surplus.'77 At a meeting convened by the Ministry of Food early in September, H. L. Sanderson, the Director of Rice, stressed that it would not be sufficient for the occupying power to acquire the surplus: it would have to stimulate production, too. Yet world rice prices had risen, 'and it would be necessary to decide to what extent rice prices to producers in Siam should be allowed to rise also. If some control of Siamese prices were not instituted at the start they would inevitably have repercussions on prices and production in Burma and control of the industry in that territory would be more difficult.' The Treasury Young pointed out that buying the rice would only increase Siam's sterling balance. 'He asked whether the Siamese Government could be induced, as part of the peace settlement, to requisition existing rice stocks and hand them over to the occupying power.' The stocks, Sanderson thought, were already government property. Requisitioning would not stimulate further production: an incentive was needed in the form of purchasable consumer goods.78 Dening was unhappy with the tone of the correspondence with Winant. He had expected Siam to be on the side of the big battalions in 1940-1, and he could not entertain any hard feelings about it. Nor could he now entertain expectations of Siamese resistance. At the peace, no doubt the Siamese must return the territories they had acquired, and no doubt Britain 'must have some kind of safeguard in the Kra Isthmus. Beyond that I would strongly advocate that we should forget and forgive. To this extent I think the American attitude is more realistic than ours, and if we are not careful, we shall find that it is they who in post-war days will have achieved popularity, while a grudge is borne against us.' Nor did he think the correspondence had 'removed the suspicion, which I think still exists in American minds, that we have territorial designs upon the Kra Isthmus . . . And I also do not think that we have made ourselves

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sufficiently clear as to what it is we want.' Details must indeed await the peace settlement, but 'something simpler and more categorical' was required than the statement in Eden's last letter.79 Meanwhile the Cabinet's Post-Hostilities Planning Committee had been formally asked to report on the strategic importance of Siam, and on any special arrangements necessary in the Kra Isthmus to safeguard the defence of Singapore.80 'Indo-China is the key to the security of our strategic interests in this area, and, so long as it can be denied to the enemy, Siam is of lesser importance', it declared. But Siam would be important as a base for the defence of Indo-China, and an effective air defence system in Siam would also help in protecting Malaya and Burma. In the absence of sea and air control, the security of Malaya could not be assured by holding the land approaches, but a defensive position on the Kra Isthmus 'might prove of some value'. Britain should oppose the construction of a canal there: it would increase British responsibilities and decrease the strategic value of Singapore. A friendly government in Siam was a 'paramount interest'. It must be prepared to act on British advice in general defence matters, and grant the British Commonwealth the right in peace to take defence measures in Siamese territory on the Malay Peninsula and in the eastern foothills of the mountain range to the east of the Burma border. In war Britain must have transit facilities and unrestricted rights to take such defence measures as it deemed necessary, though the facilities need not be reserved to Britain.81 The First Sea Lord criticised the paper as 'cast on idealistic rather than realistic lines'. Britain should aim at objectives it could achieve and obtain them by a bilateral treaty. 'It would give us certain defence rights in time of war and also control of the training and equipping of the Siamese Armed Forces and responsibilities for supervising Siamese defence measures . . ,'82 A treaty with Siam might appear to imply a guarantee of Siam, the Foreign Office pointed out. The final version, dated 30 March, therefore proposed, not a treaty, but a British military mission.83 Making policy by consultation with other departments added to its intractability, as well as delaying its formulation. And even within the Foreign Office the resentment of Siam's policy towards an imperial power introduced some air of unreality. Britain's policy was not likely to outbid US policy in securing Thai friendship, as Dening had hoped. Nor was Britain likely to secure an alternative objective, of at once cooperating with the US and modifying its stance, so as to bring Thailand into line. It was difficult to persuade the Americans of the Tightness of the British stance, let alone persuade them to modify theirs. That difficulty was enhanced by the vagueness of Britain's aims, and by the reservations

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over communicating with the Americans, both on the part of those who wanted to outbid them in contacts with the Thais and of those who wanted to deal more harshly with the Thais than they did. That it was, however, not merely a matter of attitude and judgment was illustrated by the rice question: there were imperial responsibilities of which the Americans took too little account. Sanderson thought that the rice requirements of countries freed from Japan, apart from China, would exceed a million tons, 'and it will be disastrous if our re-entry into them coincides with a shortage of essential foodstuffs'. It was necessary to acquire surplus stocks in the producing countries and to restore their production. In Siam at the end of 1944, there was perhaps a surplus of half a million tons on the 1943-4 crop, and there was a potential surplus of 800,000 tons on that of 1944-5. The Ministry of Food proposed to introduce a Rice unit. Government stocks could be requisitioned, and settlement adjusted later. But requisition of rice privately held or produced would destroy the incentive to produce more. Instead a price should be agreed with the Siamese authorities in proper relation with that in Burma. Rice acquired by the unit would be sold on behalf of the British government.84 Any surrender terms, it was suggested at the Far Eastern Committee, must give the Allies the appropriate powers. 'Alternatively, any agreement with an eventual friendly or co-belligerent Siamese Government should make it an obligation upon that Government to make available any existing rice surplus and to produce rice for export in subsequent years.' A unit should be set up by SEAC to function either as part of a military government or control commission, or as a body in cooperation with a friendly Siamese government. It might be Anglo-American, but it should be 'predominantly British'. The rice stocks, mainly in government hands, should be acquired, but not at inflated prices that would enrich Siam. Perhaps they should be made available as reparation. Or, if the American view of Siam prevailed, Siam might contribute the rice 'as a concrete proof of friendliness to the liberators and to other liberated territories'.85 Effectively in power since Pibun's resignation in 1944, and sole Regent, Pridi proposed to send to Kandy (the SEAC headquarters) a mission including an ex-Minister of Foreign Affairs, Direk Chaiyanam. That induced the Far Eastern Department at the Foreign Office to raise once more the question of a political statement to the Siamese. The mission could not be refused: if it were the American Office of Strategic Services might bring it out. A complete silence on political issues could not be maintained.86 A Cabinet paper, prepared by the Foreign Office and the SOE, was circulated by the Deputy Prime Minister, Attlee, on 17 February. Britain could not make unrestricted promises to Pridi

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about the future of Siam. But 'it is against our interests to leave the field to the Americans and the Chinese by remaining completely and indefinitely silent about our general attitude towards Siam'. The mission could be assumed to be going to Mountbatten as 'the highest British military authority', and not as SACSEA, but the US should be informed of the instructions sent to him. They should stipulate that as Supreme Allied Commander he should confine himself to military matters; if political issues were raised, he should say he could only report them. But he might inform Direk, either directly or through the Political Adviser, that the British government looked forward to friendly relations with a free, sovereign and independent Siam; that the road to this was, however, 'not a smooth one'; and that much would depend on Siam's contribution to the defeat ofJapan, and on its readiness to make good the damage done to Britain and its Allies in consequence of the association with Japan, and 'to ensure security and good neighbourly relations for the future'.87 At the Cabinet the question of the return of British territory was again brought up, presumably by the Colonial Secretary. The Cabinet agreed not to include a specific reference, but to allude to making restitution for injury rather than making good damage done.88 Bennett accepted this. The point was to have a phrase that, 'without arousing premature controversy or further criticism' from the Americans, would cover not only the seizure of British territory and injury to British commercial interests, but also any other injuries or even 'some general reparation'. The phrase was also 'wide enough to cover French territories taken from Indo-China by Siam and this may be a useful point with the French later on. But any phrase which obviously excludes French territories may put us wrong with the French at a later stage, while any phrase which obviously includes them will certainly put us wrong with the United States.'89 While the Cabinet defined what Mountbatten and Dening might say to Direk - it offered the Thais in the event 'little butter with their bun'90 - Sansom discussed with Joseph W. Ballantine of the State Department what a Thai emissary had suggested in Washington: the setting-up of a provisional government outside Siam, which should repudiate Siamese acts of war and acquisitions of territory. The American view, Ballantine thought, 'was that if, starting with some modest acts of recognition of a Free Siamese Movement, amicable relations could be built up with Siam in the post-war period, this would set a pattern for the relations of occidental and oriental states in the future which would be of all-round advantage'. At least, Foulds commented, the State Department did not favour a government-in-exile. But Direk's proposal was preferable.91 He had suggested that the government should resign when the invasion came, and that a resistance government would be set up in a place safe

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from the Japanese.92 The State Department denied there was a serious difference between the Siamese suggestions and proposed a Liberation Committee in Washington.93 Bennett told Allison once more that Britain - against which Siam had declared war and from which it had taken territory - must consider any Siamese approaches 'rather carefully. We could not rush into their arms all in a moment.' The US must not misunderstand British caution.94 Again the British made another reassuring statement that, lacking specificity, failed to reassure. The State Department did not give the British government a copy of the proposals the Siamese made in Washington. Foulds and Bennett were suspicious that they were not the Thais' own work.95 A letter from Allison increased the suspicion.96 Foulds decided that the note from the State Department made it 'desirable for us to formulate more precisely than we had hitherto done the terms which we shall require the Siamese to accept as a condition of the restoration of friendly relations . . .' Bennett felt that 'we must make it clear to the Americans that it is we who have the primary interest in Siam and who must therefore be allowed to make the running . . . there will have to be some clear understanding on how the past is to be wiped out and the future provided for before H.M. Government (and the Dominion Governments who are also at war with Siam) can enter into formal collaboration with a new Siamese Government or a Siamese Liberation Movement'. There were also members of Cabinet who saw Siam 'with no particular benevolence' who had to be carried along. Postponing a reply to the US raised the danger of a fait accompli. An interim reply should be sent, and then terms for dealing with a Siamese liberation government must be worked out with urgency in order to avoid premature American action, to prepare for political warfare in advance of operations, and to provide for the possibility of a Japanese seizure of power, such as had just taken place in Indo-China. A reply went to the US a day after another conversation in which Allison had alluded to State Department suspicions over Kra and over a control commission, suspicions which Sansom attributed to antiimperialism, whereas Allison attributed them more specifically to his colleague K. P. Landon.97 The reply stressed the importance of working through Pridi.98 A memorandum was circulated to the Cabinet, seeking a directive to the Far Eastern Committee. This included a reference to the importance of Siamese collaboration in securing the maximum amount of rice.99 The Cabinet agreed to the proposal.100 The committee was to report on 'the terms which any friendly Siamese liberation government should be required by His Majesty's Government to accept as a preliminary to recognition and collaboration'.101 While a working party considered the general policy towards Siam, Ruth - as OSS, and also SOE, called Pridi - made a new approach to

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Britain and the US. In this he held out the prospect that the Siamese government, resenting Japanese economic pressure, would resign, and a new one be formed, taking measures against Japan and declaring the declarations of war and the incorporation of Shan and Malayan territory void. He wanted Britain and the dominions to declare at the beginning of Siamese action 'that they confirm respect of the independence of Siam and that they do not consider Siam as an enemy but as a member of the United Nations'.102 The Siamese, wrote Bennett, appeared to think early Allied operations in Siam were anticipated, but Mountbatten would not wish to dissipate his forces.103 Possibly Ruth wanted 'to produce a situation in which he feels that we shall have no alternative but to come to the support of a Resistance Movement with material help and with declarations of the type which he suggests - in this he may be judging shrewdly as we should be under pressure from the United States, both to make a declaration of the type suggested', and to send in military assistance to the possible detriment of other operations. A declaration would be necessary at some stage. But if possible it should not be made before an agreement had been reached with Ruth: 'there are several things to settle up before we welcome Siam as a member of the United Nations or commit ourselves to a declaration which would to all appearances entirely wash out the past and heal the breach with Siam . . ,'104 The COS and the Foreign Office agreed on a warning to Pridi 'not to bring matters to a head at present with risk of serious consequences for Siam'.105 The State Department also counselled against premature action, while indicating that it would publicly reiterate at an appropriate time that it respected Siam's independence and had never considered it as an enemy.106 A further discouragement was sent early in July: it was the wrong moment; terms were not ready.107 The former was a good reason, the latter a bad one. Nor did the delay extract Britain from obligation to Ruth: he could now say that he would have been more active in working his passage if he had been permitted.108 The working party meanwhile struggled with its task.109 There were indeed numerous complications. As Bennett put it, the settlement with a Siamese liberation government 'will have to embody many provisions appropriate to an armistice or Peace Treaty without having that appearance . . .' It could not be confined to immediate military questions, but it must commit the Siamese to 'all we want'. It involved difficulties of form, too, since only some of the parties concerned regarded themselves as at war with Siam. The general conclusion was there should be two agreements, one signed by SACSEA and one covering British desiderata. The completion of the working party's report was delayed not only by the difficulty of the problems it faced, but also by the dissolution of parliament.

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Meanwhile Ballantine gave Halifax, the ambassador, a memorandum on the State Department's views. The discussions on security arrangements affecting Kra should be broadened to ensure that all security questions were a matter ofjoint agreement between Britain and the US, and to involve France and China also. The US proposed to revive its commercial treaty with Siam, and hoped Siam would treat other nationals on a non-discriminatory basis: it wanted Britain's assurance that its policies were in harmony with these principles. The US ceased to recognise the Bangkok government in January 1942 and regarded Siam as enemy-occupied. But it would accord recognition and resume diplomatic relations when a lawful government on Siamese soil repudiated the declaration of war, the legality of which Ruth denied, and declared war on Japan. The US hoped that Britain could terminate the state of war similarly, thus avoiding embarrassment to an Allied command, and concurrent action might be taken by France and China. A. C. S. Adams suggested an interim reply 'to allay as far as possible the suspicions that have been engendered in the United States by our prolonged reticence on the subject of Siam's future'. American conditions for recognition omitted the restitution of territory and failed to take account of the differences between Siam's relationship with the US and its relationships with Britain, France and China. Tor mainly sentimental as opposed to practical reasons the US Government desire to show Siam a degree of leniency that has not been perceptible in their policies towards Axis satellites in Europe, e.g. Hungary, Bulgaria, etc. This tendency to paternalism in Asia makes it difficult for us as an Ally to pursue a normally realistic policy . . .' I. A. D. Wilson-Young stressed the importance of an explanation to the State Department before the balloon went up and it issued a declaration. 'Rather a ticklish subject', thought Sir Alexander Cadogan, the Permanent Under-Secretary. 'Until we can tell the Americans our views in detail they will remain suspicious. Even when we do, they will probably oppose some of the things we shall wish to do . . .' An interim reply pointed out once more 'that a number of difficult questions require settlement before it is possible for us to resume normal relations with a new Siamese Government'. If a crisis came - such as a Japanese coup - it was hoped that the US would not take unilateral action embarrassing to his majesty's governments at war with Siam.110 At the Far Eastern Committee meeting on 13 July, Bennett drew attention to the 'unusual features' of which the working party had had to take account. It had to deal with a 'hypothetical situation'; the settlement had to be 'comprehensive'; the recommendations had to have the agreement of departments and Cabinet, and the dominions and the US and perhaps France had to be consulted, yet the matter was urgent. The chief difficulties he foresaw included the rice question: the Americans

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might not object to the proposal, but might regard the financial arrangements envisaged as 'savouring of reparations'. The committee endorsed the Foreign Office's hope that the COS would reconsider their earlier recommendations on security in the light of the newly-adopted UN Charter and the State Department's memorandum.111 The Joint Planners agreed with the committee that it would be inexpedient to take a 'unilateral approach' and to propose a military mission at this juncture. A Siamese undertaking to furnish the right to deploy armed forces in war or on threat of war was also inexpedient, inasmuch as it might imply a guarantee. It would be preferable to request the Siamese to carry out such measures for preserving international peace and security as the UN might require pending their entry into the international organisation. The undertaking against a Kra canal should, however, remain part of the conditions.112 The COS agreed with Bennett that security matters should be discussed with the Americans, but that, in view of Siam's importance to the security of British territory, 'we do not consider that we should bind ourselves to take no action in furtherance of this security except with American approval'.113 These recommendations reached the Overseas Reconstruction Committee (ORC) - successor of the Armistice and Post-War (APW) Committee at the same time as the long-awaited general report of the Far Eastern Committee.114 The normal course to pursue in regard to Siam, the report suggested, would be to call for unconditional surrender, and to demand, not only restitution of territory and property rights, but reparation and measures to ensure that Siam would be a good neighbour in the economic sense and never again be a back door for the invasion of Burma and Malaya. 'But if we go beyond mere restitution and seek to impose some form of reparation or some form of control, economic or military, over Siam in the post-war period, it must be realised that we shall probably meet with great difficulty in achieving these ends.' The US could block or hinder military operations through the Combined Chiefs of Staff. The effect of withholding reconstruction or consumer goods, or economic and financial advice, could be nullified by the Americans' supplying them. Furthermore, 'both our short-term and our long-term interests lie in the willing cooperation of a genuinely friendly Siamese Government'. An effective rice scheme required its collaboration. Future trade depended on Siamese goodwill. Britain had to rely, too, 'on the cooperation of a stable and friendly Siamese Government in measures for the defence of South-East Asia'. An agreement with a friendly government would not be like an armistice involving unconditional surrender. It would have not only to liquidate the war, but to provide a framework for cooperation after it.

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The report went over some of the questions that had caused 'particular discussion'. One was the rice question. Siam's surplus had not been available in the war, and it would be equitable for it to be used to relieve the burden the Allies had borne as a result, and to feed neighbouring territories usually dependent on imports from Siam, like Malaya. Paying for the rice at even half the current price would place Siam in a more favourable financial position than territories which had not collaborated. Reparations could not be exacted in an agreement with a liberation government. A free delivery to UNRRA would not, under existing arrangements, help Malaya. It was therefore suggested that, on 'the analogy of Mutual Aid', one-and-a-half-million tons might be demanded 'as a contribution from Siam towards the Allied war effort'. As a counterpart, arms and munitions might be made available 'for the use of Siamese troops in the prosecution of the war against Japan'. Some of the rice would come from current production, but the cultivator would be paid by the Siamese government at prices agreed with the Rice Unit. This and other obligations, the report emphasised, should not be represented as 'purely voluntary and unilateral gestures on the part of the Siamese Liberation Government', which would create a wrong impression. They should be regarded as 'just requirements', accepted as 'definite obligations'. The report also covered the form of the proposed agreement. There was some urgency, since it would pave the way for anti-Japanese activities in Siam that would assist SEAC. Clearly it would be convenient for the SACSEA himself to sign it, but it would be 'a long business' to secure general Allied agreement to an appropriate document. Moreover, it would be difficult for Mountbatten, as representative of Commonwealth governments at war with Siam and of the US which was not, to sign an agreement covering all the points sought by Britain. A separate military agreement should therefore be signed. But the British government must be sure of a political agreement. In view of the time factor and security considerations, the report suggested that this should be purely British in the first instance, without excluding parallel agreements with other parties, including the dominions. The agreement would cover the proposed arrangements in general terms, while specifying that some issues, like rice, would be the subject of detailed special agreements, and others, like post-war military facilities, negotiated later. The first part of the agreement would cover the liquidation of the war and injury to Allied interests. But after that it should, as far as possible, take the character of a mutual aid agreement, and the liberation government should be encouraged to ask for advisers in the financial and economic field. In order to avoid criticism, the British government's agreement must be 'sufficiently wide to safeguard the immediate interests of our Allies'.

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But insofar as the provisions were aimed at securing a special position for the British Commonwealth in strategic and economic matters, they would 'meet with difficulties - perhaps more so from some of our Allies than from Siam itself, not only the US and China, but France also, given 'her present mood'. In some ways, it might be to British advantage 'to bring France in'. But France and Siam were antagonistic, and till recently the US had been 'very reserved on the whole question of France's return to Indo-China'. Insistence on French concurrence might embarrass Mountbatten's operations and complicate British policy in relation to Siam and the US. Perhaps it would be sufficient to notify France of the terms Britain proposed to present to Siam, and provide that the British agreement safeguarded French interests and ensured the return of the 1941 cessions. Bennett pointed out that the COS had revised their views on strategic requirements: it would be difficult for the US to take 'legitimate exception to what is now proposed'. But telegrams from Washington, proposing an American purchasing agency, showed that there would be much discussion on the rice question, both as to acquisition and distribution.115 The Minister of State, William Mabane, took the report to the Overseas Reconstruction Committee. Sir James Grigg, the Secretary for War, thought that as a whole the conditions proposed were 'far too lenient . . . In particular, we should press for a substantial increase in the amount of rice to be provided free by Siam. We should not let the attitude of the United States of America . . . influence us unduly . . .' Sir A. Salter, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, agreed: the prospective commerce with Siam was less significant than an increased contribution of rice. The Chancellor of the Exchequer favoured 'securing the largest possible contribution of rice', telling the US that Britain reserved its right to reparations, considering the cancellation of the Siamese sterling balance. The committee expressed general agreement.116 As Bennett was to write on 12 August, 'we have found ourselves overtaken by events so far as the formulation of our policy towards Siam is concerned'.117 These events included the fall of the Churchill government and a delay in considering the ORC report.118 Then came the surrender ofJapan which, as Dening had warned, would make it difficult to 'hold the situation in Siam'.119 T could not help feeling then, and indeed I still feel', Andrew Gilchrist wrote, 'that the Foreign Office were quite remarkably hoity-toity about Siam, considering how easy they had just found it to make friends with Italy . . . I could equally well cite Burma and Aung San . . ,'120 It was not merely, or even chiefly, the Foreign Office. At all events, the policy, inadequate as it still was, had finally emerged only in circumstances that demanded its further modification. The Thais were to make the most of them.

THE RETURN OF THE FRENCH TO INDO-CHINA

37

The return of the French to Indo-China

It was difficult to plan for the future of Britain's own territories. The attitude of the Americans had to be taken into account, and the attitudes of the inhabitants as they had developed during the interregnum had to be weighed against the wish to restore the links with Britain albeit in a new form. Anxieties over the Americans made for resentment and caution as well as for liberality. Knowledge about the inhabitants tended to be limited, even though contacts were developed by the SOE and by the military. The same factors applied in respect of Siam/Thailand. In addition the wish to restore Britain's position was accompanied by a desire to punish and also, not entirely compatibly, by the recognition that Britain's success elsewhere would in part depend on the availability of Siamese rice. Britain's policy was indeed regional in scope and intent, even though it emerged from various departments and had to reconcile divergent interests. But if that was the case in reference to the territories that had been British, or to an independent state that had a special relationship with the British, dealing with territories that had been in the hands of other European powers was a still more challenging task. Indeed it was not for the British alone to determine whether they should return at all, and in the case of French Indo-China that remained uncertain till quite late in the war. In general, Britain favoured the return of the French and the Dutch as complementing the reconstruction of Europe. In Southeast Asia, they hoped to make this compatible with their own regional approach, but their control over the planning and policy of their allies was limited. Moreover, the information available to the British or to the other colonial powers was still more limited than that about the British territories and Thailand. Generally the British tended to assume that their task, and that of SEAC, was simply to provide France and the Netherlands with the opportunity to return. Neither they, nor indeed the French or the Dutch, planned much beyond that. In the case of Indo-China, Britain certainly concentrated its effort on ensuring that the French returned, rather than on monitoring what they might do if they did. The attempts of the French to hold on to IndoChina had not helped their cause. To do so they had collaborated with Japan and undermined the security of their neighbours to the south. But the main obstacle to their return was the attitude of President Roosevelt. He believed that French rule should be ended, and Indo-China placed under a UN trusteeship, with a view to educating the people towards selfgovernment.121 The British recognised, as pre-war, the importance of American commitment to the defence of Southeast Asia. They also recognised that

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following the collapse of Singapore, the dominions would 'pay great attention to any views expressed by the United States, and . . . welcome eagerly anything that looks like American willingness to accept a strategic commitment in the Pacific - a development which we, too, desire'. Britain must thus consult the dominions in developing a policy. But that policy, the Foreign Office argued, must be based on the return of the French, provided that they agreed to afford any bases the UN needed. The Cabinet's Post-Hostilities Planning Committee had concluded early in 1944 'that our policy for Indo-China should be to encourage American co-operation in its defence, without prejudicing our friendly relations with France by laying ourselves open to the charge of conniving at an infringement of her sovereignty on the mainland of Asia'. The loss of Indo-China would be 'most strongly resented by the French, and would seriously endanger our post-war co-operation with them'. That was important in Europe, and the risk in Europe would be greater than the risk in the East. 'Geographically, a rearmed Germany would constitute a more immediate menace to the Heart of the Empire than a rearmed Japan to the security of the British Commonwealth and Empire in the Far East.'122 The Foreign Office believed that depriving France of its economic stake in Indo-China would weaken it 'severely'. Moreover, it would be 'passionately resented, with the result that the possibilities of friendly collaboration with France in post-war Europe would be jeopardised, and France would be encouraged to form a bloc, possibly with the Russians, opposed to an Anglo-American bloc. International control would not work. 'It would open the door to Chinese intrigues, and would provide possibilities for Japanese exploitation.' Control by another power the Foreign Office also ruled out. Neither we nor the Dutch would want to take this on. The Russians are unlikely to be interested. Chinese control would be worse than international control. American control might appeal to Australia and New Zealand. It would have the advantage of making it harder for the Americans to point their fingers at our colonies . . . But the whole American tradition makes it extremely unlikely that they would want to take on any such commitments.123 The liberation of France, and the growing connexions between the Free French and Indo-China, prompted the Japanese to terminate French control in Indo-China in March 1945. At the same time, as elsewhere, they hoped to set up barriers to the Allied return in the form of indigenous governments. Over Indo-China they were divided, and their decision was not made easier by the legacy of the French and divisions among the Vietnamese. France had been unwilling to deal with

THE RETURN OF THE FRENCH TO INDO-CHINA

39

moderates, and that had helped to tie the nationalist cause to the communist cause. With the communists, Japan could have nothing to do, but they were able to strengthen themselves in the countryside. The Japanese did not take up the cause of the Nguyen pretender Cuong De. The emperor Bao Dai's chances were limited by the attitude of Ngo Dinh Diem. In the event, the new government was entrusted to the historian Tran Trong Kim. Moreover, Cochin-China was kept apart. At Yalta Roosevelt had continued to express his opposition to the return of the French to Indo-China. The President told Stalin that France had done nothing for the Indochinese and that he had a trusteeship in mind. 'He added that the British did not approve of this idea as they wished to give it back to the French since they feared the implications of a trusteeship as it might affect Burma.' Stalin 'remarked that the British had lost Burma once through reliance on Indochina, and it was not his opinion that Britain was a sure country to protect this area.'124 'Stalin liked the idea. China liked the idea. The British don't like it. It might bust up their empire, because if the Indo-Chinese were to work together and eventually get their independence, the Burmese might do the same thing to England . . . Better to keep quiet just now.'125 'We want to see French Indo-China restored to France', Bennett indeed wrote, 'not merely as part of our general policy of building up a France friendly to us, but in the interests of stability in the Far East. The present uncertainty is not only dangerous in itself but casts doubt on the future of other territories awaiting liberation, including our own.'126 With Roosevelt's death, however, the American challenge vanished. Secretary Stettinius made it clear to Georges Bidault at San Francisco in May that 'the record was entirely innocent of any official statement of this government questioning, even by implication, French sovereignty over Indochina but that certain elements of American public opinion condemned French policies and practices in Indochina'.127 While it was now clear that the French would return, the policy the French had announced hardly accorded with the situation in Vietnam. Its concepts were vaguely expressed, and while vagueness can permit flexibility, it can also permit rigidity. 'The Indochinese Federation shall form with France and the other parts of the [French] community a "French Union", the interests of which abroad shall be represented by France', the French provisional government declared on 24 March. 'Indochina shall enjoy within that union, liberty of its own.' Indo-China would have its own federal government, with responsible Indochinese and French ministers, a Council of State, and an elected assembly. It would be comprised of 'five countries', each to keep its own character.128 De Gaulle's aim, it has been argued, was to grant independence. To be

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able to grant it, however, French authority had first to be restored.129 The view was not unlike Churchill's in respect of Burma. It was still more unrealistic. Cooperation with the Dutch

The Dutch had rather earlier seen fit to announce a new future for their empire that was, though intended to 'counter American attitudes toward colonialism',130 no more definite than that of the French. This had been given expression by a broadcast by Queen Wilhelmina in December 1942.131 Dr H. J. van Mook, Minister for the Colonies, had spoken to American journalists about it beforehand. He envisaged a house of representatives with a large majority of Indonesian members, in part elected by 'citizens of sufficient education and understanding; in part appointed so as to ensure representation of cultural and economic [ethnic?] minorities and backward regions'; the Governor-General, possibly with a 'more restricted position than at present'; and a Council of the Indies, advising Ministry and the Governor-General. External affairs, general defence, and international economic relations would be probably left to the kingdom as a whole, but in that the share for the Netherlands and the Indies would be 'more or less equivalent'.132 Van Mook had outlined the speech to his British counterpart, Lord Cranborne, as early as June 1942. He and some of his colleagues, he said, had 'some kind of federation' in mind. 'There would be a Netherlands Government and a Government of the Netherlands East Indies, which would have an equal status, and above them, responsible for defence and foreign policy and matters of general interest, an Imperial Government.' He wanted his government to announce it 'at an early date', so as to give the people of the Indies 'some attractive alternative' to Japanese propaganda, and also to counter the propaganda in the US and in China 'to the effect that recent events had shown the Dutch - and the British not only to have been Imperialists, but bungling Imperialists at that, whose day was now over'. Van Mook evidently thought that, in the long view, the danger from the US and China was greater than that from Japan. At the peace conference, they would claim to have won the Pacific war and demand a say in the post-war set-up. He wanted to 'forestall their interference', and asked if Britain had formulated its policy. The Colonial Secretary said it had come to no definite conclusions. 'To announce a detailed programme of constitutional reform in our territories there seemed to me to be premature pending a settlement with the Chinese and the Americans as to how the status quo was to be maintained after the war.' Moreover, Britain's position rested in part on agreements with local rulers, now in enemy hands, and it would be

COOPERATION WITH THE DUTCH

41

difficult to make any announcement except after consultation. 'In general, of course our colonial policy had always aimed at gradually increasing the association of colonial peoples with the Government of their countries.' That policy would surely be continued, but it was less certain that the time had come for a general announcement to that effect.133 At the Foreign Office, J. Bromley thought it would be 'undesirable' for the Dutch to appear to be in advance of the British: 'our political warfare efforts would be rendered more difficult if we were faced with this fait accompli in the N. E. I. before we had come to any decision about the future status of our own territories. This status . . . will be affected by the manner in which the territories are recovered - i.e. by us alone or by an Anglo-American effort.' Only collaboration with the Americans would be able to provide security against a post-war revival of Japanese militarism, Sir John Brenan believed, and getting that collaboration was 'none too certain'. 'If, however, the Dutch regard the United States as an even greater danger than Japan, who do they imagine is going to guarantee their continued possession of rich territories which they are quite unable to protect themselves?' The Dutch, Roger Makins suggested, were 'not easily turned from their purpose': their plan seemed likely to be 'a sensible one'; and the British should formulate a general policy. Ashley Clarke agreed with Brenan: American interference could not be forestalled, particularly where recovery would be largely effected by American forces. A general policy was being formulated. In due course, it would be 'desirable to get as near to the Dutch as possible', and meanwhile it would be better that neither government made an announcement. 134 In fact the Dutch went ahead. The aim was to win American support for their return to the Indies at the end of the war. To that return the British were already pledged by undertakings given before the Pacific war.135 The Dutch continued, however, nervous about the Americans. Admiral Helfrich called on Halifax early in 1943, with the Dutch ambassador. He urged quicker and stronger action against Japan. It was evident however that one of the main motives in his mind was fear that if we finished first with Germany we and the Americans might be ready to negotiate a peace with Japan leaving her in possession of some of her illgotten gains in Netherlands East Indies. I told him this was just as inconceivable from our point of view as it was from the American.136 The Dutch ambassador remained anxious, though Halifax thought he tended 'to see ghosts behind the screen'. He was 'a good deal influenced . . . by the casual remarks the President has made from time to time about not giving Indo-China back to the French, and about the

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general American thought on the question of subject peoples, . . . in regard to which he thinks there is a great gap in public thought between Holland, for whom there is much sympathy, and the Netherlands East Indies, that are rather disjunct in thought from the sympathised-with Holland.' The ambassador argued 'that we might profitably work on the lines of getting our staffs to tie up with the American staffs certain postwar security plans in that area, based on the continuance of sovereignties as we at present know them.' Staffs he thought were 'more secure pegs on which to hang our hats' than the administration itself.137 At the Foreign Office Ashley Clarke recognised that US views could not be disregarded, 'since a satisfactory settlement in the Far East must in the nature of things depend on cooperation between ourselves and the US in a system of collective security'. The best approach was, 'without worrying too much about American proddings', to move ahead with planning the resumption of administration over the colonial territories, and for their development in the interests of the population, in the Dutch case through a partnership, in the British case through dominion status. 'Provided that we have something workable ready when the necessity arises and provided that we have given our objectives proper publicity in advance, . . . we shall encounter much less opposition from the US than we are in the present circumstances inclined to fear'. American public opinion might 'strain at the gnat of Hong Kong', but equally it might be 'prepared to swallow the camels of Burma, Malaya, N.E.I, and the rest'. Clarke recalled that before the war the Foreign Office had failed to convince the government as a whole 'that our natural allies in S.E.A. were the Dutch'. Events afforded a lesson. 'This would entail not only close contact on all planning for the future of our colonial territories but also the exercising of our influence to ensure that wherever Dutch territory is reoccupied civil affairs shall at once be put into the hands of the Dutch'.138 Nevile Butler, of the North American Department, agreed with Clarke. 'Dutch prestige stands much higher in the US than that of France; the Dutch are not considered immoral or decadent, and Queen Wilhelmina has addressed both Houses of Congress and earned general respect.' The Dutch were not thinking merely of restoring the status quo; if they gave 'reasonable attention to publicity in the US they should be able to get their case across'.139 A letter to Stanley at the Colonial Office took up Clarke's view: 'Our interest and our obligations alike demand that we should make common cause with the Dutch, who can be relied upon to prove sensible and enlightened partners.'140 Stanley replied early in 1944. In respect to British planning, he agreed 'that the right way to proceed is to get on with our own job without worrying too much about American proddings, and trust that the plans

THE LIBERATION OF THE PHILIPPINES

43

themselves will be a convincing demonstration of our regard for the interests of the territories themselves'. This he had been doing, and hence the paper on Malaya and Borneo just discussed in Cabinet. 'I have had to adopt rather cumbersome machinery. I have, however, a vivid recollection of a similar scheme for Burma, which had been carefully thought out both by Dorman-Smith and Leo Amery, being torpedoed in the Cabinet and I want to avoid the same fate for my planning.' Stanley added that the objective was not defined as 'dominion status', but selfgovernment within the empire. Many areas in the empire would 'never be suitable' for the former. 'Malaya and Borneo, with their appalling problems of mixed racial populations, are certainly not territories about which it would be wise to make rash promises about Dominion status.' Publicity, Stanley thought, had to be deferred until the general lines of the planning were clearer, and he had damped it down in view of Churchill's attitude on the Burma question. The question of facilities for the UN and of coordination of economic welfare were the kind of issues that a regional council might cover. As for cooperation with the Dutch, 'I can only say that both I and everyone in this office would welcome it to the fullest extent. We have always felt that the Dutch interests and ours are so much alike that we may prove very useful friends to each other in the future.'141 The emphasis on Anglo-Dutch solidarity recalled the nineteenth century. Indeed it was without a sense of the bitterness that the Dutch had often felt at their inferior position. That solidarity the Foreign Office had attempted to renew when the colonial powers were faced with the Japanese threat of 1941. To that Clarke alluded. No specific threat was now mentioned, and presumably the general question of security was in mind. The US was in mind as well. Its importance had been a factor in 1941: its lack of commitment and its decision to act had in fact determined the parameters of British policy. Now the two colonial powers also looked for US support: if not support, they sought complaisance. Joint planning might help to bring it about, and also judicious propaganda. Much of this was, however, to be aborted by the prompt end of the war. Subsequent events, furthermore, emphasised the differences between the British and the Dutch. New policies reacted on old jealousies. And the new policies were never identical. The British approach to Southeast Asia differed from the Dutch. Regionalism was difficult to pursue. The liberation of the Philippines Pre-war Britain and the colonial powers had recognised that American power might keep the Japanese out of Southeast Asia. Whether it would

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be interposed had remained uncertain. The colonial powers had made their calculations as best they could, the French compromising, the British seeking to limit Japanese penetration but unable to send adequate force, the Dutch the more dependent on them after the loss of their homeland. When the Americans acted, it was in such a way that the Japanese resorted to action rather than inaction. The invasion that ensued was a triumph. In seeking to re-establish their position, the colonial powers naturally had to take the US into account. It would bear a large role, if it was prepared to assume it, in maintaining future security. The colonial powers had again to work out how best to enlist American support, while yet preserving a role for themselves. In the war and in the immediate post-war period that provided a further argument for a more liberal colonial policy. It was also necessary to consider the role of China, historically a factor in Southeast Asia, now seen as an ally against Japan and, until the communists took over, befriended by the US. With the advent of the Cold War, the approach was to shift, and the advent of a communist regime in China led the US towards policies based less consistently on anti-colonialism than on anti-communism, and so still not coincident with those of Britain. Once the US had become a colonial power, its attitude to the Philippines had been an indicator of its attitude to the colonial framework. The depression induced it to set up a programme for granting the Philippines independence, with 1946 as the target date. It was a concept that other colonial powers found unwelcome. Making a country ready for independence took time: setting dates would only prompt a clamour for making them earlier. Indeed the Filipino leaders found the pre-independence Commonwealth phase difficult to manage. The Philippines Commonwealth enjoyed economic preferences. But could it prepare for independence while unable to conduct a foreign policy? The overthrow of US power in the Philippines, though less humiliating than the fall of Singapore, was accompanied, as MacArthur announced, by a promise to return. The Philippines, like Burma but unlike Malaya, was to be fought over a second time. The Americans, however, were more determined to stick to the independence programme, not less. Roosevelt had applied the Atlantic Charter to 'the whole world'.142 In a broadcast to the Philippines in August 1943, when it was assuming its role in the Japanese sphere, he insisted that 'the Republic of the Philippines will be established the moment the power of our Japanese enemy is destroyed'.143 It would be a sign of victory, a sign that the Americans kept their word. It would also be a sign for other colonial powers to read. The liberation of the Philippines would be welcomed, the British Foreign Office believed, by all Filipinos, except a handful of Quislings, 'some of whom frankly backed the wrong horse, many of whom will be

THE COORDINATION OF BRITISH POLICY

45

able to argue (and argue successfully) that their duty was to maintain orderly government of their own people, whether under American or Japanese authority'. The effects of their wartime experience were likely to be: 'a desire to align themselves closely with the "white bloc" - short of overt political domination'; readiness to accept American security requirements as the best guarantee against 'a further interruption of their placid existence'; a bid for continued preferential treatment, on the grounds of rehabilitation; and a desire to take part in political and economic world or regional organisations 'which may seem to provide guarantees of economic security against the day when American ties are finally severed'.144 'Independence or prosperity?' Senator Millard E. Tydings had thus put President Osmena's deputy 'on the spot', Sansom reported from Washington in March 1945. Did that mean the US would not grant the Philippines the preferences it had enjoyed? Pre-war it had been agreed that they would be gradually diminished, and there was some possibility that the economy would gradually adjust. Now, with the sugar refineries destroyed, American capital would not be forthcoming without being assured of the prospect of twenty years of good business. 'On the other hand, the Filipino statesmen and politicians who cry the loudest for complete independence realize that the Philippine economy in its present form is dependent upon American favours.' Without them the standard of living would fall and tax revenue collapse. Sansom found it 'hard to believe that the Administration and the public here, being so proud of their colonial record, will stand by and let the Islands fall into serious economic distress'. A graduated rise in duties was likely. Foulds, a Foreign Office man with Philippines experience, agreed. 'Every aspect of this problem has been argued merrily for the past twenty or thirty years and I fully expect that the argument will continue with undiminished vigour for the next twenty.'145 The coordination of British policy

British planning for the future of Southeast Asia had been coordinated only to a limited extent. Common ideas inspired it; and interdepartmental committees were set up. Boundaries between departments remained: consultation among departments was sometimes seen as an obstruction to an effective policy, in the case of Burma in respect of the Treasury, in the case of Siam of the Ministry of Food. In some sense that was consonant with the idea that each territory in the modern world, as in the colonial world, had in a general sense to look after itself. But it also meant that no one policy was pursued, but rather an aggregation of policies, towards any one country. Nor did it sufficiently allow for the regional element in the British approach. The regional commissions

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Britain had envisaged had threatened to be counter-productive or to be seen as a manifestation of British imperialism and they had not been set up. 146 But Britain failed to make even what it might have made of regionalism in its own policy. Policy-making was ultimately the responsibility of the Cabinet and its committees. But the former had many other tasks, and the latter themselves tended to be task- or area-specific. Some of the gaps were quickly pointed out: the feeding of Southeast Asia, disrupted by the war, had to be on a pan-Southeast Asian basis, even if the reconstruction of Malaya were primarily in mind; it would be disastrous if the return of the Allies was associated with post-war famine. The idea emerged that a man on the spot was needed. Whether coordination could be achieved in Southeast Asia when there was little in the metropolis was, however, doubtful. Moreover, even if no regional commission were set up, other colonial powers, the US, the nationalists, might still be suspicious of initiatives on the part of the British that extended beyond their own territories. The idea of an overall British authority for the Far East had been put forward during the crisis of 1941. Duff Cooper, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, had been sent out in July 1941 'to examine the present arrangements for consultation and communication between the various British authorities in that area, military, administrative and political, and to report to the War Cabinet how these arrangements can be made more effective'. The example of the Near East, already involved in war, was in mind: there Oliver Lyttelton had become Resident Minister, based in Cairo. Something of the sort, Duff Cooper concluded, would indeed be needed in the Far East if war broke out there. A separate ministry in London would be a solution valid only in the longer term, he thought. In the meantime, a Commissioner-General should prepare himself for the task of coordination that war would make essential and undertake measures of the kind that were already necessary. The Far East had changed and was changing very rapidly as a result of speedier communications and of the 'awakening' of Asian peoples, Duff Cooper wrote; but at the outbreak of the war in 1939, the affairs of the British Empire there were being conducted by machinery that has undergone no important change since the days of Queen Victoria. . . Two Ambassadors and one Minister reported to the Foreign Office on the affairs of Japan, China and Siam, while the same department was kept informed by the Consul-General of events passing in the Netherlands East Indies, in the Philippines and in French IndoChina. The Governors of the Straits Settlements and of Hong Kong reported to the Colonial Office. The Dominions Office was represented by High Commissioners in Australia and New Zealand and the recent bestowal upon Burma of a Secretary of State of her own brought the India Office into the picture . . . save for the fact that the Ministers

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responsible for the departments met weekly in Cabinet, no effort was made to co-ordinate the activities of the officials or the policies of the departments concerned.

A Commissioner-General could assist and advise the representatives of all the departments in the Far East; he could at times authorise action that might otherwise need to be referred home; he could arbitrate differences between the representatives of departments. He would keep in touch with the military authorities; he would furnish the War Cabinet 'with a complete picture of the whole situation in the Far East'; and he would keep the authorities in the Far East informed of the views and plans of the Cabinet. The title Duff Cooper proposed, 'CommissionerGeneral for the Far East', was 'a sufficiently vague and comprehensive term which can be made to cover any duties he may be called upon to perform. It has also the advantage of distinguishing him from High Commissioners, of whom there are many already.'147 The opening of the Pacific war anticipated the Cabinet's consideration of the report, and Duff Cooper was appointed Resident Minister in the Far East, charged with forming a War Council.148 At the Foreign Office, Bennett doubted if the plan would have worked in peacetime. 'The speeding up of communications to which the report refers inevitably tends to centralisation of responsibility in London, since it is there only that the relative importance of events can be properly judged.' But he thought there was 'clearly room for local centralisation and coordination in Singapore of a number of activities and a committee or council in Singapore on the lines of the Far Eastern Committee here might have many advantages in relieving London of a good deal of detail and presenting coordinated recommendations for consideration here'. A 'central political adviser' would be valuable in assisting and advising the representatives of all departments, 'assuming a certain degree of local responsibility', and settling differences among them.149 Five weeks after the capture of Rangoon, Bennett declared that overhauling the machinery for dealing with the Far East was 'an urgent necessity'. The war in Europe was over, the Coalition government had broken up, the machinery in the Foreign Office was 'quite inadequate', as it was interdepartmentally, too. There is still a tendency to watertight compartments. For instance, though we consult the India Office, the Burma Office and the Colonial Office on foreign affairs problems which may have repercussions in their spheres, the converse is not always true. Plans for the future of Burma, Malaya and Hong Kong are prepared without Foreign Office participation, though they may affect, and be affected by, developments in territories which are the concern of the Foreign Office.

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The problems of China, Japan and Southeast Asia would be immense, and affect relations with the Allies, with the other colonial powers, with Australia, New Zealand and India. But there was a danger that they would be dealt with 'from hand to mouth'. The interdepartmental Far Eastern Committee had been revived, but it had to be 'supplemented by some kind of planning machinery'. What should happen in the Far East? 'Suggestions have been made from time to time for the appointment of a Minister of State or a Minister Resident in the Far East.' They should be discussed, 'and we ought at all events to review the question of liaison with military commands in the Far East. . ,'150 Dening, then in London, attended a meeting chaired by Cadogan, which considered Bennett's memorandum on 19 June. He later expanded his views on the last question. The Political Adviser, he pointed out, was in practice regarded as a senior staff officer of the Supreme Commander, though he had independent cypher communication with the Foreign Office, to which he reported direct. He doubted if this situation should continue: a staff officer would be solely responsible to the Supreme Commander, while the Foreign Office should have a representative in Southeast Asia responsible to the Secretary of State. Moreover matters arose of primary concern to other departments. 'In the case of Burma there is at any rate the advantage of a civil government in being (even though inconveniently situated [in India]), but in the case of Malaya there is no similar situation, with the result that the nearest consultative authority is the Colonial Office in London. But no direct channel of communication exists with that authority.' As a result, political questions were referred to the Chiefs of Staff, who then referred them to the departments in London, a process likely to become 'increasingly irksome' as more territories were liberated. Moreover, SEAC was an Allied command, and its official telegrams were seen by American officers: where British and American opinion differed on political questions, it was 'an embarrassment to an allied staff to have to deal with them, and they should more properly be handled through a political channel. . .' One alternative was to increase the authority of the Political Adviser and establish him outside the HQ. The other was, as in the other theatres of war, to appoint a Minister of State for Southeast Asia. With Burma mostly recovered, and other areas likely to be recovered within the next year, SEAC would face a host of political problems affecting the empire and relations with other countries. Before the war British territories east of Suez 'tended to be governed largely on parochial lines'. India, Ceylon, Burma and Malaya were 'largely unfamiliar with each other's problems', and they were still less familiar with those of the non-British territories. That such a state of affairs was both strategically and politically undesirable was proved by subsequent events when Japan delivered her attack. Today

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there is a danger that, with the preoccupations of reconstruction and rehabilitation and the major political problems affecting the internal structure of India, Burma, Ceylon and Malaya, we shall drift once more into the same position as we were before the outbreak of hostilities.

At least until conditions were stabilised, there was 'an imperative need . . . for the appointment of a central authority who can report direct to the Cabinet and whose task would be to coordinate the views and the needs of all the British territories involved and to relate these with developments in other non-British territories as the war develops against Japan'. This pointed to the establishment of a Minister of State in Southeast Asia as in the Middle East and the Mediterranean.151 Dening referred to Duff Cooper's report and Bennett thought some of his earlier objections to that still applied: a better picture of the whole situation could be formed in London than in Randy or Singapore. 'But the existence of a Political Adviser of high standing to ensure the local centralisation and co-ordination of matters affecting more than one department of H.M.G., and to relieve the Supreme Commander of a great deal of non-military work, with which the latter ought not to be burdened, would obviously be a good thing.' The appointment of a Minister of State or a High Commissioner seemed to be 'the right solution, provided that he is not expected to do too much or to cover too big an area'. Bennett's colleague, Richard Allen, thought the appointment of a minister premature, but saw some advantages in detaching the Political Adviser from SACSEA's staff. Further conversation with Dening stressed this point: it would be a first step towards a wider political organisation under a Minister of State, to be set up on the capture of Singapore.152 The discussion was clearly influenced by concern about Mountbatten's political interests. Returning from a trip to India and Ceylon, Sir Harold MacMichael, earmarked for a mission to Malaya, had told officials at the Colonial Office that the idea of a resident minister, 'partly but not entirely owing to recollections of previous experience', would be unpopular. Sir Philip Joubert, on the other hand, thought it 'an urgent necessity': the Supreme Commander's naval training did not fit him to take political decisions, but he was 'somewhat ready to regard himself as a political wizard', and in the case of Burma, 'had shown an increasing tendency to take political decisions of a sweeping and perilous nature'. Dening bore out Joubert's account, but also bore out what MacMichael said 'about the probable unpopularity in S.E.A.C. of the appointment of a Resident Minister . . . The one thing which would endear him personally to the Supreme Commander . . . would be the thought that a Resident Minister might come and take his place . . .'153 When consulted by the Foreign Office, Gent not surprisingly favoured detaching the Political Adviser from Mountbatten's staff. Someone of

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greater weight and experience than Dening should be appointed, Gent believed, but he did not favour the appointment of a Resident Minister at least at this juncture. He pointed out that the Colonial Office planned to appoint a Governor-General with direct powers over the British authorities in Malaya, Singapore, North Borneo and Sarawak. Possibly there would be no need for a Resident Minister; equally possibly 'a detached Political Adviser' might continue with the Governor-General after SEAC had ceased to exist as an Allied military command.154 Mountbatten had liked the idea of a Governor-General and pointed to the continued need for a Supreme Commander; but declared that it was impossible to have both a Governor and a Governor-General in Singapore. 'It is the "Destroyer Commander" again', Gent exclaimed. Downgrading the Singapore post would increase resentment at the break-up of the Straits Settlements.155 Perhaps, Sir George Gater, the Permanent Under-Secretary, surmised, the Colonial Office could improve on the new title. The Governor-General would be 'rather more in the position of a Resident Minister . . . a co-ordinator-in chief for the whole area . . .' H. T. Bourdillon also wondered 'whether the conception at the back of our minds is not really that of a Resident Minister'. John Paskin thought that, if a Resident Minister were appointed during the anticipated interim period of military government, it might be better to build on that foundation than abolish it and set up a Governor-General when civil government was re-established.156 The Colonial Secretary in the new Labour government, George Hall, followed Gent's line. The Adviser should be separated from SEAC, but no more should be done. He planned to get Cabinet confirmation of the plans provisionally approved by the Churchill Coalition the year before. 'He thought that if there should prove to be need for a stronger political representation in South East Asia Command it could be met by the appointment of a Governor-General or at any rate by designating the person who would be appointed Governor-General at the end of the military period so that he could be associated with the Supreme Commander.'157 The Labour government indeed confirmed the plans for Malaya, though modifying those for Sarawak. But much else was changed. The boundaries of SEAC had been expanded in July. Still more dramatically, and before the implications of that had been worked out, the war had been brought to an unexpectedly prompt end in August by the dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the Japanese surrender. The plans that had been made had not envisaged this. Nor were the forces available to re-occupy the territories still in Japanese hands.

CHAPTER 2

Southeast Asia after the Japanese Surrender, 1945-1946

The Third Force concept

The war in Europe had terminated on 8 May 1945 and the Allies were now free to devote their attention to their second priority, the war in Asia. As a result of Enigma, the war in Europe had been terminated earlier than might have been expected, and indeed it had been terminated more completely, since in an extended war Germany might have developed more potent weapons. It still required a major invasion of the Continent by the Western allies and an invasion of Germany and the Balkans by the Soviet Union. The war against Japan, fought in the event more from the Pacific than from China and the mainland than had been anticipated, was terminated without an invasion of Japan itself. Instead victory was brought by the new weapons which the Allies had developed. The Japanese capitulated after Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In the following months the focus of the Allies was still largely upon Europe. The aims of the Soviet Union were hard to determine. Was it providing for its security? Was it aiming at revolution elsewhere in Europe? Was it on the way to world revolution? Its focus, at least for the present, was certainly on Europe, like that of the other victors. But those who shared victory did not share a vision of the future. If, however, Russia's policy was unclear, so, too, was that of the US. That meant that Britain's policy, too, had to be cautious. Bevin thus 'proposed to defer any active steps towards the conclusion of a "Western Group" until he had had more time to consider possible Russian reactions'.1 That did not provide the opportunity for the Third Force approach that some envisaged, and Sir Orme Sargent advocated. The right policy in his view was collaboration with France, 'with a view to our two countries establishing themselves politically as the leaders of all the 51

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Western European Powers and morally as the standard-bearers of European civilisation'.2 Even he saw this policy as a means to securing the respect of both the US and the Soviet Union, and thus making them more likely to 'collaborate with us than they are at present'.3 The differences among British policy-makers were, and remained, differences of emphasis, varying with personality, but still more with circumstances. In March 1946 the ex-Prime Minister used a famous phrase. No one knew, Churchill declared at Fulton, what the Soviet Union intended to do, nor what the limits were to its 'expansive or proselytizing tendencies'. An 'iron curtain had descended across the continent'. The proper response was 'a special relationship between the U.S. and the British Commonwealth and Empire'.4 The speech embarrassed Bevin, and 'in no way served his purposes'.5 In Moscow Frank Roberts shared the views of his American colleague, George Kennan, put forward in an 8,000-word telegram, 'neatly divided, like an eighteenth-century Protestant sermon, into five parts'.6 For Kennan Soviet policy continued Russian nationalism, 'a centuries old movement in which conceptions of offense and defense are inextricably confused'.7 Britain should never 'rattle the sabre', Roberts thought. But it should cherish its relationship with the dominions, foster the 'natural community of interests' between itself and the democracies of western Europe, and support its friends and allies in the Middle East. T cannot lay too much emphasis upon maintaining our special relationship with America in a form consistent with friendship with the Soviet Union. Whatever private differences may arise between us, America and the British Commonwealth must remain firm friends in the eyes of the Soviet Union, otherwise she may succumb to dangerous temptations.'8 The priority put upon Europe naturally affected the policies of the major powers towards Southeast Asia. They were affected, too, by the fact that two of the territories there belonged to European states that had been overcome by the Germans. Those states had their policies, too. For both the recovery of empire was essential. For the Dutch, it was seen as a matter of survival; for the French, it was seen as a matter of prestige. It also affected, and was affected by, the 'Third Force' concept. British officials in London had argued that great-power collaboration could best be effected there. They had been less certain about the means of effecting collaboration in Southeast Asia. Militarily there was SEAC, set up in October 1943, but its frontiers did not include all the area. SEAC, too, was itself an Allied, not a merely British command. The British forces came predominantly from India, not from Britain. The Supreme Allied Commander South East Asia saw himself as having a political role, and not merely because he had a military one. The relationships between him and the departments responsible for British

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territories were both tenuous and complex, pursued through his political adviser, Esler Dening, through civil affairs authorities preparing for the phase of interim military administration, through the Governor of Burma and the putative authorities for the Netherlands Indies and French Indo-China, through the COS and the Cabinet and its Defence Committee. Political and military factors both constrained Mountbatten and enabled him to take initiatives. The lack of coordination amongst all those involved allowed them, even required them. At Potsdam the Allies had re-determined the boundaries of SEAC. Northern Indo-China remained in the China theatre. Borneo and eastern Indonesia would be transferred to SEAC, though placed under Australian command. The responsibilities of SEAC, which had just liberated Burma, were thus dramatically widened, though they still did not include the whole area. Its resources were spread thin. Within a few weeks, moreover, the war ended. The responsibilities had now to be carried out with insufficient force, insufficient coordination, insufficient preparation, based either on plans developed in a different context, or on plans yet to be finalised, or on directives insufficiently thought through. There was room for the play of personality and also of preconception and prejudice. Now, too, the issue was occupation, not fighting the Japanese, though the same boundaries were adopted.9 The suddenness of the capitulation, though averting the need for an invasion of Japan, upset such calculations as had been made about Southeast Asia. It was not merely that the plans had been conceived in the context of a war of liberation or re-conquest that was not now to take place. There was an interregnum, extended indeed by MacArthur's insistence that a formal capitulation should precede further action.10 In the course of the interregnum, Southeast Asian peoples and politicians seized their opportunities, tempering their action by their understanding, greater or less, of the situation among the Allies. Were Allied forces able, equipped, prepared to deal with them? The attitude of the Japanese troops still in the field was also in question. Would they, after all, surrender? Would they help the Asian peoples? How, more generally, should the Allies deal with a post-war Southeast Asia - short of food, but with arms a-plenty, witness of the destruction of European empire, and politically astir - that was the very reverse of pre-war? 'It never entered our heads that there would be a problem caused from any other source than the Japanese.'11 What Britain was able to do in Southeast Asia would be affected, too, by the attitude of the dominions. India, though only on the road to that status, would be a factor, just because of that and because of its provision of troops. Australia, a dominion dissatisfied with the measure of security that the imperial relationship had afforded, developed an attitude and

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a policy to Southeast Asia that sought to take account of Indonesian nationalism, though it was less sympathetic to the Burmans and the Thais. At the end of 1945 the Civil Planning Unit endeavoured to set out Britain's interests in the Far East for a projected conference of British representatives there on the model of the Middle East conference in the summer of 1945. In China and Japan, it argued, the US would play the principal part for the next few years. Britain's own focus must be south of the Tropic of Cancer. The 'most important and most difficult problem' was political advancement. 'We have not only to decide the proper tempo for political advancement, but also to convince the peoples concerned and the world at large that we are not yielding step by step to pressure, but are sincerely following out an enlightened policy.' The other European powers were confronted by 'similar problems'. There was 'a strong moral obligation' to restore their sovereignty. In the present situation it is difficult to say more than that it is in our overriding interest to see the establishment of just and stable systems of Government wherever possible in the Far East, and that in South-East Asia especially it is unlikely that this objective can be attained without our continuing to play a leading part in the settlement of difficulties between the native peoples and our Allies.

That would have the support of Australia and New Zealand, 'who have an interest in the stability of conditions in French Indo-China and the Netherlands East Indies'.12 The remarks of Vyshinsky at the session of the Security Council held in London early in 1946 alarmed Pierson Dixon, Principal Private Secretary to the Foreign Secretary. 'Hardly any doubt any longer that Russia is intent on the destruction of the British Empire. This is definitely a claim to a stake in South-east Asia and the area of the British and Dutch.'13 In fact the main focus of the Russians was still on Europe. The hopes they attached to the fortunes of the communist parties there limited the support they tendered to the revolutionary movements in the colonies. The Special Commissioner

The Japanese surrender, Sir Frederick Bovenschen of the War Office argued, changed the whole context of the discussion on coordination: it seems to me that, as events have developed in the last few days, the whole tendency will be to bring back the British territories comprised within S.EA.C's new boundaries under the direct control of the appropriate

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Whitehall Departments at the earliest possible time; and as to the territories within S.EA.C's boundaries, matters pertaining to them will, I take it, continue to be a Foreign Office responsibility.14

The changes Bovenschen pointed out did not, however, quite destroy all the Foreign Office's arguments for coordination: 'the mere demise of South East Asia Command and the resumption by the former authorities of the administration in British and other territories in S.E. Asia', Wilson-Young wrote, 'in no way invalidates the suggestion that some form of co-ordinating British authority is desirable'.15 Another route to that objective was explored. The Japanese surrender and early re-occupation by the Allies would, as Dening pointed out, produce appalling supply problems, to deal with which neither the military machine nor the returning civil governments were likely to have adequate resources. 'If we are prevented by Japanese surrender from fighting battles for the recovery of the S.E.A.C. area, then . . . it is of paramount political importance that we should make the best possible showing in our re-occupation of territories which the Japanese have overrun.' Nor were the British territories alone involved. By the creation of the South East Asia Command, which is predominantly British, we assumed responsibility for the areas contained within its boundaries. This is all to the good provided we discharge that responsibility. If we do, then we stand a fair chance of restoring British prestige in a part of the world where it had sunk to a very low ebb. If we do not, then I should expect that, as the years roll on, the peoples of the Far East will tend to look less and less to Britain and more and more to any Power which is in a position to afford them strategic, political and economic security. This will affect our relations with other European Powers with possessions in the Far East; it will loosen our ties with Australia and New Zealand and affect our relations with China and the United States . . ,16

Some in SEAC hoped that it would itself be given the task of promoting rehabilitation: 'we . . . have to hand at a critical moment an agency which could, if so instructed, play a great hand and which has the resources necessary for the purpose.' Rehabilitation would 'redound to the great credit of the British Empire', win the support of the local inhabitants, and secure goods, including tin and rubber, that would 'result in a valuable accretion to our dollar resources'.17 Bennett, who had been 'looking for a peg' upon which to hang further consideration of coordination in Southeast Asia, thought that this was 'the germ of a good idea'. Mountbatten did not like the notion of a minister of state, 'doubtless because he prefers to be supreme in his own command. On the other hand, Admiral Mountbatten's incursions into political matters have sometimes been precipitate and he does not

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seem to take the advice of his subordinates easily.' Appointing a minister or a high-powered civil adviser would mean friction: there was therefore much to be said for having Mountbatten in charge, 'and obviously there is much in favour of harnessing our armed forces to the task of reconstruction'. But would Mountbatten stay? Perhaps the best thing would be to make a start and give him a council of political, economic and financial advisers who, if need be, could later be switched to the service of a minister of state or some equivalent. 'If the scheme were properly handled S.E.A.C. might become the nucleus for the consultative regional commission in South East Asia which has long been one of our tentative objectives. But if this objective is to be attained due regard will have to be paid to the susceptibilities of the foreign countries concerned.' The scheme might appear to be an attempt to fasten Mountbatten's current control over Netherlands India and French Indo-China and revive American suspicions of Britain's policy towards Siam. Initially it could apply fully only to British territories. 'One would hope, however, that if the scheme looked like being a going concern the Dutch, the French and the Siamese would be encouraged to seek further participation in their own interests.'18 In the meantime, Dening had himself revived the idea of coordination. He did not envisage a reconstruction role for SEAC: that was the task of civil governments which would return sooner than originally expected. Politically we may be sure that though the Netherlands East Indies and French Indo-China will welcome our assistance in securing control, they will wish to resume direct government as soon as possible. Having shown the flag in the first instance, we should I think be unwise to oppose their wishes, the more so as we should avoid becoming involved in the political agitations which may well manifest themselves amongst the native populations of these areas.. .

Civil government should be restored as soon as possible in British territories, too, in Malaya as in Burma. But some organisation should, I think, be considered, which will preserve the unity of purpose engendered by the war. Regional economy and regional security are, at any rate, essentials, and the more we can break down political barriers at this stage the better . . . it will be only too easy, if we do nothing now, to drift back to the old ways. They may have been all right for their day, but that time is past.19

While Dening foresaw local opposition to the Dutch and the French, he did not foresee its scale. The problems SEAC had to face, particularly in Java and Indo-China, prompted Bennett again to suggest providing it

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with 'a panel of experts, on political, financial, economic and supply questions who can coordinate the needs of the whole area'. Nominally they should be members of SACSEA's staff, but they should have a responsibility to their departments in the UK. 'It is perhaps desirable that there should be a Chief Adviser responsible to London . . .' Sargent thought the Foreign Office had been 'somewhat overtaken by events': the reorganisation was 'definitely overdue'. He himself favoured a minister of state. 'I am strongly in favour of quick action', Bevin wrote. 'Should Australia and New Zealand be brought in?' He wanted the Prime Minister to study the matter with other ministers pending his return to London.20 Attlee called a special ministerial meeting, including George Hall, with Sir Edward Bridges of the Treasury, and also Sargent and Bennett in attendance. It was agreed 'that the machinery for dealing with political matters in S.E.A.C. needed strengthening urgently'. Objections to the appointment of a Minister Resident would not apply to the appointment of an official of high standing . . . directly responsible to the Foreign Secretary. Such an official, whose rank and status would be ambassadorial, would deal primarily with political questions in the non-British territories in the area . . . But he could also achieve a considerable measure of co-ordination by consultation with, e.g. the Viceroy, the Governor of Burma and, eventually, the Governors of other British territories. Economic and supply matters, it was recognised, needed coordinating machinery, but whether this should be under the supervision of the high official proposed was 'left over for discussion'. This question, and the title and duties of the official, the Foreign Secretary was to consider.21 The title 'Commissioner General', which had been suggested, sounded well, Bennett thought, but might arouse foreign suspicion. The main question was whether the 'Ambassador at large' was only to coordinate foreign affairs questions in Southeast Asia, or to be given a wider responsibility.22 The Dominions Office had pointed to the interest in the area of Australia and to a less extent New Zealand: those countries might find it convenient 'that there should be some kind of central coordinating authority there', to which they might appoint liaison officers.23 The Burma Office assumed the appointment would not interfere with the responsibility of the Governor to the Secretary of State.24 The Colonial Office, of course, wanted the unrest in Java settled as soon as possible because of its effect on Malaya, with, for the same reason, as little British involvement as possible. It favoured the appointment of a political expert of ambassadorial rank, responsible to the Foreign Secretary, to guide the Supreme Commander, but only 'for so long as is

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justified by the emergency conditions of our foreign relations in the S.E.A.C. area'. 25 A draft directive was circulated by the Foreign Office. At the Colonial Office A. N. Galsworthy thought that the official's role in advising on the conduct of foreign affairs was satisfactorily defined. But the instruction that he was 'to encourage and promote general political and economic co-ordination within the area' seemed to encroach on the role of the Governor-General. 26 A meeting of officials, chaired by Bridges, discussed the draft on 19 November. For title it favoured 'Special Commissioner responsible to the Foreign Secretary in South East Asia'.27 A further meeting of officials, chaired this time by Norman Brook of the Cabinet Office, was held on 18 December 'to consider whether it was desirable to set up machinery for dealing with economic questions of a regional character'. Perhaps the best course, the chairman suggested, was to ask the Special Commissioner himself to report. The meeting agreed. 28 The Colonial Office was concerned about this development: 'if we are not very careful, we shall be landed with half-baked proposals for a sort of Regional Commission of a thoroughly unsatisfactory kind', wrote K. E. Robinson. Regionalism would certainly be used, not only by the Americans but also by the two Pacific Dominions and particularly Australia, to undermine the position of the Colonial Powers. This would be powerfully assisted by China and probably India, not to mention Russia. The prospects of any real regional co-operation in such circumstances are remote: the French have made it very clear to us that they are deeply suspicious of all these proposals for regional co-operation precisely because they fear that they would be employed by nonColonial Powers in this way. And, once the short-period difficulties of supply were over, 'it would be extremely difficult to draw any clear line to demarcate the field of an "economic" organisation . . .'29 Sir George Gater tried too. 'There are, I think, good prospects of our being able to work out appropriate ad hoc collaboration with the French and indeed with the other Colonial powers', but the inclusion of noncolonial powers would be 'fraught with very great difficulty'. Britain's relations with the Dutch would be 'very uneasy' for some time, while the French were suspicious of foreign intervention. If proposals for a regional commission became public, they would have Tittle chance of survival'.30 Bennett found the Colonial Office 'very obstructive'. Its fears about regional commissions might have 'some substance', but it offered no argument against asking the Special Commissioner to consider the question of regional cooperation in economic matters. 31

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The Colonial Office had continued to discuss the title and functions of its projected Governor-General. W. B. L. Monson puzzled over the former. 'We really want... to invent a term covering all the British "possessions" in South East Asia . . . The best I can think of at the moment is Governor-General of British Malaysia.'32 But the term Governor-General was at issue, too. Ralph Hone, CCAO, thought it a misnomer, as it implied governing functions which the official would not have: 'High Commissioner' would be better. The title might also 'lead to friction particularly with the Governor of Singapore and to misunderstandings in the minds of the people'.33 Gent and Gater resolved to stick to the concept of a Governor-General, though the latter thought the title 'not. . . very satisfactory'.34 After discussions with SAC, Dening and Sir Harold MacMichael back in the East, however, Hone turned against the whole idea. There should be a British Supreme Command post-SEAC and a corresponding civilian authority, but no Governor-General. Such would mean two civilian authorities in Singapore; interterritorial resentment; tension with the Governor; 'appointment of a Governor-General would be felt strongly by Sultans and people of Peninsula as a breach of promise in connection with Sir Harold MacMichael's Mission and separation of Singapore from Peninsula.' Better a governors' conference, presided over on occasion by the Commissioner-General Dening proposed.35 His functions would be 'those of an umpire, a co-ordinator and perhaps an adjudicator rather than of an executive officer'. He would preside over regional conferences, of governors only, or of governors and representatives in foreign territories, and his authority would derive from the Cabinet, not from any department. The title of High Commissioner was 'considered to be open to serious objection but that of Commissioner-General might conceivably be considered suitable . . .'36 'I feel very strongly', Robinson declared, 'that there will be a first class mess if H.M.G. persist in the creation both of a Governor-General, responsible to the S. of S. for the Colonies, and a Commissioner-General or Special Commissioner, responsible to the S. of S. for Foreign Affairs . . .'37 Dening also felt that 'it would be wrong to have two such high officials in the same area. Objection from our point of view to GovernorGeneral is that he would not deal with foreign territories, that he would presumably be a Colonial Office official responsible to one Department of State only and that his mind would naturally be influenced towards colonial problems only as opposed to problems of the whole area of South East Asia.'38 But Bennett thought Dening's proposals for a Commissioner-General 'much too wide', and the concept of a Special Commissioner 'less ambitious but more likely to be immediately practicable'. A Governor-General and a Special Commissioner of the type

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contemplated could be stationed in the same place; their areas and their functions would differ.39 Having both officials was not really the result of interdepartmental jealousy. The departments had different tasks. The CO thought an FO appointment might interfere with its Governor-General's role and invite a prying regionalism back into colonial government. But a GovernorGeneral could not do the Foreign Office tasks, for others would infer colonialism. The argument was not one of incompetence but of competencies; more significantly it pointed to difficulties in the advancement of Britain's policy for the region. The British wanted to guide others, but did not want others' guidance. During January the government became intensely concerned about world food supplies and feared that the return of the Western powers to the East would be associated with, and endangered by, the advent of famine. That gave a new urgency to the question of rice supply and distribution in Southeast Asia. The Foreign Office saw this as a decisive argument for their Special Commissioner, and Bevin cabled Lord Killearn in Cairo. We have been considering for some time the appointment of a person who can work with and co-ordinate the efforts of the Governors and other agents in that area. This has now become accentuated because the food situation as revealed by the Combined Board shows that unless we are very careful we shall get famine and political difficulties arising. In discussing the matter with the Prime Minister, and after my experience of the help that you were able to give me over the Middle East, I thought you were the right person to undertake this duty . . . The position was 'really acute' and it was a two-year job.40 Bevin personally urged Killearn to accept. Tt was a great opportunity to serve Gt. Britain and world peace.'41 The Cabinet took note of the proposal with approval.42 The matter was urgent, but the Foreign Office was using it at least to experiment with their proposal. A two-year limit was mentioned, though the intent, according to R. H. S. Allen, was to keep it going after the food crisis had been surmounted.43 Urgency also suggested the need for further coordination in London itself, at least in respect of rice supply. Executive action would fall on the Ministries of Food and Supply and the Board of Trade, but a coordinating committee was needed, presided over by an energetic junior minister, such as Lord Nathan, Under-Secretary at the War Office.44 At the Cabinet meeting of 18 February, moreover, the Prime Minister enjoined departmental cooperation with Lord Killearn.45 The latter also used his diplomatic talent in London before leaving: he appreciated, he

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said, 'the position of the Governors and Heads of Missions with whom he would be extremely careful not to interfere in any way in the various Colonial territories . . .'46 In Southeast Asia Killearn not only made 'a characteristically vigorous and satisfactory start' on the food question:47 he also worked out with Mountbatten a draft on coordination in Southeast Asia, developed after discussion with the British representatives at a food conference he held in Singapore in April.48 The draft stressed that the region of the wartime SEAC would 'continue to be a bastion of vital political strategic and economic importance to the Commonwealth'. British interests might be threatened by a collapse of law and order in any given area; an 'increased revival of trouble' in Netherlands India; 'Difficulties with Nationalist movements'; 'Trouble with the inhabitants of the South East Asia area [of] Chinese race. (If the general relations of His Majesty's Government with China become bad and still more if (however remote the prospect) China and the Soviet Union were working together against us, the threat might become extremely serious).' But, even if these threats did not materialise, a coordinated approach to the problems of the region could be advantageous to the prosperity and development of the Commonwealth and the Allied nations. Political, strategic and economic interests were 'interlocking . . . What happens in one part of the area is of interest to all other parts of the area. A reversion to pre-war methods of handling these problems in water-tight compartments and penny packets would be a retrogressive step . . .' The appointment of the Special Commissioner was a 'first step' in coordination. The immediate recommendations were for periodical meetings, chaired by the Special Commissioner, to discuss problems of concern to all British representatives in the area, on occasion with foreign representatives also present, and for improved communication among British representatives and between them and London. In London, coordination might be effected by existing machinery. 'Alternatively it might be effected either by enlarging the scope of Nathan Committee or by setting up some other machinery . . ,'49 If the Colonial Office were apprehensive of the Foreign Office's regional initiatives, it was also true that the Foreign Office was more cautious than the dominion governments. To some extent the appointment of the Special Commissioner became a means of handling them, too. This was shown at the prime ministers' meeting in May, when their pressure also helped to bring the Colonial Secretary round. Evatt suggested a regional organisation for the South Seas and Southwest Pacific.50 'The line taken by our Ministers . . . was that while it would certainly in the future be desirable to have a regional commission of the

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same type in South East Asia, it was doubtful whether the time was ripe for the formal constitution of such a body at present, in view of the disturbed and abnormal conditions in the area.' The Colonial Secretary added that Killearn's organisation 'might provide the nucleus round which a more formal organisation - on the lines of a regional commission - could later develop'. Australia and New Zealand were invited to attach liaison officers to Killearn, and the former agreed to do so.51 Bevin described Killearn's headquarters as 'the focus round which the United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand and India could build up the development of the whole area . . ,'52 The discussion had taken place against a background, not only of food shortage, but of rising political tension almost everywhere in Southeast Asia. Dorman-Smith and the Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League Churchill had initially been anxious to avoid a struggle in the jungles of Burma, but a Sumatra-Malaya expedition proved impractical, and the forces in Burma began to enjoy success. Their activities raised issues that both indicated the nature of British policies and affected their subsequent development elsewhere. The turning of the tide prompted the Thakin leaders to promote guerrilla activities and uprisings by the Burma Defence Army (BDA). With them, Mountbatten decided to collaborate for military, but also for political, reasons. On 28 March he said 'that it was his policy to return to Burma on a pacific and friendly basis. We were liberating British subjects from the Japanese and he had no intention of carrying out any persecution, mass trials or arrests . . .'53 The BDA uprising, just begun, was 'a welcome bonus' in his operations which might speed the capture of Rangoon 'since the areas affected are in the south'. There was some danger that the recognition his policy involved would 'give offence to the more respectable part of the population'. But it involved 'the active politically conscious and organised elements in the country - those in fact who are in a position to give trouble or not to give it depending on our present decision.' Aung San, the commander of the puppet army, was one of those who had collaborated with Japan in search of 'political freedom' and now saw their mistake. In supporting their rising against Japanese we shall be doing no more than what has been done in Italy, Rumania, Hungary and Finland in turning people who were satellites of a power that has let them down and not fulfilled its promises to them into co-belligerents on our side. We shall then be leaving the civil Government a legacy of having assisted the Burmese to take steps themselves to liberating their country and this seems to be a very important political consideration.

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Refusing cooperation would be bad publicity in liberal circles at home and in the US. Having to suppress the movement would involve extra troops and have 'a grave effect on the civil re-organisation of the country'. The movement would in due course be expected to disarm voluntarily, but opportunity would be afforded for volunteers to enrol in the Burmese armed forces. On one issue Mountbatten asked for instructions: would His Majesty's government agree that there should be 'no arrests for political offences committed prior to re-occupation of Burma . . . until the re-establishment of civil Government'?54 The India Committee's reply, formulated by Amery and Cripps, stressed 'that any support that we give to the collaborationist leaders should not give the Burmans the impression that we are regarding these leaders as in any sense the liberators of their country; or that we are asking other elements to give their allegiance to these leaders . . .' They should be reminded more clearly than Mountbatten proposed that they have a lot of lee-way to make up . . . There is grave risk that if they are not treated with caution the leaders and supporters of the resistance movement will, on the return of normal government, build on the relatively unimportant assistance rendered, a claim for political control and possibly for immediate political concessions which His Majesty's Government would not be prepared to contemplate.

It might be made more plain that resistance leaders had 'to work their passage home'. Possibly some could later be enrolled in the Burma armed forces, but no commitments should be made. If Aung San or other leaders enquired about Britain's political intentions, 'S.O.E. should take the line that we are not prepared to discuss political issues with them or any isolated section of the community'.55 The Prime Minister approved the draft, and the telegram was sent on 30 March after a minor amendment by the Chiefs of Staff.56 A meeting on 2 April discussed the question of arms. Mountbatten ruled out a proclamation laying down the death penalty for their illicit possession in certain circumstances. 'He said that he wished the problem of Burma to be treated in a sensible manner as we had done in South Africa after the Boer War and that we should not use a heavy hand which might result in disaster as it had in Ireland.' He added 'that his aim and object was to establish the best possible conditions in Burma and that we should receive as far as possible a welcome when we returned to the country'. He handed round copies of a draft paper.57 No section of the population, it argued, should be outlawed for actions during the war or immediately beforehand, 'unless it can be proved that they consistently supported the Japanese to the end, and actively opposed our return'. The BDA and Anti-Fascist Organisation (AFO) acted for their own ends, but there was no reason to assume 'that the advantage of the Burmese

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and our own were mutually exclusive', and if civil affairs were conducted so as to afford a contrast with the Japanese, 'the Burmese will come to share my opinion. The eyes of the civilised world will be upon my Military Administration. In America, particularly, they will want to see how the British handle the native population in the first British territory to be liberated from enemy occupation.' A vindictive policy could impede assistance from the Burmese, throw away 'our chances of receiving help from the native population of Malaya', and bequeath DormanSmith's government 'a legacy of hatred and mistrust'.58 Mountbatten reaffirmed his policy in draft instructions for the Civil Affairs Service (Burma), finally issued on 2 June.59 Mountbatten declared he 'would have no more of these proposals to declare the Burma National Army illegal, or to arrest Aung San or in fact to impose any form of political discrimination on the Burmese'. The Chief of Police, Brigadier G. Chettle, and Sir A. Campbell told Mountbatten, as he put it, that he would make the British Administration of Burma difficult for years to come by starting off in this way. I reminded them that there would be no British Administration in Burma in the years to come, since Burma was being given Dominion Status and the right to secede just as soon as they could hold elections after the country had been rehabilitated a bit. I pointed out that my policy would make them wish to remain a member of the British Commonwealth once they had Dominion Status, but that their policy would ensure that they voted themselves out of the British Empire the moment they were given the chance.60

The tension between the policy developed by the government and by Mountbatten had meanwhile re-appeared. How was the Tatmadaw (Burma National Army) to be dealt with? How was Aung San to be treated? Slim saw him on 16 May. 'He made it clear to me', Slim reported, 'that he considered himself the military representative of a Provisional Government set up with Thakin Soe as President. He takes the line that he has come to treat with us as an Allied Commander and he only offered to present any proposals for administration of B.N.A. to his Provisional Government.' Slim suggested he should consider his army part of the future defence forces of Burma under the discipline of the Indian and Burma Army Act. 'He, however, shows no wish to give allegiance to anybody except his Provisional Government but appears willing to place his army under any Allied Commander in the Field as a recognised Ally.' Mountbatten asked Slim for more details of the Provisional Government. Did it consist solely of Thakins or was it augmented by other anti-Japanese leaders? In any case it appeared to be 'trying to identify the anti-Japanese elements in Burma with the further

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prosecution of the war on our side', and he thought 'their claim to Allied status to be purely one of prestige'. He told Slim to make it clear 'that while any country is under military administration no form of civil Government operates in any case', and asked the Governor to allow Slim to tell Aung San 'that he will consider including members of this Provisional Government among the representatives of other parties whom he will invite to join this Advisory Council when civil Government is restored'. Mountbatten also urged that the declaration of His Majesty's government's policy for Burma 'should be held up if possible pending these negotiations lest a political crisis be precipitated which would gravely interfere with operations which are still continuing and others projected for which a stable Burma is an essential prerequisite . . .'61 Governor Dorman-Smith thought it would be 'a disaster to give even the semblance of recognition to Aung San or any organisation styling itself provisional government': a legitimate government still existed. Nor could he 'for a moment contemplate' giving the undertaking on the advisory council Mountbatten suggested. The policy seemed a 'radical departure' from that approved at the end of March.62 'I was only suggesting', Mountbatten commented, 'that you let Slim tell Aung San now what I presumed you would eventually be doing, unless indeed you propose not to invite representatives of the only elements that have risen on our side to fight the Japanese'. He insisted that his interest in the matter was 'purely military. I wish to incorporate and get under control the BNA and in this way I hope to disarm and disband redundant units and restore law and order for your speedy resumption of Civil Government'. Unless some solution were found which Aung San and his colleagues would accept, he foresaw a civil war. What suggestion did Dorman-Smith have?63 Dorman-Smith replied that he would consider 'all shades of political thought' for inclusion in his executive and legislative councils. Aung San and his friends would be 'considered but in my view should not be promised a right to seats' in view of their past misdeeds and the instructions of March. Negotiations were apparently being conducted with Aung San as if a provisional government were in being and as if Aung San were its commander-in-chief and military representative: in fact in law he and his colleagues were rebels.64 The government in London supported Dorman-Smith. Aung San's pretensions had to be 'effectively corrected': His Majesty's government accepted the position as defined by the Governor. The question of including Thakins in any body of advisers was one for him after civil government had been restored. Walton had shown the draft to Bennett at the Foreign Office. There Foulds had pointed out that a clash with the guerrillas would have a disastrous effect, especially among the Americans, who had dealt with the Filipino guerrillas 'without drawing

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attention to themselves'.65 Dorman-Smith was, however, told that Amery entirely agreed with his line.66 'I am afraid our impetuous friend Dickie [Mountbatten] must have given you a considerable flutter when he was prepared, not only to leave unrefuted Aung San's claim to represent a provisional Government, but also to give his crowd something like a promise of inclusion in your new Executive. Your telegram on that issue', Amery told Dorman-Smith, 'was very effective and I think you will feel happy at the actual instructions sent to Mountbatten from here.'67 Mountbatten met the Governor in Delhi at the end of May. The army issues were discussed. It was also 'agreed that it would be most useful for the Governor to interview suitable representatives of all parties in Burma, including the self-styled provisional government, explain to them His Majesty's Government's policy as regarding the granting of Dominion Status, and give them the opportunity of co-operating with us for their own good'. Mountbatten suggested the venue might be a warship in the Rangoon River, which would 'overcome the difficulties of the Governor returning to Burma before his Civil Administration could be restored, and would obviate the politically difficult and undesirable course of bringing the Burmese representatives out of Burma. It should take place shortly after the Victory Parade on 15 June and before the disbandment of the B.N.A. was effected . . .'68 The Governor sought approval for the visit to Rangoon. The main problem was to prevent 'very active and politically-minded leaders of A.F.O. and B.N.A. from suffering from such a sense of frustration etc. that movements, which are now out in the open, will be driven underground . . .' Even if the BNA were disarmed, there would be plenty of weapons around. Our object must be to harness enthusiasm of even the most ardent Nationalist leaders and their followers . . . it will be necessary to demonstrate to them that it is intended that. . . opportunity will be given to Burmans of all shades of opinion to play a real part in rehabilitation and government of their country as soon as civil administration is resumed. It will also be necessary to give them an authoritative explanation of H.M.G.'s policy and to persuade them that their active cooperation in carrying out the programme laid down therein will in fact bring full self-government to Burma in the shortest possible time.69 The meeting on the Cumberland included the AFPFL and other Burmans. The two main objectives for the civil government when it returned, Dorman-Smith declared, would be ' (i) with the help of the Burman people, to start in on the formidable task of repairing the damage which has been done to your country, and (ii) again with the help of the Burman people, to ensure that Burma attains full self-government

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in the shortest possible time, with a status equal to that of any Dominion and enjoying precisely the same amount of "freedom" as Great Britain herself enjoys'. Cooperation, even enthusiasm, were essential. They could not be expected if Britain still felt it impossible 'to accede to Burma's request to be granted full self-government'. In fact, however, parliament had decided that Burma would have full self-government just as soon as the 'essential preliminaries' were completed. 'Burma's "fight for freedom" is over . . .' The length of that period would depend 'very largely on Burma herself. The Section 139 regime need not last till December 1948. But meanwhile a caretaker regime must exist. DormanSmith went on to quote Cripps' comments in the Commons debate, insisting on an orderly development, rather than the rapid seizing of power by a political group. But the caretaker government should not, Dorman-Smith declared, be merely official. T would like the Administration to be a coalition composed of capable men of all the principal political groups in Burma, men who are prepared to work in a singleminded way for the greater good of their country . . .' So far from ignoring it, Dorman-Smith alluded to the AFPFL programme. 'Our minds are precisely one', he declared. It sought selfdetermination. 'That right is fully conceded. Parliament has laid it down that Burma will attain the same status as Great Britain herself, with the same rights as Great Britain enjoys, which certainly include the right of self-determination.' The programme sought a constitution through a constituent assembly elected on universal suffrage. 'We entirely agree that Burma must herself determine her own constitution. It will be for the Legislature when elected to lay down the method to be employed.' The AFPFL felt that meanwhile mobilisation and reconstruction could be achieved only by a sufficiently representative national government. Again I quite agree. After the election it will be possible to form a Coalition Government if at the time that appears to Burma to be the right thing to do. In the meantime during the caretaker period, I have said that I will try to make the Executive Council and the Legislative Council as representative as I can, after consultation with representatives of the principal political groups. Dorman-Smith endorsed the emphasis on reconstruction. 'Let's Get on with the Job!' was his concluding slogan.70 The Governor thus tried at once to liberalise the policy of the White Paper and put the AFPFL claims into the context of those of other Burmans, so in a sense bringing the two policies that Britain had been developing together. But was that possible? It depended on the AFPFL, and also on SAC. Both policies aimed at the political development of Burma as part of the Commonwealth, but they comprised strategies that were different, even at odds.

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Suitable elements of the BNA should be recruited into the Burman army, it was intended, the rest disbanded, while Aung San should become Deputy Inspector-General. The 'Patriotic Burmese Forces', however, did not dissolve, and its area commanders resolved on 12 August that, with the guerrilla units, it should form the nucleus of the Burman army of the future.71 On 19 August, shortly after the Japanese surrender, the AFPFL organised a mass meeting in Rangoon. Aung San proclaimed that it was not a party but a national organisation, and indicated that 99 per cent of the PBF would be unwilling to serve in the fighting forces of an unfree country. Than Tun read a manifesto, World Peace and Free Burma.

Burma had shown herself, by her actions in the field, fit for Independence and desired to be represented as a free country at the World Conference to discuss peace. She now wanted a Cabinet [representative] of the people to draw up a Constitution and in the meantime a temporary National Government should be formed. The meeting then resolved that the proposal to absorb the PBF into the Burman Army should be cancelled and that a temporary national government should be formed.72 The league wished to keep the PBF in being, Mountbatten was told by his Chief of Staff, General F. A. M. Browning, or make it the nucleus of the army, 'in order to have political instrument'. He suggested a discussion with Aung San at Kandy. 'Unless gesture of this sort be made it is very probable that PBF may go underground and general internal situation deteriorate.'73 This meeting Mountbatten arranged for 4 September.74 Another matter - related in more than one way - was also to be discussed at Kandy. That was the return of civil government. Shortly before the Japanese collapse, Dorman-Smith telegraphed the Secretary of State, pointing out that with it Burma would cease to be a base for major military operations, and that the military necessity for retaining military administration would cease: 'the demand for immediate reestablishment of civil administration, which alone can enable Burma to get back on to the road of constitutional advance, will be insistent and irresistible even though conditions (transport, supplies, etc.) may not be favourable to civil administration . . .'75 Another telegram to the Secretary of State followed the actual surrender. The military government was almost entirely European, and no advance to self-government was possible with it. 'If we wait until we are happy about the material aspect of our return, we may well find that Burma is seething with political discontent to an extent which no amount of "comforts" will satisfy . . .'76 Mountbatten did not accept Dorman-Smith's arguments. Burma would not cease to be a base for military operations: they would be

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needed to secure control of the rest of Burma east of the Sittang and the disarming of a large number of Japanese still in the country. 'My considered opinion is that the fact ofJapanese surrender will not materially alter the time factor of your return . . . also . . . I shall have to move most of my military resources to rehabilitate the additional million square miles of territory which is just being added to my command as my ultimate boundary will probably extend as far as British New Guinea, for which purpose I shall have no more military resources at my disposal When negotiations with the Japanese, the Dutch, the French and the Siamese had 'simmered down a bit', Mountbatten would be 'delighted' if Dorman-Smith brought his staff to Kandy 'to re-examine the whole position once more'.77 The meeting could also be the occasion for a discussion with Aung San. 'I feel that the A.F.O. may be trying to strengthen their own position and it is for this reason that I am so anxious for the meeting to take place when you are here; for, as you know, I never wish to get out of step during the period of Military Administration with anything you wish to do in the Civil Administration.' Mountbatten added that he had 'the same sort of trouble with the new Japanese puppet Indonesian Republic . . .; I gather I am also in for a repetition in Malaya as well as in Northern F[rench] I[ndo] C[hina] . . .'78 Dorman-Smith found Mountbatten's telegram 'to the highest degree disturbing'. The supply situation was unlikely to be better by the date Mountbatten suggested. The staff was already under Mountbatten's command. Contrast MacArthur's announcement that military government would end in the Philippines on 1 September and that the army would assist in maintaining order or restoring public utilities if requested. 'The fact that most of the military resources may have to be moved to rehabilitate other territories leaving Burma unrehabilitated and bare is no valid argument for the retention of military administration in Burma. If we have to improvise in that unfortunate country a civil administration with which Burmese are fully associated is in better position to secure public cooperation than is a British military administration.'79 Dorman-Smith was concerned above all to bring Mountbatten's rule to an end. His policy was in any case not working. Mountbatten yielded the point. But what of Aung San and the Tatmadaw? Many Burmans apparently suspected British sincerity. That view was put by Hubert Ranee, Chief Civil Affairs Officer, who argued for a definite declaration that the British would hand over full control to the Burmese on a specified date. Until a definite undertaking was given 'which will remove the general background of suspicion', Mountbatten concluded, any arrangements with the Burmese were bound to be stopgaps.80 Aung San seemed to be 'playing for time', he told a meeting on 5 September, or else he intended to force an AFPFL government on the

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country without holding elections. That would be difficult to deal with, since it would look as if the British were 'suppressing by force what might be represented to the world as the popular will of the Burmese people'. Similar problems might face SACSEA elsewhere in Southeast Asia, and the precedent of a rebellion should be avoided.81 Dorman-Smith did not advocate changing the White Paper policy at this juncture: that could only mean one-party rule. But the problem he would face was already apparent from his discussions with AFPFL leaders in Kandy: they clearly wanted to nominate the members of his executive council.82 The new Labour government in London supported his line. 'Policy of His Majesty's Government in dealing with liberated countries in Europe is to make for broad-based body representative of all parties and in no circumstances could we agree to domination of a single party, particularly with characteristics of Anti Fascist Organisation . . ,'83 The British, declared Pethick-Lawrence, must 'very carefully' avoid taking that organisation at its face value. 'The effect of doing so would be merely to hand over the future of Burma to a single party with marked Fascist leanings and to kill any hope of the emergence of a party system, or a broad-based government representative of the various other interests which we are anxious to bring in.' It was 'a political issue of first class importance, the handling of which may have very material reactions in quite different fields - such as our relations with Hungary, Romania, Poland, as well as in our American publicity and comment in the Dominions'.84 It was a 'great relief to the Secretary of State, 'to feel that in these critical early days we have behind us the moral reserve represented by substantial military forces, the significance of which will, I am sure, not be lost on potential malefactors'.85 'You can count on me to continue giving you all the support possible', 'Dickie' wrote to 'Reggie', 'but I must warn you that the flare-up in the Netherlands East India has necessitated my sending a complete corps of three divisions and an armoured brigade which, of course, is a great deal more than I expected to send. This is going to have repercussions on what I can send into Burma, Malaya, Hong Kong and Borneo . . ,'86 Nor would it be numbers alone that would diminish any feeling of relief. 'The situation in French Indo-China and the Netherlands East Indies will give us some trouble', Wavell had told Pe thick-Lawrence. 'Indian troops are involved in both places, and we shall be attacked for allowing His Majesty's Government to use them to suppress national movements . . .'87 Mountbatten had recognised that there was little chance of dissolving the military threat of the BNA while the political aspirations of the AFPFL went unfulfilled. Dorman-Smith could not, however, reach agreement with Aung San and his colleagues over the executive council.

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The Burma Office approved his conclusion - 'we cannot let ourselves either be bounced . . . into placing them in exclusive authoritarian control of the country or be blackmailed by them' - and so did the Cabinet.88 The new legislative council was also formed without AFPFL representation, as a result of the AFPFL's more or nothing approach. Meeting Aung San, the Governor thought him 'tired and deflated'.89 But in fact he was winning the struggle. The league had political power de facto, whatever the Governor and the Cabinet were prepared to give it de jure. 'Failure to persuade AFPFL to join the Governor's Executive Council on mutually acceptable terms was probably the seed which ultimately led to the severance of ties with Britain', as T. L. Hughes, the Governor's secretary, was to write.90 It was not Aung San who was in an impossible situation. By not taking part AFPFL had surely ruined the policy of the Governor and Burma Office irretrievably, rather than condemned itself. If British policy could not work with it, it could not work without it. The AFPFL retained real power and condemned the old hands. No amount of propaganda or conciliation of moderates could remedy this: indeed it would merely look like divide-and-rule. DormanSmith and the Whitehall authorities speculated that their success might be so great that frustration would lead the AFPFL to rebel. In fact they were likely to fail. So open a conflict it would probably be unnecessary for Aung San to risk, though he was cautious while the British still had troops available. He believed that time was on his side; and he was correct. What decreased with time was not his strength or influence. What decreased was any chance of Burma's staying in the Commonwealth when the time for the British ran out. But, despite assurances designed to lull the Governor, that was never likely in any case. Neither Governor nor government seemed to realise that time was not on their side. In time, indeed, fissiparous tendencies would be increasingly felt in the AFPFL. But the effect would be not to offer a moderate alternative to it but to make it more rigid in its approach to Britain and the Commonwealth. Over the prospect Dorman-Smith had himself been doubtful: the break-up of the league might make Aung San try other methods.91 Time, too, did not help with economic reconstruction - even if it had been successful, it could still have been presented as 'economic Fascism' - nor over the delayed and inadequate supply of consumer goods. The AFPFL, as indeed Dorman-Smith recognised, could utilise popular dissatisfaction. 'Few people here are really enamoured of our White Paper policy but many are prepared to stomach it provided in the meantime some relief comes to them. Without that relief we can only anticipate a hardening of feeling against us . . ,'92 But if the supply situation could improve, the military situation could not. Time did not help to sustain the sanction of force upon which Pethick-Lawrence had

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once congratulated himself. On the one hand, the arrangements for the displacement of the PBF by the Burma Army made by Mountbatten were unlikely to work unless the AFPFL secured its political objective: in fact the People's Volunteer Organization (PVO, PYA) was to emerge. On the other hand, most serious of all, there was a diminishing chance that the government would have British or Indian troops at its disposal. If Aung San turned to violence, it might not be possible to deal with it. The chance that he would need to turn to violence thus indeed diminished. The return of the civil government to Burma had been accompanied by an undertaking that military assistance would be afforded when required. Slim's directive to Sir M. Stopford, GOC-in-C of the 12th Army, embodied this arrangement: he was to assist when the Governor called upon him to do so, though the methods and strengths of the armed forces employed would be for Stopford to decide.93 Reservations over the use of Indian troops initially came rather from the Viceroy and from the C-in-C India, Sir Claude Auchinleck, than from Mountbatten, and related to Indonesia and Indo-China. But the reservations extended to Burma too. Auchinleck suggested to Mountbatten that the Slim directive should be redrafted. There can be no objection to the use of Indian troops against dacoits or bandits . . . : but political difficulties will arise if they are used to quell any political or quasi-political disturbances, particularly those professing to aim at the independence of Burma. Indian political parties might very well criticise strongly the use of Indian troops to stifle what would be described as the just aspirations of a sister Eastern nation . . . The directive should stress the need to consult the Indian authorities. Stopford should be told to 'maintain close touch' with the C-in-C in India 'and inform him in advance of the growth of any situation which appears likely to involve the use of Indian troops'.94 At an inter-command conference in Delhi, Mountbatten opened discussion on the 'situation that would arise if political deadlock in Burma should result in armed uprising . . .' Auchinleck said 'that before Indian troops could be used to suppress nationalistic movement India must be consulted and he was certain present political situation India would not permit Viceroy to agree'. MacDougall, attending as the Governor's Counsellor, 'raised the point that Burma rising would certainly be accompanied by attacks on Indians and surely this would affect Indian attitude. Auchinleck said ordinary internal security duties would present no difficulty but a rising ostensibly for freedom with an appeal to world opinion would be different. . .' Mountbatten at first thought that 'he would have to get a clear ruling on the use of Indian troops as if in the last resort they cannot be used the Governor will have

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to reshape his policy accordingly', but later 'took the view that we should not raise the question with India: that he knew now where we stood with India and would stretch matters as far as he could to help us'.95 The Governor had been disturbed by reports from Delhi about restrictions on the use of Indian troops. If Aung San decided to start real trouble on the NEI model, I should not be able to cope if India decided that his is a 'freedom' movement... It has been suggested to me that this also means that I should be forced to obey Aung San's conditions since should he call my bluff - and it looks as though there must be an element of bluff in all I do, I shall find myself unable to impose any possible sanction. Nevertheless, being quite convinced that our policy is a good one and a right one, I am not going to be deflected, whatever the consequences may be. Either we carry out our policy or commit ourselves to complete surrender

Visiting India, General Sir Mosley Mayne, Secretary to the Military Department at the India Office, had found the authorities 'very definite and firm'. They were unwilling to risk the reproduction in Burma of conditions which exist in N.E.I, and F.I.C. The Congress is making much capital out of alleged use of Indian troops, as mercenaries, for the suppression of so called nationalist movements in N.E.I, and F.I.C. - even more capital than the party is making over our treatment of the I.N.A. - and our use of Indian troops for that purpose in Burma would give Congress material for agitation which might be even more damaging in its potential effect on the loyalty of the Indian Army . . ,97

In Auchinleck's view, it was 'essential that our political action both in India and in the neighbouring countries where Indian troops are employed, should in no way give opportunities for political agitation to subvert the loyalty to Government of the Indian Armed Forces . . .'98 The INA trials, Wavell had telegraphed, were embarrassing: 'the use of Indian troops in Java and French Indo-China is more damaging in the long run because the case against it is, from the Indian point of view, almost a cast-iron one, and there is little need to twist the arguments to make it look wrong.'99 Wavell and Auchinleck proposed a revised directive. Since the majority of your army are Indian troops you will bear in mind special circumstances of India and Burma. It is the intention of H.M.G. that both Burma and India shall govern themselves as soon as possible and it is most undesirable that Indian troops should be used in a manner distasteful to Indian public opinion. You will therefore maintain close touch with HE the C in C in India and inform him of growth of any situation which appears likely

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But this approach was unacceptable at the Burma Office. Its reply emphasised the authority of the Governor. 'And it is for the Governor, working directly under H.M.G., to take into account, as their instrument, the importance of ensuring that Indian troops should not be used in any inappropriate way, and that all proper weight should be given to the importance of Indian reactions.' Nor was it 'suitable' for the directive of one commander or another to 'enter into political issues such as political intentions of H.M.G. in the political field . . .'101 The exact wording of the directive, Wavell stressed, was of comparatively minor importance: if serious disasters arise and there are Indian troops in Burma they cannot remain neutral. Important point is that His Majesty's Government should realise the disastrous consequences likely to arise from the use of Indian troops in Burma to suppress what can be interpreted as national freedom movement. Such action might in Auchinleck's opinion have serious consequences on morale of whole Indian Army as well as on prospects of political settlement in India. It is therefore essential that His Majesty's Government should so direct policy in Burma as to make uprising unlikely.

Both Mountbatten and Auchinleck had, Wavell added, 'profound mistrust of Governor's present policy and think that he is resisting popular forces which will win any election held in Burma'.102 Mountbatten, Laithwaite of the Burma Office thought, might not have forgiven Dorman-Smith for taking over in October against his advice. The Viceroy and Auchinleck were quite out of the picture as regards the handling of Burma policy and the action which they criticise has been taken with the full approval of H.M.G. It might prove in the event that Aung San and AFPFL were the right answer. But that remains to be seen. And the policy of H.M.G. in dealing with post-war governments throughout the world has been to refuse to accept any which were not based on free democratic elections. If the free elections in Burma, when they take place, result in Aung San being returned, he will then be the man with whom we will have to do business. But in the intermediate period I still think we should have made a mistake to take any course other than that which we have adopted . . .103

Laithwaite drafted a telegram for the Viceroy, stressing the government's approval of Dorman-Smith's policy. 'But you may be certain that as in the past so in the future, we shall be alive to the possible danger of an uprising, and concerned so to direct our policy as to avoid this. But you will realise that there might also be circumstances in which choice

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before us might be between dealing with an uprising and abdicating This phrase was, however, replaced by something rather more cautious, drafted by Henderson, the Parliamentary Under-Secretary: 'But you may be assured that we intend to pursue a conciliatory policy and that while we must continue to be prepared for all eventualities we have no intention of provoking disaster by repressing legitimate means of expression.'104 On the day this telegram was sent from London, Mountbatten called on Dorman-Smith and, according to a narrative the Governor subsequently prepared for his biographer Maurice Collis, declared he had a message to deliver on behalf of Viceroy, C-in-C and himself. It was to the effect that in the event of Aung San raising the flag of 'Freedom' and starting an armed rising such as the Indonesians had staged against the Dutch under no circumstances would I be allowed to use Indian troops to suppress the rising . . . Said the Supremo 'You must so govern the country that there will be no rising.' 'By that you mean' said I 'that I must hand over to Aung San.' Mountbatten did not deny that implication. I replied that I had no intention of doing any such thing as by so doing we would be failing in our greater duty to Burma . . . nothing would persuade me to cave in to the totalitarian AFPFL.105

The Governor could see no reason to alter his line, 'which in effect was to give the necessary breathing space to moderate opinion'. Britain was not trying to restore the status quo. *U Aung San could have no justification for emulating the Indonesians nor could he make out any valid case to justify a rising in the sacred name of "Freedom". What he wanted to do was to ensure that when power came to be handed over it would be given to him . . ,'106 Presumably Mountbatten wanted now no more than in November to formalise an initiative on his own part and so be blamed for calling the 'bluff. He thus conveyed his view to Dorman-Smith informally. Mountbatten's policy was to conciliate Aung San and the AFPFL. DormanSmith was entirely opposed to giving in to a 'totalitarian' group like the AFPFL, and in this his policy, though seen as 'his' by Mountbatten, was clearly also that of both Conservative and Labour politicians, and of the India and Burma Offices, mistaken though it might turn out to be, as Laithwaite recognised. Both government and Governor were anxious to see a renewal of the options available in Burma's political life. At the same time, they favoured economic rehabilitation. Though the object of these policies was in some respects similar, they tended to cancel each other out. The executive council was weakened because of the lack of AFPFL representation, and the government ineffectual. Dorman-Smith's further

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moves also tended to cancel each other out. Allowing U Saw, the former premier, back into politics after his wartime confinement looked like divide-and-rule. Putting Tun Ok on the executive council was an embarrassment, because he declared that he had witnessed a murder by Aung San in 1942. The government had been cautious about taking up that case, and now Attlee prohibited his arrest.107 Mountbatten declared that it would be 'the greatest disservice which could be done towards the future relationship of Burma within the British Empire'.108 Unsure of military support, the Governor decided against a showdown. 'I would like to do something to that little so-and-so [Aung San]', he wrote to Monteath, but there it is, if the army are uncertain of themselves and of the liberty of action which they will be given what can a poor Governor do? I took an extremely poor view of Mountbatten's telegram and very nearly put in an official complaint against his quite unwarranted interference in my affairs . . . Rot him - most of our troubles can be traced to the fact that he did not repeat and underline NOT carry out the instructions given to him by the Cabinet and the Chiefs of Staff as drafted by you, me and Gilbert [Laithwaite].... He, of course, formed the opinion that the future of Burma lies in the hands of Aung San and his band of thugs. It may but in my view it is neither for him or for me to back any particular political horse.109 'It is no exaggeration to say that just at the moment we are not really governing the country and that the fear of AFPFL is still a very potent fear apparently both on our part and on the part of the ordinary Burma[n] who has come to the conclusion that we are afraid . . .' n o A petition from the widow of the murdered headman revived the issue, and Governor and government agreed that the law must take its course.111 They were brought to a halt, however, by a telegram from the Cabinet delegation in India. If disturbances ensued in Burma, that would involve the use of Indian troops: 'nothing would be more disastrous than a situation of this sort just at the time when we are trying to form an interim Government.'112 'Another hour and U Aung San would have been behind bars!' Dorman-Smith later wrote.113 General H. R. Briggs, now GOC, told Stopford that, in view of the widow's plea for justice, it seemed 'unavoidable' that the case should take its normal course. Unless the government handled publicity 'extremely well', 'there seems every chance of the repercussions being worked up on freedom movement lines'. This might involve using all the troops in Burma other than Indian, but including African, and he thought that would suffice. If it did not, he would be able to warn the C-in-C. Stopford was less optimistic, and SAC and Killearn agreed with Stopford.114 At a Chiefs-of-Staff meeting in London, Lieut.-General Simpson recommended that the Burma Office should be asked to take

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no further action to arrest Aung San without reference to the COS. No reinforcements were available, and Indian troops might have to be used.115 General Sir Hastings Ismay told Attlee that they were 'apprehensive that the arrest of Aung San may lead to the creation in Burma of yet another plague spot at a time when we have all too many centres of potential trouble on our hands . . .' No decision should be taken before the COS had a chance to advise on the military implications.116 The Prime Minister was anxious to avoid 'a false step till the "military aspect" at any rate is cleared up'.117 Dorman-Smith received a new warning, not to make the arrest without the Prime Minister's authority.118 Dorman-Smith canvassed alternative approaches, including an amnesty. That prompted Attlee to replace the Governor. Tt is obvious he has lost grip. He changes his position from day to day and has no clear policy . . .'119 The fact was, however, that the strategy government and Governor had both supported was faulty. Tt emerges to my mind more and more clearly', Laithwaite wrote, 'that AFPFL are the people who matter and whom we ought if we possibly can (within of course the terms of the White Paper) to get into the Executive Council.'120 It was not merely what Mountbatten called 'Reggie's idiotic and vacillating policy' that prompted his 'glaring failure'.121 An account of Britain's policy in Burma raises issues that other colonial powers were to face elsewhere. They too sought to find 'moderates' with whom they could work, though the definition of 'moderates' varied. They, too, held out prospects of political advance, though less definite than the British. None of the powers, it may be said, ever regained even that control of the countryside that they had secured in the heyday of colonialism. None of them had reliable military strength. The French and the Dutch were too weak to do other than trust in the old colonial approach, demonstrations of violence, in the hope of securing compliance. The British were stronger, but India, source of their power, was also source of their weakness. The British were more ready to adapt, the French and the Dutch inhibited by metropolitan politics. They offered few creative policies. The British were critical of them as a result. Their criticism of European powers always had limits, but they were more prepared to put pressure on the Dutch than on the French. That related, at least in part, to their comparative significance in Britain's European policy. General Gracey and the Viet Minh

MacArthur had suspended re-occupation plans until the Japanese surrendered in Tokyo. A typhoon delayed the signing till 2 September.122 The same day the Viet Minh proclaimed independence in Hanoi, openly

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appealing to outside powers.123 It was less effective in the south.124 There British-Indian troops could have been present sooner. But instructions prepared for the Allied forces in any case scarcely covered the political issues likely to arise. Their focus was on securing the surrender of Japanese troops, and on releasing prisoners-of-war and internees. The assumption they made was that the colonial powers would return, but the relationship with that process was left unclear. In the case of Britain's own territories, there were to be misapprehensions and civil-military tensions, in Burma, in Malaya, in Borneo. In the case of the territories of the French and the Dutch, they were greater and more difficult to resolve. President Truman's General Order No. 1 stated that the Japanese were responsible for maintaining law and order in the occupied areas until Allied forces could take over.125 The British COS directive to Mountbatten set the post-surrender priorities: 'the reoccupation of key areas of occupied territories in order to secure effective control and to enforce the surrender and disarmament of the Japanese armed forces'; the earliest release of prisoners-of-war and internees; protection of British interests in China; and participation in the occupation of Japan.126 Mountbatten was to send a force to Saigon to ensure control of the headquarters of the Japanese southern armies. 'We are arranging to ship French forces and civil affairs personnel to follow up your forces, which should not occupy more of French Indo-China than is necessary to ensure the control of the headquarters of the Japanese Southern Armies.'127 SEAC's Force Plan 1 as set out by its Joint Planning Staff on 31 August declared that 'the eventual reoccupation of French IndoChina is a matter for the French'. SEAC's aim was to introduce a force into southern French Indo-China in order to control the Japanese headquarters, to concentrate and evacuate Allied prisoners-of-war and internees and to disarm Japanese forces. Phase I would coincide with the British occupation and Phase II with the take-over by French military forces and civil affairs personnel. The primary task was to secure the Saigon area. When sufficient forces were available, other tasks should be undertaken, disarming the Japanese, evacuating prisoners and internees, maintaining law and order and protecting vital installations, apprehending war criminals.128 'But', as Dennis asks, 'whose law and order was to be established?'129 As Commander of Allied Land Forces French Indo-China General Douglas Gracey also had a directive from ALFSEA. He was to secure the Saigon area, disarm and concentrate Japanese forces, maintain law and order, protect and evacuate prisoners-of-war and internees, liberate Allied territory as far as resources permitted. He was to give such

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directives to the French Indo-China government as were required, consulting the French Land Forces Commander.130 Gracey was also head of the Control Commission in Indo-China, reporting to SEAC. His tasks included opening the river and sea approaches to Saigon, using Japanese resources, and maintaining liaison with the local French government.131 The Ministry of Colonies had at first not shared de Gaulle's view: regain, then be generous. 'It is better to pronounce the word Independence at the opportune moment than to be thrown out. After all, the status of a present and favoured friend remains an acceptable condition.' The instructions were changed, though; replying from Kunming to an approach from Ho Chi Minh, Leon Pignon spoke of 'independence' within the French Union.132 Bao Dai appealed to the Allied leaders to recognise Vietnam's independence. 'Even if you should reconquer the rule of this country no one would obey you . . . , you will have to withdraw', he told de Gaulle, who was 'unimpressed'.133 In discussions on the draft Anglo-French Civil Affairs agreement, Dening found the attitude of the French Civil Affairs officer disturbing. It seemed 'that the French are likely to take the attitude that all subversive movements in French Indo-China are Japanese-stimulated', and 'will call upon us, for as long as our forces are in that country, to assist in the suppression of these movements'. Not all the movements were like that, and it would be difficult to determine which were. 'An additional problem may well present itself by virtue of the fact that European French populations in Indo-China may be in real danger from disorders arising from independence movements.' Dening thought that 'we should avoid at all costs laying ourselves open to the accusation that we are assisting the West to suppress the East. Such an accusation will arise very readily to the lips of the Americans and Chinese and will be likely to create an unfavourable impression throughout Asia.' Bevin thought this 'an important point to watch'.134 Brigadier E. Gibbons, CCAO at SEAC headquarters, had also been concerned, and the final version stated that involvement in maintaining law and order in any but British key areas could result only from French requests which were to be referred to the Supreme Commander. The key areas were those required to control the Japanese HQ, to enforce surrender, and to secure prisoners-of-war and internees.135 The Control Commission arrived in Saigon on 13 September to find the provisional government installed in the Hotel de Ville.136 The Viet Minh called a general strike on 17 September,137 and two days later there was a mass demonstration against British troops.138 At his staff meeting that day Mountbatten listed Britain's aims in sending troops to French Indo-China: to control the Japanese HQ, to disarm the Japanese, to

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release and repatriate prisoners-of-war and internees, 'and to maintain law and order until the arrival of French forces'. It had no intention of using British forces to crush resistance movements.139 T think it should be made clear to the world in an official pronouncement', Dening told the Foreign Office, 'what our sole object is and that when it is accomplished our forces will be withdrawn.'140 Wilson-Young accepted that Britain would have to 'proceed with the greatest care'. As a colonial Power it is in our interest to see that evolution towards 'progressive self-government' is smooth and gradual and is not accompanied by revolutionary outbreaks which could but have an unsettling effect on the native populations of our own territories in South East Asia and in the meanwhile might also affect the quantity of rice available for export to the famine areas. The presence of British forces in Indo-China could in itself lead to no advantages, Wilson-Young observed. If they tried to suppress antirevolutionary activities, Britain would be criticised in the US and China, while a policy of complete non-intervention would be seen by the French as 'a further step towards our long-term objective of pushing the French out of their colonial territories'. His conclusion was that Britain must get French troops into southern Indo-China 'with the utmost dispatch and after turning over to them . . . withdraw our own forces as soon as possible'. Dening's proposal Wilson-Young did not favour. 'The trouble . . . is that it might well be interpreted as an indication of our intention to wash our hands of all internal developments in Indo-China and as indicating that we do not even accept responsibility for the maintenance of law and order.' That would invite the revolutionaries to proceed with their activities and confirm French suspicions. The Supreme Commander might, however, state that, while it was not the Force Commander's task to intervene in internal affairs, he could not in fulfilling his task of 'liquidating the Japanese situation' and releasing prisonersof-war and internees 'tolerate activities on the part of any political groups which did not serve to contribute to the orderly administration of the country pending the resumption of control by the French'.141 The proposal was put to the Chiefs of Staff.142 After giving notice to Tran Van Giau at the Hotel de Ville, Gracey issued a proclamation on 21 September, indicating that he had the task of ensuring law and order in all southern Indo-China, banning demonstrations, public meetings, and the carrying of arms, and stating that the existing curfew in Saigon/Cholon would be strictly enforced.143 Mountbatten felt that this was contrary to the British government's policy and warned Gracey to confine the operations of British-Indian troops to the

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tasks he had been set. He did, however, declare that the general had 'acted with courage and determination in an extremely difficult situation'.144 He raised with the COS the question of maintaining law and order in southern French Indo-China overall. He also requested General Philippe Leclerc to suggest to his government a 'precise and detailed declaration' promising independence and dominion status in Indo-China. That would stop the fighting for self-government, and have a beneficial effect on English and American opinion.145 Gracey thought it 'quite evident that unless the puppet government was evicted and the French government reinstated almost immediately, in fact strong measures taken, not only would the puppet government's hold on the country be consolidated and their plans for subversive action and hooliganism be made firm, but also landing by air and sea of troops and supplies would become daily more hazardous'.146 Viet Minh police were disarmed and installations secured. The actual coup on 23 September was said to be the idea of Jean Cedile, the GovernorGeneral designate, and another Frenchman.147 A seizure of power would unite the French and rally the Vietnamese: 'if the French could consolidate power quickly, the British could wind up and go home quicker.'148 The coup was supported by Gracey but he had not anticipated the excesses of the French troops and civilians.149 They invited Vietnamese counter-measures, as he recognised, and on 25 September a general uprising ensued.150 On his arrival, H. N. Brain, the Foreign Office representative, reported that covert Japanese encouragement of the Vietnamese and supply of arms could not be checked until Allied troops were present in sufficient strength. Disarming the Japanese could be done in three ways. Concentrating them, and leaving the areas they occupied to the rebels, would delay the establishment of peace and order and be 'strenuously opposed' by the French. Letting the French take over directly from the Japanese would be 'dangerous both in regard to the Annamites and the Japanese': the former would be hostile and the latter contemptuous. An incident was possible, especially as French morale was low, and there was a tendency to panic. Brain concluded that 'however much we may wish to avoid the political implications of handing Indo-China back to French rule', the only option was 'taking over areas one at a time from the Japanese with French forces in our wake to take control as we move on'. The French population, Brain added, feared and hated the Vietnamese and wanted revenge. They would 'constitute one of the greatest obstacles to the institution by the French of a liberal policy and its acceptance by the Annamites', and Cedile could not cope with the situation.151 The situation was discussed on 28 September in Singapore at a meeting of Mountbatten's attended by Slim and Gracey and byJ.J. Lawson,

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Secretary of State for War.152 Gracey argued that the proclamation had been necessary because the Vietnamese had to know that he had instructed the Japanese to maintain security and that those who provoked disorder would be punished, and Slim supported him. Mountbatten concluded that more troops were needed, either to take on law and order in the south (course A) or, indeed, in Saigon alone (course B).153 Course B was preferred by the Joint Planning Staff in London. They also agreed that the proclamation could not be withdrawn, since that would incite revolutionary activity. Gracey's forces were thus responsible for law and order in southern Indo-China until the French could take over. The Joint Planning Staff recommended that SAC's primary responsibility was to control Saigon; but that he could assist the small French forces in the interior provided that did not prejudice the primary task.154 The instructions given to Gracey had not envisaged a nationalist challenge to Taw and order' and had not been drafted to take that into account. He attempted to resolve the problem he faced by the proclamation and by the coup, rather than by working with the provisional government. The Foreign Office had already recognised that the French could not simply be abandoned. Now the balance was tipping the other way. Conciliatory talks became pressing. But they could lead to involvement, too. Mountbatten permitted Gracey to continue efforts to bring Cedile and the Viet Minh together for discussions but not to negotiate with them himself. After meeting a number of Vietnamese, Mountbatten's emissary, Brigadier E. C. J. Myers, urged the necessity for a 'firm but progressive policy' on the part of the French.155 Dening did not think the independence movement in Indo-China 'an insoluble problem', though the Japanese still covertly fostered it, and the 'badness' of the Chinese and Americans north of 16° would make life difficult for some time to come. He thought the Asian independence movements 'half baked': 'treated in the proper way they should not be very terrifying. But treated in the wrong way, they may well, in the end, spell the end of Europe in Asia.' The British should be 'leaders in handling the situation in the right way'. British forces were 'liberating these areas', and British taxpayers were paying. 'Let us, therefore, stand no nonsense from the Dutch or the French. In the end, they may well have cause to be grateful to us.'156 The French insisted that the Viet Minh were 'pirates and bandits', Brain wrote. But that was not true: 'they are shutting their eyes to the fact that Annamite independence movements have existed for some 80 years and have broken out in violent forms more than once, only to be driven underground by the use of the harshest measures of suppression.' Deux coups de fusil (a couple of shots) would not do. The

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French had been kicked out by the Japanese, and the Vietnamese had tasted power.157 In London the Foreign Office continued to urge the speedy provision of French troops.158 The idea that France should make a statement of policy, taken up by the COS, might be considered. The declaration of 24 March was liberal: now the French might say how it would be effected. 'But we shall have to go carefully in any suggestions of this sort', Bennett wrote, 'if we are not to become involved in the affairs of Indo-China more than we desire.'159 Ideally the Foreign Office wanted it all over quickly. The problem that had not been foreseen must be promptly solved, lest the British be drawn in. That, it was clear, was undesirable, so far as the involvement of troops was concerned, but it was also undesirable to become involved in the making of policy. The British wanted to see other powers pursuing what they considered a liberal colonial policy, but, though Mountbatten found it 'heart-breaking to have to leave the political control to other nations when we are really in military control',160 they did not want to be seen pressing it on them. That might be counter-productive. It might also place on Britain an enduring commitment and the possible responsibility of failure. General Slim, C-in-C ALFSEA, shared the Foreign Office appraisal. He outlined the position in Netherlands India as well as in Indo-China, for there were similarities: the development of nationalist movements; the lack of realism among the resident European populations; the large Japanese forces not yet disarmed or concentrated; the lack of forces other than the British or British-Indian troops, themselves in limited numbers. French Indo-China had one distinctive feature: the Chinese occupation north of 16°, 'which is, with American encouragement, violently hostile to France'. There were unfortunate consequences: the clashes in Saigon; the reliance on Japanese troops for law and order; the risk 'that through some provocative action by irresponsible French or Dutch elements there may be a large scale native rising against Europeans'. Slim thought the directives he had been receiving rather contradictory. Lawson insisted on the original instructions, that the main aim was to disarm the Japanese and evacuate prisoners-of-war without getting involved against nationalist movements. 'At the same time, we were to work in the closest accord with Dutch and French authorities and to make them responsible for the general internal security.' This was to be achieved by holding key areas, while Allied forces controlled the areas outside. But the British could not even control the key areas, and if French or Dutch troops were to be used to extend those areas, there would be 'clashes' unless the situation improved 'immensely'. At present the British were unpopular with the Vietnamese and Indonesians because their object seemed to be to re-impose colonial rule; and they

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were unpopular with their Allies because they did so little to restore 'law and order', identified by the French and Dutch with that very rule. 'The real and underlying danger is that the situation may develop so that it can be represented as a West versus East set-up.' The arrival of French and Dutch forces must be speeded up, and Indo-China and Indonesia removed from SEAC, 'so that everything that happens in them will be the responsibility of their own governments'. To 'tide over' the period before those forces arrived, 'every means should be used to impress on the, I fear, somewhat unrealistic Governments of France and Holland, the need for conciliation and for the honest offer of a reasonable measure of Self-Government. This I regard as of equal importance to the early arrival of their forces.' The troops should be well disciplined and led, and some of the more diehard officials transferred.161 Only in his political suggestion did Slim appear to differ from Bennett: pressing the French and the Dutch on self-government had implications he did not set out. Neither covered a point Mountbatten had made. If the European forces were delayed and the British/British-Indian forces remained even after prisoners-of-war and internees had been removed, it would be even harder to counter the view that the forces were there to restore colonialism. On that Indian opinion was sensitive.162 On 1 October Brain had opened a meeting between the British and the Viet Minh. On behalf of the British government, he had stressed it was neutral, that it did not aim to restore France by force, that it did not recognise changes of sovereignty effected by force during the war, that the UN aimed at developing self-government. On behalf of Gracey, he urged the Viet Minh representatives to meet the French and proffered 'mediation'. Gracey agreed that he would send a representative to the discussions. The Viet Minh agreed on a cease-fire, to take effect on 2 October.163 A meeting followed, with Britain present, on 3 October.164 Brain also saw Pham Ngoc Thach, the leading Viet Minh negotiator, and advised him that the movement should aim, not at immediate independence, but at a promise of eventual self-government.165 The talks did not prosper and the truce was broken. Brain's successor, E. W. Meiklereid, thought 'that we shall now be accused of backing French Imperialism, b u t . . . no other course was possible if the Allied troops were to carry out their task, and enable us to hand over to the French as soon as possible and let them tackle their own problem . . .'166 Leclerc was to tell Mountbatten 'Your General Gracey has saved French Indo China'.167 At the end of January he left Saigon to shouts of Vive Gracey.168 Indo-China was withdrawn from SEAC early in March.169 By this time the French were more or less in control of the Cochin-Chinese cities. 'What would have been the history of Vietnam if the British . . . had not made certain that

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the French would take over, below the 16th parallel, before Christmas Day 1945?'170 British Pacific Fleet headquarters had sent Lieut. Col. A. G. TrevorWilson to Hanoi, and Commander Simpson-Jones to Haiphong. General Leclerc acknowledged their assistance in securing the Franco-Chinese agreement.171 In the north the Viet Minh were, of course, far stronger than in the south and had indeed been a source of support for the southern movement. But on 28 February 1946 the Chinese and French reached an agreement by which the latter agreed to withdraw their occupation forces in return for the surrender of the French concessions in China itself;172 and this prompted the government of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRVN) to compromise with the French. Negotiations were conducted with Jean Sainteny, representing Admiral d'Argenlieu, the High Commissioner for Indo-China, and Raoul Salan, the military commander, based in the citadel where 5,000 disarmed French troops were concentrated. Under the Ho Chi Minh-Sainteny agreement of 6 March, France recognised the Republic of Vietnam as a free state, part of Indo-China and the French Union, while the uniting of the three ky, Tonkin, Annam and Cochin-China, was to be the subject of a referendum, and there would be negotiations over the status of IndoChina and its relationship with foreign states.173 French troops then entered Hanoi. Meiklereid thought that the agreement was more liberal than expected, and that the first reaction of the local French population would be 'consternation'.174 At the Foreign Office, C. M. Anderson thought that 'the French have done a very wise thing by recognising the Viet Nam Republic'. The agreement was likely to stand if 'the extreme Annamite nationalists' abided by Ho's leadership, the French military were 'conciliatory', and the departing Chinese did not play up 'Annamite nationalism'.175 In Paris, however, the Colonial Ministry made it clear that France wanted to retain a range of powers.176 When Ho Chi Minh sought British recognition of the DRVN as a free state, the Foreign Office decided it was premature, in view of the prospective FrancoVietnamese negotiations.177 In Paris Philippe Baudet informed Cooper that foreign affairs would be conducted as a federal matter. Ho was thus told that his message had been received, but Britain could not take cognisance of it when the status of the Vietnamese republic had still to be defined.178 The Foreign Office remained rather optimistic, however. Bennett told Francfort of the French embassy 'that taking it all round the whole settlement seemed a most successful one'.179 In the Western Department of the Foreign Office, J. Wilson suggested that Indo-China was 'one of the

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only places in the French Empire where a progressive and liberal policy is being successfully pursued (though somewhat hampered by diehard colonists and extreme elements among the military).'180 Consul-general Meiklereid visited the north at the end of March. He was impressed by Salan and Sainteny, but apprehensive about their prospective absence: their substitute, Valluy, lacked 'the subtlety to deal with a difficult and delicate situation which may arise in Hanoi at any moment'. Salan and Sainteny believed the accord could work. The French civilians Meiklereid met were of the reverse opinion. 'The first feeling of elation at the arrival of the French has now been replaced by one of dumb amazement at what they term the weakness shown on the part of the French military authorities, who they expected had come to reinstate the status quo.' Their distrust of the Annamites seemed to be 'ineradicable'. With Sainteny's agreement Meiklereid called informally on Ho Chi Minh, accompanied by Trevor-Wilson. 'To my question of whether he was satisfied with the provisional convention he replied that it depended on whether the French were prepared to carry out their side of the bargain, regarding which he regretted to say he was at the moment in some doubt.' D'Argenlieu, Ho thought, could be trusted, but not perhaps some of his collaborators. Moreover, though the agreement stipulated a cessation of hostilities, the French were continuing 'mopping-up' in the south. Ho had suggested he send a delegation to Cochin-China, to explain the situation, 'but this had not been agreed to'. That seemed to confirm that the French were encouraging separatism in Cochin-China. Meiklereid said that there was some separatist feeling in any case. Ho 'admitted that, particularly economically, there had always been a certain friction between the people of Cochinchina and those of the Tonkin, but he regarded this as a family squabble which should be ignored in the face of the political question at stake'. He was anxious for advice and assistance from the French, the British, the Chinese, but it must be done in a spirit of cooperation. He feared that the appointment of a French High Commissioner might 'entail the superimposition of French sovereignty, and not French co-operation'. The President was 'very knowledgeable' on India, Meiklereid noted, and 'hoped that Great Britain would continue to remain in the van in her assistance to peoples who were fighting for their freedom'.181 Meiklereid did not consider agreement impossible, but the negotiations on both sides would be 'subject to considerable pressure and criticism from their own people'. He believed that the French should concentrate on Cochin-China, 'where, after all, their main commercial interests lie and where the native population, in their own interests, are likely to prefer an amenable French control to being dictated to by their

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northern brethren'. In the north, 'the French are likely to be accused, and possibly with some foundation, that what they have given with one hand they propose to take back with the other'. They would do better to look after the interests of their nationals in the economic sphere, and leave the Vietnam government with 'the responsibility for the full administration of the territory'. That would encourage Ho Chi Minh to look to them for advice.182 In that suggestion, the consul-general hardly took sufficient account of Ho's insistence that Cochin-China was part of Vietnam, let alone of French aspirations. At the Foreign Office optimism continued and a comparison was made with the Dutch in Indonesia. 'The wisdom and restraint shown by the French authorities including the French military commander, are unhappily not being reproduced by their Dutch counterparts in Java', Gordon Whitteridge wrote. 'So far', Wilson-Young agreed, 'the French seem to have handled a difficult situation with skill and restraint.' Would that bear fruit in the negotiations?183 Troops and talks in Indonesia

In Indonesia the position seemed rather different. 'Britain now finds herself confronted in an acute form with the problem of maintaining friendly co-operation with the Dutch without putting herself into antagonism with the general cause of nationalism in Asia', ran a Foreign Office paper drafted in December 1945. It presciently added: 'this problem may continue to be a serious one after the British forces have been withdrawn.'184 The comparison between French Indo-China and Indonesia had, of course, been in the minds of the British well before this. The instructions given to British forces had been similarly inadequate, the circumstances they faced not dissimilarly intractable. The attempts to deal with the problems that resulted took place over the same period of time. They were dealt with in different ways; in part because of personalities, in part because the Netherlands was a less significant power than France. The Indonesian Republic had been proclaimed, if that was the word,185 by Sukarno on 17 August 1945, two days after the Japanese admission of defeat, a fortnight before Ho Chi Minh's proclamation and the formal surrender. The Dutch, moreover, had been liberated after the French, only in spring 1945, as against August 1944. Their colonial administration had been displaced less recently than the French, and though they retained the view that they could, as pre-war, handle the nationalist movements, they, like their allies, were poorly informed about developments during the occupation.186 No Dutch forces were available at the time of the surrender, and Dutch shipping was part of

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the Allied pool. A staged 'liberation' and installation of civil administration would have been better for the Dutch. Starting later, too: as J. H. A. Logemann, Minister for Overseas Territories, taking a rather narrow view, put it.187 In some sense that was illustrated by subsequent events. For its part, 'in order to present the Republic as a fait accompli to the Allies and the rest of the world, the first Republican cabinet's top priority was to demonstrate its authority over an orderly population'.188 Not unlike that of the Viet Minh, its strategy was 'one of going over the heads of the Dutch to appeal directly to the Allies for recognition'.189 Both the Dutch and the Republicans sought the backing of the British. The British preferred compromise. The prime tasks of the Allied forces were as set out in respect of IndoChina: the release of prisoners-of-war and the concentration and disarming of Japanese troops; and they involved the same questions. How far were they responsible for law and order? How far should they deal with the powers-that-be? How far were they to facilitate the return of the former colonial rulers? The COS directive to Mountbatten made Netherlands India a lower priority than the reoccupation of British territories and the dispatch of forces for Indo-China and Siam. Forces were to be sent first to Java, then to Sumatra, the task being to accept the surrender of Japanese forces and 'to prepare for the eventual handing over of this country to the Dutch civil authorities'. A bilateral Civil Affairs agreement, drawn up on the European model, envisaged that the Indies government would resume full responsibility for civil administration as soon as possible.190 Discussions at Randy early in September 1945 had been largely on administrative questions. Van Mook, now Lieutenant Governor-General, had, however, urged that it was essential to avoid any recognition, even de facto, of the so-called Republic, a 'puppet regime', a Tast-minute organisation'.191 Mountbatten was not prepared to issue such a statement himself, and suggested that the Dutch government be asked to do so.192 The Dutch government left it to Van Mook's discretion.193 The situation was not as expected. The Dutch at first sought to 'deny the new reality'. Mountbatten developed a policy which he thought 'consistent with his Directive and which he thought his own government would support'.194 His own views on the way to handle nationalists had been evident in Burma, where he had dealt mildly with 'collaborators', and they were quite different from those of the Dutch. Gracey's action in Saigon he had not cared for and Laurens van der Post and Lady Mountbatten suggested that in the weeks since the surrender the Indonesian nationalist movement, puppet or not in origin, had become more real. Carrying out the task set by the COS needed the collaboration of the nationalists, he concluded.195 Lawson declared that Britain's commit-

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ment to its Allies did not extend to fighting the people ofJava and IndoChina.196 He later denied saying Britain should not intervene in Java.197 But he was indicating that Gracey's action was not to be seen as a precedent.198 Sir Philip Christison was appointed Force Commander at short notice. Mountbatten's directive, influenced by experience in Indo-China, told him to take up key positions in Batavia and Surabaya and to control Japanese forces; to disarm and concentrate them; and to succour and evacuate prisoners-of-war and internees. Full authority would be exercised only in key areas. Outside them responsibility would rest with the Dutch authorities. Any requests for assistance from them were to be referred to headquarters unless urgently needed on grounds of humanity. 'You will do everything possible consistent with carrying out your objectives to avoid clashes with the local population and to refrain from interfering in political matters.'199 Mountbatten also urged Charles van der Plas, Dutch representative with the Allied Command, to open talks even with Sukarno,200 and he urged Van Mook to meet the Indonesian leaders. Van Mook was prepared to do so, so long as that did not imply recognition of the so-called republic.201 The only way for the Dutch to control the Indies, Mountbatten stressed, was to negotiate with the leaders, 'as the recent experience of British policy in Burma has shown'.202 It was an approach Van der Plas, always on the lookout for 'possibilities', was prepared to adopt.203 Christison had virtually recognised the republic, Van Mook claimed.204 A report from Singapore had quoted him as saying that the Indonesian government would be expected to continue administration outside the areas occupied by British forces; that no Dutch were included in the landing because they would be opposed; that he intended to meet Indonesian leaders and say why British forces were coming; and that he would bring Dutch representatives and Indonesians together in a round table conference, which the Dutch had so far declined to do. Mountbatten instructed Christison to correct this. SEAC recognised only the Netherlands government; Dutch forces were coming as soon as they were able; a Dutch representative would be present when he saw the leaders; and the Dutch representative in Batavia, Van der Plas, said he intended to meet all the Indonesian leaders. At a meeting, at which Lawson was present, a Dutch representative insisted, Dening reported, that the Allies, including the British, should treat the Indonesian republicans as collaborators. Dening thought that any difference of view should be ironed out at the highest level. Van Mook's draft proclamation declared the republic illegal and 'showed every intention of taking a strong line'. But British forces were 'going in first (and in no great strength)', and Dening thought that the Dutch

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should be asked not to take any action that would complicate or endanger their position. 'The Dutch, on the other hand, seem to feel an early exhibition of the mailed fist will cause Indonesian independence movement to collapse.' In Dening's view, non-intervention was 'the only safe course to pursue both from the point of view of our position in the Far East and of world opinion'.205 The Dutch representative was a naval officer, Captain J. P. H. Perks. Slim said there were two courses: to negotiate; or to show strength, then relax. Perks said 'experience of 3 hundred years' had shown the latter to be the 'most suitable' in the Indies.206 Lawson told Christison that the British government's policy was 'not to get embroiled in the problems of Dutch colonial rule in the NEF. The British and Indian troops were not to be used to help re-establish colonial rule. 'I was to hold the ring and let the Dutch and Indonesians argue out the future', but permitted to use good offices to bring them together for talks.207 These views were not quite consistent, of course. Encouraging talks was not the same as non-intervention, as the Foreign Office recognised in respect of Indo-China. In London the Dutch ambassador and the Minister of Overseas Territories regretted that SACSEA had urged Van der Plas to enter discussions with the so-called republic: nothing should be done 'to bolster up the morale ofJapanese-supported Quislings'. They also urged that SACSEA should try to maintain order, disarm Sukarno's supporters, and assist the restoration of the Dutch possessions.208 The Foreign Office was not unsympathetic. Wilson-Young believed that Mountbatten should be instructed to meet Van Mook's requests for help as far as practicable, given 'the fine Dutch war record in the Far East', the utilisation of Dutch shipping in the Allied pool, and SACSEA's general responsibility for maintaining law and order. Bennett agreed. 'The Dutch stood by us in 1940-1 when things were black in the Far East and were we now by inactivity to favour the schemes of these people who have been collaborating with the Japanese we should do great harm to Anglo-Dutch relations.'209 The Joint Planning Staff indicated that the policy was to occupy key areas, 'and to leave Allied forces to re-establish the authority of their Governments in the remainder . . . in due course'. The current forces could not do more. Sending more untrained Dutch troops would not help; sending more British troops would affect other commitments.210 The Chiefs of Staff determined to consult Mountbatten. Dening regretted that the Dutch government had disavowed Van der Plas' approach to the Indonesian leaders. The Dutch, like the French, should be aware that SEAC was 'in a very precarious position' and the Supreme Allied Commander had to take what measures he saw fit to maintain law and order. Nor should the Dutch and French take steps prejudicial to the forces in Southeast Asia. It was not clear that meeting

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the resistance leaders involved a commitment, and the French had done so in Saigon. Dening concluded 'that the Dutch and French believe that the only way to regain their territories is to use force against the Resistance Movements'. At present, however, the liability was British and it would be 'most unwise' to adopt such a course at least before the French and Dutch themselves had sufficient force, and before it was possible 'to separate the wheat from the chaff and . . . determine dispassionately who is at heart a traitor and who is only a misguided patriot'. Again, the colonial rulers would be 'well advised to proceed very cautiously in their return to territories owned by them and be prepared to be approached by all the population in an entirely new spirit'. Britain must also take care not to prejudice its own position and to use influence with the French and the Dutch 'to ensure that they do not imperil the general position of European powers in the Far East'. The emphasis should perhaps be on maintaining law and order, rather than on non-intervention. 'At the same time if we are not careful it will be only too easy for the French and the Dutch to panic us into measures which will commit us irretrievably . . .'211 Slim agreed with Dening over the Indies as over Indo-China.212 So indeed did Wilson-Young.213 Bennett also told the Dutch ambassador that repressive action might only endanger Dutch internees in the interior. But Sargent thought the Dutch had grounds for complaint.214 Mountbatten argued that, to carry out his present objective, he could operate from Batavia and Surabaya alone, maintaining law and order and passing through Dutch forces to maintain law and order in the rest ofJava. He would have to rely on the Japanese outside the key areas, and success would depend on the Dutch attitude to the Indonesians. If he were to take over responsibility for law and order throughout the Indies, an agreement between the Dutch and the Indonesians was essential. Without it, and assuming the republic had to be suppressed, he would need two divisions and an armoured brigade, naval and air support.215 The Joint Planners stuck to their original view: change of policy would require more forces, and Auchinleck was against using Indians. Increasing forces would also increase the risk of involvement and, if the independence movement resisted, the maintenance of law and order and its suppression would become 'indistinguishable'.216 This view was endorsed by the COS.217 But the Foreign Office criticised it. How was the surrender of the Japanese to be effected? What of the internees in the interior? 'If we bring in Dutch troops prematurely and pass them through the key areas to maintain law and order throughout the rest of Java, we have the responsibility for their subsequent actions; and if they get into difficulties with the Indonesians it will not be easy to refuse to help them.' It would be difficult to defend treating the Indies problem

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in a way that contrasted with the treatment of the Indo-China problem. The Foreign Office - where E. N. van Kief fens had made further representations218 - suggested that British troops should be increased, on condition that the Dutch issued a statement on their intentions in respect of the 1942 broadcast, that SACSEA or His Majesty's government itself issued a statement defining the British role, and that the movement of Dutch troops be accelerated.219 Attlee doubted if British policy could become more ambitious.220 The same day Mountbatten met the Dutch officials. He regretted the repudiation of Van der Plas. The latter complained that his position had been undermined by reports of Christison's statement to the press. Admiral Helfrich and Van Mook urged that forces be sent into the interior. Mountbatten replied that he would have to get the British government's permission to exceed his present objective. This, he said, he was unlikely to get unless he could offer 'concrete proofs that real efforts had been made by the Netherlands authorities in Java to reach some form of agreement with the Indonesian Republic, so that his action would not lead to bloodshed'. Van Mook did not feel 'that he could run the risk of Dutch prestige . . . being further lowered by making public promises and starting arranging for conferences before sufficient strength to back his promises had arrived and while he was unable to offer protection to any Republicans of moderate outlook who might be willing to come and talk with him'. Mountbatten reiterated his view and pointed to Burma, where he had decided to treat Aung San as a patriot not a traitor, and where the British government had promised elections and dominion status. He agreed that, as in Burma, the offer of conversations should be backed by force. The conversations should include Sukarno and Hatta, the Vice-President. Van Mook said he could not deal with Sukarno. Finally - after the SAC had worked on him and Helfrich 'like mad throughout dinner' - it was agreed to propose that his government be asked to leave him a free hand.221 Mountbatten conveyed the outcome to London.222 Alongside Mountbatten's recommendations Dening again telegraphed the Foreign Office. The Dutch spirit was too 'die-hard and uncompromising': many Dutchmen were convinced that 'shooting is the cure'. The 1942 broadcast should be amplified: if dominion status were intended, that should be stated, with some indication of the length of the tutelary period and the process. Any declaration the Dutch make should avoid revenge or reprisal. Their government 'should give us a solemn undertaking not to undertake a repressive policy as soon as they are in sufficient strength to do so when such action would be unpardonable and would involve Great Britain in very serious trouble not only in the Far East but possibly throughout the world'. Dening thought the

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independence movement could be 'handled', but the Dutch attitude was not encouraging.223 Attlee and Bevin thought Dening's view 'authoritative'.224 Slim had pointed to Britain's difficult position between nationalists and colonial powers. Dening's call for a solemn undertaking pointed the same way. But the government now embarked on the policy to which both the talks with Van Kleffens and Mountbatten's discussions led: offering more British force if there were more Dutch talk. 'It must be clearly recognised that the Indonesians can only be persuaded to attend political discussions and to agree to reasonable terms if the alternative of force is made evident to them.'225 The risk was that the Dutch would avoid a conclusion until they found collaborators with whom they were really prepared to negotiate. Were the Dutch honest in taking the offer? Could it do other than alienate the nationalists? The policy was certainly persistently pursued in the coming months. The Chiefs of Staff agreed with Mountbatten's recommendation. An additional division would be needed, and the viceroy's authority to use Indian troops to maintain law and order. Dutch troops would be concentrated elsewhere and trained.226 'A statement by General Christison that he had been given authority to use the forces at his disposal to maintain law and order, if necessary, would probably not result in any further commitment beyond that already incurred, by the very presence of our forces in Java.' Attlee agreed, 'provided it was clearly understood that the despatch of additional forces did not involve us in a commitment to clear up the situation in the whole of Java'.227 The Prime Minister had a discussion with the Dutch ambassador, who again opposed talks with Sukarno. Logemann had got the Dutch Cabinet to agree to talks, but not with Sukarno.228 Talking to Sukarno, the ambassador, Michiels, compared with talking to Quisling. Attlee suggested that not including him in the talks risked putting him 'on a pedestal', and wondered if he were not now 'moderate and losing control to the extremists'. The ambassador thought him 'the most extreme'. Michiels wondered why sufficient troops were unavailable and why Indo-China was preferred over the Indies. He complained that the British were not fulfilling their obligations. Attlee said Britain could not assume 'an unlimited liability': it would 'try to safeguard the internees and to give the best opportunity for re-establishing the Dutch in the Netherlands East Indies within the limits of the forces available . . .'229 Some members of the Defence Committee wanted to make talking to Sukarno a condition for Christison's announcement on law and order. The Chief of Air Staff, Portal, suggested giving Mountbatten authority to delay the meeting, or allowing the meeting to proceed in Sukarno's absence but delaying the announcement unless it was successful. Attlee

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liked this. The disadvantage of too strong a line with the Dutch now was that the British might be overtaken by events. 'The presence of British forces in Java committed us to take action to restore the situation in emergency.' The role of British forces, however, was to disarm the Japanese, secure internees, hold key points till Dutch forces could be introduced.230 Mountbatten compared the position in the Indies with that in Burma. There he had been told to deal only with established leaders, but insisted on dealing with Aung San and Than Tun. Yet that had not inflated the claims of the provisional government: 'it has never again been mentioned'. The Dutch government needed to sacrifice some of its national dignity and prestige if it wished to retain the Indies. In the meantime, while it had the military responsibility, Britain should determine the policy.231 His Majesty's government, SAC was told, had decided in principle to send the 26th British Indian Division to Java. The Dutch government was being told that it was being done in the confidence that its policy was to relieve tension. If the talks could be held without Sukarno, they could go ahead. If not, telegraph, and the British government would again bring the matter up.232 On 17 October Attlee told the House of Commons that while it did not wish to become involved in the affairs of non-British territories, the government had 'a strong moral obligation towards our Dutch allies as the sovereign power until they are in a position to resume control', and law and order were essential to the fulfilment of military tasks, in particular the safety of internees.233 Called back from Siam, Dening met the Indonesian leaders, including Sukarno as well as Hatta. He made it plain that Britain recognised Dutch sovereignty. Law and order had to be preserved. He hoped that Indonesians would strive for their legitimate aspirations by orderly processes and pointed out that Dutch reforms were designed to meet those aspirations. Any other course would lead to the use of force.234 At the same time, the Dutch were urged to be more forthcoming. 'The Dutch', Bennett told the ambassador, 'were continually pressing for firm action on our part. But we had now made our attitude quite clear and it was clearly necessary that the Dutch on their side should state clearly the steps which they were prepared to take to implement the broadcast of December 1942.'235 Dening stressed that the Dutch should avoid force, though those in the East were 'dangerously neurotic and "trigger happy"'. The Indonesia of 1945 was not pre-war Indonesia. The Japanese did not fail entirely: 'they took advantage of existing nationalist aims. Nor will they necessarily consider that defeat has entirely blasted their hopes, for what could offer better prospects for the future than a series of embryo States in the Far East opposed in principle to the West yet incapable of self development without the aid of some greater force

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(which the Japanese would hope ultimately to supply again themselves).'236 The 49th Brigade, introduced into Surabaya, clashed with republican forces, and Christison called on Sukarno to stop the fighting. Subsequently General A. E. W. S. Mallaby was killed. An informal meeting between Van Mook and Sukarno followed on 31 October. This was, however, followed by a statement from the Dutch government, denouncing Van Mook for negotiating with Sukarno.237 Three weeks of bitter fighting followed.238 In some sense, the changed situation might yet promote the settlement. Additional forces were authorised.239 They were still seen, however, as prompting negotiation. While the Dutch realised that the nationalist movement had to be taken seriously, more moderate nationalists might become concerned about the possibilities and implications of violence. Sjahrir set out his view in the pamphlet Our Struggle, published early in November.240 'Indonesia's fate ultimately depends on the fate of AngloSaxon capitalism and imperialism.' Its power must not be mobilised behind the Dutch. Indonesians should aim to increase world confidence 'that we are capable of disciplined ordering of our state and nation'. He also pointed out that the Dutch had ruled the Indies since the early nineteenth century 'by favour of the English'.241 Dutch proposals of 6 November did not go much beyond the 1942 speech. But on 14 November the Sjahrir Cabinet was installed.242 Sjahrir impressed Van Mook, also Van Asbeck, sent to the Indies by Logemann, all members, like Van der Plas, of the pre-war 'neo-ethical' Stuw group.243 The much-heralded formal meeting between Van Mook and the leadership at last took place on 17 November.244 Further meetings followed. But Van Mook left for the Netherlands without anything concrete.245 Suggesting that two of the tasks his forces had originally been set - the surrender of the Japanese and the relief of the internees - were on the way to completion, Mountbatten asked if they were to remain.246 There was a risk that British forces would find themselves committed to a policy of restoring Dutch rule by force. If the British did not help the Dutch to regain their sovereignty in Java, the Joint Planners argued, they would not be able to do that within the next two years, if at all, and Java would become a native state. That would not only affect Britain's relations with the Dutch, but those with India, Ceylon, Burma, and Malaya. Moreover, Indonesians were clearly not capable of self-rule. Imposing Dutch rule, however, would require four divisions, perhaps six, including Indians, and it presented the greater difficulties. Meanwhile a definite decision was needed: 'the longer our policy remains uncertain, the more deeply we become committed in Java.'247 Portal suggested an intermediate option.248 The Joint Planners took up the idea of concentrating on West

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Java. This would permit operations into Central Java to collect prisonersof-war, assist moderates, and enable the Dutch to establish themselves behind British forces. 'By establishing peace and order in this part of the country, it is to be hoped that the rest of the inhabitants will tire of the Extremists, particularly if we are able to avert famine in the area under our control.'249 Mountbatten also considered holding Surabaya as well, but the planners disagreed.250 The COS resolved on a delay.251 The Defence Committee decided it should be held.252 Sir N. Bland, the British ambassador, told the Dutch Prime Minister, Schermerhorn.253 Bevin coupled this with a new political initiative. Indicating their strategic interest in the area, the Australians had suggested an interAllied commission.254 Mountbatten had made the same suggestion. If the negotiations broke down, he had argued, at least six divisions would be needed 'to subjugate the country sufficiently for the Dutch to take over with a good chance of permanently re-establishing themselves'. The prolonged use of Indian troops would concern the viceroy, and Australia had expressed a strong interest in the matter. If the US were not prepared to take part in active operations, he believed that a political settlement would have to be imposed on the Dutch and Indonesians through the arbitration of Britain and Australia, in consultation with India.255 When Macmahon Ball, Australia's newly-appointed representative, suggested some form of UN action, the consul-general, Walsh, replied 'that he rather suspected that that might be what we would come to in the long run'. Better to go for it now, Ball thought.256 All parties looked to the US. The Dutch had complained in Washington that 'the British did not have the forces, or apparently the will, to do anything about the Indies or to help the Dutch do anything'.257 The Indonesians had enquired of consul-general, Walter Foote, about mediation.258 Bevin told the Defence Committee on 16 November that Britain could not go beyond its current tasks without American support: a tripartite Anglo-Dutch-American conference might be proposed. 'Once the Americans realised that the trouble was largely the result ofJapanese activities, they would be more interested in the problem and their association with us in solving it would have a big effect.'259 American interest had so far been limited. On 20 October, John C. Vincent had told the Foreign Policy Association in New York that the administration hoped for an early agreement between the French and the Annamites, the Dutch and the Indonesians, and would be prepared, if requested, to lend assistance in reaching peaceful agreements.260 F. C. Everson dropped a hint with A. L. Moffat at the State Department that the British looked for support in seeking a peaceful settlement.261 Late in November the Americans asked if they should tell the Dutch that they hoped for continued discussions.262 Bennett was against offering

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mediation: it would offend the Dutch and encourage the Indonesians. But a public statement might help. American opinion would not accept mediation anyway, Paul Mason added.263 Bevin's new initiative took a bilateral form. He decided to suggest an Indonesian-Dutch meeting under a British chairman. This he described to the Defence Committee as 'a three-part Commission', including a British mediator.264 He mentioned it to the Dutch ambassador 'off the record' on 10 December. It would help the Dutch and reduce criticism in the UK.265 Bland suggested that the Dutch Prime Minister should visit London while Van Mook was in Europe. Sjahrir, it was reported, was ready to talk.266 The US issued their statement favouring an early resumption of conversations on 19 December.267 The British thought all this favoured real negotiations. That would enable them to withdraw, particularly desirable because of the embarrassment of using Indian troops. The Dutch view was different: the Dutch should be stronger before such steps were taken.268 Anglo-Dutch differences were apparent in the talks held at Chequers after Christmas. On the political side, Van Mook had suggested the development of a Netherlands-Indonesian partnership within a fixed period of time. Indonesia should have an army and representation in the UN. It should also be federal, an idea he developed mainly because he favoured recognising the republic while the Dutch concentrated on more amenable Borneo and Maluku.269 The Schermerhorn Cabinet preferred an Indonesian Commonwealth, with a Dutch Governor-General, as a partner in the kingdom, the structure being reviewed after 25 years.270 The attitude the British government had hitherto adopted, the FO brief for Attlee ran, was that 'the political problem in Java' was 'one for settlement between the Dutch and Indonesians'. The presence of military forces in pursuance of the tasks allocated by MacArthur had, however, led to British involvement in the wider political issues. 'In view of our moral obligations to the Dutch we clearly cannot take the line that our forces will withdraw as soon as their military tasks are completed; such a course in view of the inadequacy of the Dutch forces to take over from us would virtually mean the loss of Java.' If Britain accepted the additional commitment represented by the retention of West Java and Surabaya until the Dutch had sufficient forces to take over, 'we are entitled to ask the Dutch . . . to go to the limit in meeting the legitimate aspirations of the Indonesians and thus to make a political settlement possible'. Van Mook should go back with wide powers, and he should be able to offer a review in two years. Bevin had mentioned to the Dutch ambassador the suggestion of a conference under the aegis of a British chairman or conciliator of high standing. Action against extremists in western Java, due to commence at the end of December, would, the

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Dutch should be told, enable the conversations 'to proceed with far greater prospects of success than was possible when the Indonesian Moderate leaders were under constant threat and intimidation'.271 At the Chequers conference, however, the Dutch rather took the initiative. The governments, Schermerhorn insisted, must have 'a joint policy': only then would it be possible for law and order to be restored and conditions created for rehabilitation and for the economic and political development of all Indonesians. Van Mook complained that locally the British took too little account of the Indies government, too much of the republic. Supporting Sjahrir would be useless unless the extremists had been dealt with: it would mean only 'a state of temporary tranquillity, with the extremists waiting until the British had withdrawn before making a renewed bid for power'. Attlee stressed 'that British troops would only remain in Java long enough to see a settlement reached between the two parties, and not in order to restore Dutch rule regardless of the wishes of the Indonesians'. Logemann asked why Dutch troops could not be sent to Surabaya. Attlee said that they were 'not sufficiently trained or sufficiently numerous'. Van Mook insisted that the 'extremists', who wanted independence, would prevail over the 'moderates', who realised they needed outside help, unless it was plain that the British government intended the Dutch to play a full and equal part in arriving at a political settlement. Conditions should be created under which Sjahrir could feel safe from extremist pressure. 'He could then be squarely faced with the choice of accepting or rejecting the proposals of the Netherlands Government as a basis of negotiation. If he rejected them, it would mean that the extremists had won the day. It was essential, though, that the Netherlands Government had the full support of His Majesty's Government in making these proposals.' The conference said much less about the proposals themselves. These the Dutch had tabled. The intention was that Van Mook should discuss them with Indonesian leaders on his return to Batavia. If they accepted them as a basis, they would be invited to send a delegation to The Hague to discuss them in detail. Van Mook would nominate a Cabinet, half perhaps Indonesian, a people's council would be set up, and delegates would be selected for an empire conference, which would draw up specific legislative proposals. The final approval of the States-General would be required. Schermerhorn insisted, however, that he could not now go home empty-handed, lest his government fall. A communique was agreed upon.272 The two parties were clearly some way apart. Van Mook had hoped that, as a result of a firm policy, 'the moderate part of the intellectuals and the main body of the rural population will come forward in support of law and order and of co-operation with the Dutch'.273 Again the Dutch

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made it clear that they wanted to deal only with 'moderates', and with Sjahrir only if he were moderate, and that they wanted the British to back them against extremists. Indeed they sought a British commitment to their vision of the future. Britain by contrast aimed at negotiations that would produce a compromise, and rather more promptly, so that their troops could be withdrawn. The barrage of Dutch complaints rendered it difficult for Attlee to delimit Britain's aims, and there was no discussion of what the Dutch were actually proposing. The communique represented a compromise between the two approaches. The British government was acquainted, it said, with the 'consistent and liberal policy' of the Dutch, and reaffirmed its obligation to its Dutch allies 'to establish without delay conditions of security' in which the Netherlands Indies government could continue negotiations with 'representative Indonesians'. The two governments agreed that a solution of the political conflict should be regarded as an essential contribution to the completion of the task of liquidating the Japanese occupation, and to this extent as the common concern of the governments and of the Indonesian people. The governments thus concurred in the policy of promoting an understanding between the Dutch authorities and the nationalist leaders.274 The communique tied the British to promoting the political understanding, but it also attempted to limit the scope, and thus also the duration, of their commitment. That was a crucial issue. Dutch forces would not reach 30,000 till late in 1946. If the British withdrew before then - in March, as Mountbatten suggested - the Dutch position would be greatly weakened.275 The pressure from India made Mountbatten's deadline more realistic. Nehru and other Congress leaders had called for the withdrawal of Indian troops.276 The viceroy had opposed the despatch of further Indian troops to Java. Agitation about the Indian National Army and demobilisation would strain loyalty. 'I think it most important that we should not add further strain . . ,'277 'Our problems in India are so serious that I have grave doubts about the use of Indian troops against nationalists', wrote Wavell.278 He was anxious to withdraw Indian troops by the end of March, not so much on account of 'internal security considerations' as 'the fear that the Congress representatives would probably refuse to participate in the Government so long as Indian troops remained in Indonesia'.279 But, despite the impatience of India, the British government could not risk any announcement to this effect immediately after the Chequers talks.280 Concern about India did, however, help to revive the idea of sending a British facilitator. Nothing had been said about this in conference or communique. Mentioning the idea at a meeting with Van Mook on 9 January, Bevin said that the suggestion had been 'overtaken by the

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Chequers decisions'.281 Soon after he decided, however, to send out Sir Archibald Clark Kerr, former ambassador in Moscow, telling the Dutch ambassador that India made his appointment urgent.282 Clark Kerr's instructions as special ambassador were to keep the British government fully informed, and to assist in resolving the political difficulties between the Dutch government and the Indonesian nationalists. Political difficulties had led 'to a heavy and unexpected military commitment which has undesirable consequences both on the man-power situation in this country and in so far as Indian troops form a large proportion of the British forces in the Netherlands East Indies, on the Indian political situation'. A speedy settlement of the political issue was important for the fulfilment of the British government's military tasks and for the peace and welfare of the Indies and of Southeast Asia in general. Clark Kerr was to offer his good offices and be ready to take the chair, if desired, at meetings. The British government thought that the Dutch proposals were 'very liberal' and ought to offer 'a fair and reasonable basis of settlement'.283 The last passage had been inserted as a measure of response to Michiels' wish for an indication that the British thought the Indonesians would be well advised to accept the offer.284 Clark Kerr discouraged Sjahrir's interest in a UN Commissioner, proposed by the Ukraine on 7 February.285 Van Mook told the Australian representative, J. C. R. Proud, that, even if the Dutch terms were not accepted in to to, 'there would be such a body [of] opinion in favour of their acceptance that the "Government" would lose a considerable amount of popular support and that a moderate party would be built up, which would work with the Dutch for implementation of the agreement'.286 The first tripartite meeting was on 12 February.287 The negotiations went slowly. One reason was the challenge to Sjahrir's position. Sukarno and Hatta and most of the government had moved to Yogyakarta early in 1946, and, staying in Jakarta, Sjahrir was more readily accused of being too disposed to compromise.288 Perhaps another reason was that, as Clark Kerr feared, behind Van Mook's sincere desire for a settlement lay the thought 'that in the last resort he will be able sooner or later to shoot his way to peace'.289 The Franco-Annamite formula of 6 March attracted Van Mook's attention.290 He suggested that the republic, for Java, could be a partner in a federative Indonesian Free State, allow the landing of Dutch troops to fulfil Allied tasks, cease hostilities, and join in consultations with representatives of all parts of the Indies about the structure of the state and its relations with the kingdom.291 A counter-proposal from Sjahrir required the recognition of the republic as exercising de facto authority in Java and Sumatra. Sufficient agreement was, however, reached for Van Mook to suggest discussions in The Hague.292

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He kept up the pressure on the British meanwhile, both to secure the admission of Dutch troops, over which they had been very hesitant, and to avert the withdrawal of the Indians, of which Auchinleck had again spoken on 28 February.293 At a conference with Kerr and General Miles Dempsey, who had replaced Christison, he asked three questions. If agreement were reached with Sjahrir, would the British assist in cleaning up 'bands of armed recalcitrants', as he had been given to understand in October and again in December? If negotiations broke down, would the British actively help the Dutch to create a safety zone in West Java? Could the Dutch count on the British government's not withdrawing British forces from Java until the remaining Japanese prisoners had been evacuated? Van Mook also asked if the British would continue to supply arms.294 The Defence Committee on 18 March, in response to a telegram from Mountbatten, considered 'how far we were committed to assist the Dutch in reconquering Java'. Attlee said the tasks had been clearly defined: to collect and evacuate the Japanese and to rescue prisoners-ofwar and internees. 'We had, in addition, gone further than this in endeavouring to create a situation in which discussions between the Dutch and the Indonesians could take place; if there was a breakdown in these discussions, it was in no way incumbent on us to undertake any further commitment in support of the Dutch against the Indonesians.' This should be made clear to Van Mook, 'as otherwise there was a danger that the Dutch might be less ready to come to an agreement with the Indonesians'. Members generally agreed 'particularly in view of the need to withdraw Indian forces from the N.E.I, as soon as practicable'. 'Operations in support of the Dutch were already imposing an undue burden on our resources', Bevin commented.295 The British had earlier moved beyond the ambit of the original instructions, both to help the Dutch, and to speed withdrawal of their forces. The two objectives were consistent only if the Dutch reached an agreement with the Indonesians. The Prime Minister was anxious to ensure that they did not use the British presence to defer rather than promote an agreement. He reasserted the original objectives and insisted that they be made plain to the Dutch. The COS echoed these views. The British should be responsible for Japanese under their control and also for prisoners and internees under their control until the Dutch were ready to take over, but responsibility for the remainder in both cases should be transferred to the Dutch. The policy should be to remove all British troops from Java when the Dutch were in a position to take over the areas they held. That was unlikely to be before November or December 1946. 'Clearing' western Java in the event of the failure of negotiations was ruled out: it would be 'a

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commitment involving the active use of Indian troops against Indonesians, in support of the Dutch over an indefinite period. Moreover, it seems to us that, if the Dutch can rely on us to clear Western Java for them if they do not reach a settlement, their interest in obtaining a settlement may tend to diminish.' Agreement or not, guerrillas would have to be dealt with, but while their troops remained the British should confine themselves to the areas where they were responsible for law and order.296 The Foreign Office was again critical of this kind of approach. It was concerned about its relationship with the Dutch. But its approach was designed not simply to support them but to get them to come to an agreement with the Indonesians. Only on that basis could it reconcile its policy for Europe and its policy for Southeast Asia. The danger was that the policy of supporting the Dutch, with the view to putting them in a position to negotiate with the Indonesians, might come to be, as well as be seen as, a policy of merely supporting the Dutch. The approach the Dutch took - their definitions of 'firmness', of 'moderates', their colonial-style mixture of force and diplomacy, the temptation of the ' deux coups defusiV line - made that a real risk. Bennett felt that the COS recommendations did not cover the problem of the Japanese and the internees. 'Furthermore, we are perhaps under-estimating the effect on our relations with the Dutch if it can be said that we left them in the lurch unjustifiably, or that we relinquished too soon our responsibility for the internees now in our hands.' A breakdown in the negotiations might not be caused by Dutch intransigence, but by Indonesian extremism. 'It must be borne in mind that we may ourselves contribute to this result if we appear to be in too great a hurry to withdraw, regardless of the consequences.' What Van Mook really asked was that the British should hold on to Batavia, Buitenzorg and Bandung and, given the COS view that they must remain responsible for prisoners and internees till the Dutch were ready to take over, the British could say that the use of their troops would be governed by what was necessary to protect internees. This might be expanded on the lines that we could not enter into any commitment for the clearing and consolidation of Western Java; but that we should be prepared if necessary to examine with sympathy proposals for the establishment for a limited period of a safety zone in Western Java within the areas which we now hold. The limited prospect of 'continued help' would not please the Dutch. The ambassador had told Sargent that his government was 'more than ever jumpy and suspicious of our intentions', and he expected a request for another Chequers meeting. 297 Sargent thought the question of

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Britain's policy should again go to the Defence Committee. When it had been decided it should be communicated to the Dutch ministers at another meeting in London.298 Bevin agreed.299 A memorandum for the Defence Committee was prepared along the lines Bennett suggested. It would answer Van Mook's questions by denying any promise to help against recalcitrants if agreement were reached; by offering to consider a safety zone for a limited period if no agreement were made; by consenting only to guarding Japanese until they were evacuated; and by agreeing to continue normal arms supplies.300 At the meeting on 27 March, Bevin wondered 'whether we would be right in saying that if the negotiations broke down we would inevitably withdraw our forces from Java. The negotiations might fail through no fault of the Dutch, and he wondered whether we ought not to leave ourselves some loophole. Moreover the Dutch were worried lest the progressive withdrawal of our forces might lead the Indonesians to procrastinate in the supposition that time was on their side.' Attlee disagreed: 'it had been our policy to hold the ring in Java for the conduct of negotiations, with the intention, if these negotiations should fail, of withdrawing our forces and leaving the Dutch with a foothold in the island. We could not continue to hold the ring while the Dutch marshalled their forces for a reconquest of the island - apart from other considerations the situation would not permit the use of Indian forces for this purpose.' Withdrawal might encourage the Indonesians to procrastinate. But the Dutch were conducting negotiations 'in a very leisurely manner'. The Prime Minister referred to the previous meeting and thought there was no need to bring the Dutch ministers to England again.301 The Dutch protested over troop withdrawals announced on 25 March,302 groundlessly, Attlee declared.303 At Bevin's suggestion, a postponement was agreed to.304 He argued that it would help the negotiations. The idea was perhaps influenced by the telegram from Kerr, reporting Van Mook's interest in the Franco-Vietnamese agreement, which moved the two sides closer together. The Dutch ministers were, moreover, invited to England again. The brief for the Prime Minister did not, however, plan to depart from the views expressed at the Defence Committee. 'The Dutch are now trying to obtain from us a much wider interpretation of our commitments than it has been our intention to accept.' That should not be offered. The Dutch should be very strongly urged to authorise Van Mook to return and conclude an agreement. 'The heavy responsibilities which His Majesty's Government at present carry in the Netherlands East Indies clearly entitle them to press the Dutch Government not to be unreasonable or dilatory in reaching a settlement with the Indonesians on lines which cannot fail to commend

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themselves as reasonable to world opinion and not to rely on His Majesty's Government's support indefinitely.'305 At the meeting Schermerhorn said that agreement could not take the form of a treaty, particularly since the opposition might make it an issue in the Dutch elections due on 17 May. Both parties, however, might issue unilateral declarations to the effect that the Dutch government would propose to the States-General a new constitution based on the proposals. Kerr, now Lord Inverchapel, also present, said that, if the Dutch could accept the word 'Republic', a formula might be acceptable, and Schermerhorn said they would. The movements of British troops were presented mainly as substitutions, given the arrival of Dutch troops: 19,000 British troops would remain till November or December, 'provided the situation in India did not alter for the worse'. The Dutch Prime Minister then reverted to Van Mook's questions. The answer given was more or less along the lines the British had already developed. Bevin said that the British would hold Batavia, Buitenzorg and Bandung, 'as a firm base from which Dutch troops could operate', and he agreed to the supply of equipment, but not to the use of Indian troops to deal with extremists outside the areas the British currently held. 'He pointed out that if we continued to hold these areas, it would free many Dutch troops for further operations against the extremists.'306 Wilson-Young, who had accompanied Kerr, was 'frankly surprised' that the Dutch had agreed so readily to 'what but a short time ago would have been considered extremely radical proposals'.307 Again these talks said little of the content of the proposals. The Indonesians and the Dutch met at St Hubertus Lodge, a country house in the Hoge Veluwe in Gelderland, on 14 April. Schermerhorn submitted a protocol, indicating how far the Dutch government could go in accepting the preliminary agreement. It was not far enough for the Indonesians, who thought they had come to draft, not negotiate. Not only was it to be a protocol not, as in Vietnam, a treaty, the Dutch did not wish to recognise the republic de facto in Sumatra. Nor, as the republicans had expected, was there an arbitration clause.308 The talks came to nothing.309 The Dutch had 'misled' the British government in implying that the agreement was in reach.310 They had mentioned the treaty problem, but not Sumatra. But the chances of a settlement immediately before the Dutch elections were never good. In the 'fluid political situation' in the Netherlands, the Schermerhorn-Drees Cabinet had 'ample reason to shun any conclusive arrangements with the Sjahrir Government'. The Minister of Home Affairs, L. J. M. Beel, one of two Catholics in the Cabinet, observed that you could not talk of the failure of the talks: 'there was as yet no intention to achieve concrete results.'311 Van Mook had thought that an

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agreement might be pushed through. The Cabinet could not risk it, lest it thrust the fence-sitting Catholics completely into opposition and left the newly-founded Labour Party that dominated the Cabinet exposed in the elections.312 Nor, back in the Netherlands, did Van Mook try very hard,313 though later ascribing the lack of 'a large gesture' to 'our national character with its excess of caution and its deficiency of imagination'.314 Malay opposition

Other countries were in the minds of British officials when dealing with Indonesia, and not only India. If the Governor of Burma was concerned lest Dutch liberality should affect his chances of coping with the AFPFL, colonial authorities were concerned about the impact of Indonesian nationalism on Malaya. Malaya was, after all, of great importance to the British economy, particularly as its rubber made it a dollar-earner and the sterling area was short of dollars. Its needs also stimulated Britain's efforts to solve the rice crisis and encouraged it as a result to apply pressure to Thailand. The return of the colonial powers must not be associated with famine. More particularly, Britain wanted to avoid inflation in Malaya, so as to facilitate the revival of rubber exports.315 The planning for Malaya had presumed that there would be a campaign on the peninsula. In that, it was believed, the mainly Chinese Malayan People's Antijapanese Army (MPAJA) would play a significant role, while the Malay sultans and other Malay leaders might be viewed in some degree as collaborators. That reinforced the thrust of the planning, as developed by Gent and his colleagues, in which the sultanates would lose much of their significance and citizenship would be open to all communities. In the event there was no campaign, as the Japanese surrender pre-empted it. There was in fact an interregnum, as a result of MacArthur's insistence that no action be taken until the formal surrender took place on 2 September. Events had not, therefore, prepared the way for the new deal among the communities that the planning envisaged. On the contrary, both the war and the interregnum heightened tensions among them. During the war, the Chinese had for the most part lost their privileged economic position, while the Malays had gained in political experience. Their realms of activity had, moreover, come to overlap, particularly as Chinese people were driven into the countryside, and tension was heightened by assertive MPAJA activities. Communal clashes marked the last months of the occupation, the interregnum, and the early months of British military administration.316 The British faced new problems. And they might not even be able to provide against famine.

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The plans, however, were difficult to change; the full implications of what had in fact taken place were not in any case realised. The new Labour government in London stuck to what its leaders had approved when part of the wartime coalition. The possibility of a change was further diminished when the Malayan Communist Party (MCP), on 25 August, issued a manifesto, stating that its main aim was 'to establish a democratic government in Malaya with an electorate drawn from all races of each state and the anti-Japanese army'.317 As Dening put it, the MCP had 'rather stolen our thunder'.318 The announcement of British policy, so long deferred, could not be further deferred, let alone altered. It was made, in response to an arranged parliamentary question, on 10 October, the day before Sir Harold MacMichael disembarked at Port Swettenham.319 The ground had been prepared by the Deputy Chief Civil Affairs Officer Malaya, H. C. Willan, who had contacted the Malay rulers, removing Japanese appointees he thought were anti-British.320 Over the next few weeks, treaties were made with all the states, though not always easily.321 While Mountbatten favoured the early installation of a governor,322 and the British Military Administration (BMA) was anxious not to continue its unpopular rule, the Colonial Office was keen to take over. The government, wrote Bourdillon, who had accompanied MacMichael, must not miss the opportunity for reform: it was impossible 'to let the old system with its multiplicity of authority, its divided loyalties and its political stagnation, re-establish itself and then to set about changing it'.323 The Cabinet Colonial Affairs Committee sanctioned going ahead, though Pethick-Lawrence worried about the impact on the Indian princes, and Noel-Baker was apprehensive about embarrassing the Dutch, then in some difficulty at home because of their 'very liberal proposals' for the Indies.324 The Cabinet endorsed the scheme, and the White Paper on Malayan Union (Cmd 6724) was published on 22 January.325 At first, indeed, it seemed that there was more opposition in the UK than in Malaya. The aged but still active Sir Frank Swettenham declared that the union proposals were a breach of faith with the Malay rulers and would cause unrest.326 Sir Cecil Clementi was anxious lest Indonesia's troubles should spread to Malaya. 'Much lies dormant which we must desire shall remain so.'327 And Sir George Maxwell even alluded to the possibility of UN intervention.328 The Under-Secretary, Creech Jones, was briefed by Bourdillon to point out: 'We are not forsaking the Malays, but teaching them to stand on their own feet.'329 The old hands had nothing to offer but delay, and the discussion was 'futile', as Maxwell put it.330 In the Commons debate on 8 March, L. D. Gammans attacked MacMichael, but Jones stood by him.331 The government did, however, agree to defer implementing the citizenship order pending local con-

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sultations.332 By this time opposition was developing in Malaya, and citizenship was considered the focus of protest. Dato Onn's call for a Pan-Malaya Malay Congress had been published on 24 January. It opened in Kuala Lumpur on 1 March. The United Malays National Organisation (UMNO) was formed, and the rulers persuaded to boycott the inauguration of the Malayan Union on 1 April.333 On the other hand, the Chinese offered little support. Some conservatives were apprehensive that, with union citizenship, they would lose their nationality.334 Few towkays retained the leadership of their community.335 The Left, on the other hand, were critical of the separation of Singapore from Malaya, and of the undemocratic nature of the legislative and executive councils. Only the Malayan Democratic Union (MDU) was in support.336 On 10 September Raja Vyner of Sarawak had resumed his powers under the 1941 constitution, and he dismissed his nephew Anthony Brooke on 4 October. In the evening he saw Hall and agreed to the cession of Sarawak to the Crown.337 The same day Anthony had forwarded a legal opinion that favoured the independence of Sarawak which the British government had denied338 - and reiterated his opposition to the extension of the Foreign Jurisdiction Act. It would 'deprive a progressive people, politically free for a hundred years, of the full control of their internal affairs'. That was 'a violation of the principles for which the war has been fought', and it was doubtful that it was consistent with the pledges the UK had given 'to those colonies and dependencies which have yet to reach the political maturity and the cherished freedom from centralised imperial control which Sarawak has so long valued and enjoyed'.339 An agreement was, however, made on 24 October,340 and Gerard MacBryan was sent out to secure the agreement of Sarawak leaders.341 'How H.H. [the Raja] could possibly have allowed Gerard to, more or less, mastermind the Cession, passes my belief. For he knew his idiosyncrasies and ways only too well. Evidently they amused him.'342 The proceedings of the MacBryan mission were difficult to defend, and the Colonial Office faced, not only a campaign by Anthony Brooke and the anti-cessionists, but also criticism from eminent authorities like Margery Perham, who suggested a commission of enquiry.343 Bertram Brooke, the Tuan Muda (Anthony's father), heard about it on the BBC: 'as Heir Apparent to a Raj so suddenly declared to be moribund, if not extinct, the tidings came as a severe shock.'344 W. E. Le Gros Clark wrote in the New Statesman: 'In Java there is the gravest unrest, since a powerful section of the native population has expressed disapproval of Dutch administration.' Surely His Majesty's government should restore the 1941 constitution before attempts were made, 'almost certainly against

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the will of the native peoples, to add Sarawak to the Colonial Empire'.345 It was decided that the Raja should visit Sarawak and carry through the cession at properly constituted meetings of the Council Negri and the Supreme Council. In the House of Commons Hall refused to promise a further debate. Questions, however, followed on 13 February and he indicated that he was prepared to consider sending an independent observer. In fact a two-man parliamentary mission was put together, D. R. Rees-Williams and L. D. Gammans, the latter a critic of the Malayan Union policy.346 They were to confirm by independent enquiry whether the Raja's proposal for cession was 'broadly acceptable to the native communities of Sarawak'.347 That would defuse criticism and lend some semblance of international respectability.348 Over North Borneo there was no such difficulty. The Crown agreed to buy out the company on 29 January 1946.349 It became a colony on 15 July 1946 just after the inauguration of Roxas as the first president of an independent Philippines. The Anglo-Siamese Treaty The position of the British in Malaya, and indeed elsewhere in Southeast Asia, was affected by the food shortage at the end of the war. That helped to prompt the setting-up of Killearn's regional organisation. It also influenced Britain's policy towards Thailand. That policy was, however, affected by other considerations, too. Siam had declared war on Britain and taken over British territory. How therefore should Britain treat it post-war? What account should be taken of the views of the US, which did not see itself as at war with Thailand? Two major issues, somewhat connected, were the focus of the AngloThai negotiations at the end of the war: the terms on which the two countries were to be reconciled and the delivery of rice. For the Thais, the former was initially more important than the latter. For the British the latter was really the more important. But their concern with 'prestige' issues like the declaration of war and the acquisition of British territory made it difficult promptly to come to terms with the Thai government. The Americans, distrusting the British, did not promote an early conclusion of the negotiations. They made more of the rice demand than the Thais themselves. Their action helped to make it seem what they thought it was, an act of imperialist oppression, and to transform something that could have been seen as a gesture of reconciliation into an obligation reluctantly accepted and imperfectly fulfilled. Difficult in itself, the concept of a free delivery became impossible to realise: intrinsic economic problems were entangled with and intensified

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by a range of political problems. The intrinsic difficulty of the concept lay to some extent in a misconception. It was rightly assumed that Thailand had a rice surplus, though the amount of it was not agreed. What was sometimes too easily assumed was that this surplus was either in the hands or readily at the disposal of the Thai government. The free delivery of a large amount of rice on the part of the Thai government would in itself raise a number of problems: the revenue would suffer, the ability to import would be diminished, the unloading of stored rice on the market would affect the further production of rice and also the stability of the Thai economy which so much depended on rice production. But if- as was in fact the case - most of the surplus was not in the government's hands, the problems were greater still. The rice would have to be bought by the government, which would run the risk of undermining its finances and adding to the inflation that the war had already brought to Thailand.350 It would have to be bought at as low a price as possible, in order to limit the drain on the treasury and to keep the domestic price within the range of the local population, without discouraging production, at a time, moreover, when imported consumer goods were scarce and sterling assets held in London. There was a risk that holders of stocks - millers or merchants - might retain them, awaiting an improvement in price, or fearing a devaluation, or looking for gold, for dollars, or for consumer goods. Alternatively they might resort to smuggling rice across the frontiers, particularly to Malaya, where the shortfall in supply created a black market that undermined the British attempts to control prices. The British demand for free rice was in the event to be moderated, not only because it provoked Thai and American opposition but also because it inhibited the production and marketing of rice at a time of scarcity. But the change hardly helped, both because it was in itself insufficient, and because of the effects the demand had already had. It was impractical economically as well as politically. On 3 August A. C. S. Adams prepared a brief for the new Secretary of State, Bevin. This pointed to the difference between the British and the Americans, who were suspicious lest Britain tried to establish some kind of control over Siam and 'themselves aspire[d] to guiding Siam politically after the war'. The difference was 'embarrassing', especially as SEAC was a combined command. 'Our hope is that events may allow the policies of the United States and ourselves to be reconciled before Allied troops enter Siam.' The dominions' views were being sought. Then the Cabinet must deal with the question, which related to SEAC's operational needs, and to the possibility that the Japanese might seize complete control, as they had in Indo-China, and precipitate the emergence of the new Siamese government. 'The dealing with this matter is growing very urgent', minuted Bevin. 'Speed up the answers.'351

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The new Siamese government must be 'democratic in character', the Australian government believed; not quite consistently, it added: 'because Siam made and assisted Japan to make war against us, treatment of Siam must be stern'. The two points were to be made consistent, if not practicable, by Allied occupation and control. Pro-Japanese Thais should be arrested. 'We would expect to see Siam pass through a period akin to tutelage, the first stage of which would be the occupation and Allied military control through a Siamese Resistance Government. . .'352 The New Zealand government in general endorsed the Australians' views: 'Siam should be treated as far as possible as an enemy State.'353 T think the anti-Western elements referred to will be discredited anyway unless fresh grievances arise from e.g. Allied military occupation or economic pressure', Adams commented.354 The British government had rejected the kind of tutelage the Australians envisaged, knowing that the Americans would not accept it and recognising that it was hardly in keeping with the relations that had developed with Pridi. The approach of the Japanese surrender overtook the discussion. Bennett introduced the July report to the reconstituted Far Eastern Committee on 12 August. It had been assumed, he said, that a Siamese liberation government would take over and an agreement be made with it. 'This development would presumably not now occur.' Siam was technically at war with Britain. 'It would be difficult however to proceed by way of an armistice owing to the attitude of the United States and also because we were under a certain moral obligation to the Regent of Siam', Pridi, who had been dissuaded earlier from breaking with the Japanese. A fresh initiative was needed, Bennett declared. His idea, however, was that the British should try to reach agreement with the Siamese along the lines of the report so far as its recommendations were practicable, and the committee agreed.355 Dening had been worried that Pridi, as Regent, would declare war, which might precipitate Japanese action and so interfere with the release of prisoners-of-war and the acquisition of rice.356 A memorandum was prepared for the Cabinet. 'If the Japanese surrender materialises it will have overtaken our plans for Siam. It will also place the Siamese Regent in an awkward position since Siam will not have been enabled to play the part in her own liberation which had been anticipated', and would be technically still at war. Unconditional surrender seemed inappropriate. The SOE representative in Bangkok should 'give it as his personal advice to the Regent that the latter would be well advised to make an announcement disavowing his country's declaration of war', repudiating the Japanese alliance, placing his country at the service of the Allies, referring to his earlier wish to act, and offering to send a representative to Kandy to get into touch with the Allies. The message should be sent

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without prior consultation with the dominions or the US: indeed the time factor made that necessary. Later the dominions should be consulted and the US informed of the terms of the Kandy negotiations.357 The proposal, more moderate by far than the Australians', opened up the prospect of prompt negotiations between the British and the Regent. If they could be carried through, the Americans might have little opportunity, even little reason, to interfere, and rice would be secured. But the attempt to pre-empt American intervention evidenced the British secrecy that counterpointed American distrust and was likely to increase it. In fact the British wanted to know the Americans' reaction to their political terms, and the Far Eastern Official Committee soon saw that the military terms needed American approval. It thought that 'there would be advantage, from the point of view of getting the agreement of the Combined Chiefs of Staff to the military terms, to consider whether the British political terms and Allied military and quasi-military terms could be stated separately'. Then these could be presented to the CCS when the political terms were notified to the State Department, and they could be asked to issue a directive to Mountbatten. The committee also decided against a suggestion from the Overseas Reconstruction Committee that more than 1.5 million tons of rice should be provided free: an increase would require going beyond the December crop.358 The day after the Japanese surrender the Regent made a broadcast, stating that the declaration of war on the UK and the US and the UN was contrary to the will of the people, and was null and void. Siam was ready to cooperate fully with the UN, ready to return the Malay and Shan states to Britain.359 There were a number of omissions from this broadcast, as Dening pointed out. The Regent did not put his forces at the disposal of the Allies, nor mention the resistance movement's wish to act earlier. He did not refer to Indo-China. Nor, finally, was there any reference to a mission to Kandy: 'as to this there are indications that the Regent was doubtful as to the purpose of the mission and evidently some fear existed that it might be interpreted in Siam as a mission of unconditional surrender.' Some early statement from Britain and the US was essential, Dening declared.360 The new ministerial Far Eastern Committee met in London on the 17th, two days after the surrender, and considered both the Regent's proclamation and the revised British terms. In reference to the former, Bevin pointed to the need for a British statement, indicating that Britain's policy would depend on Siam's cooperation in matters arising out of the termination of the war, and on its readiness to make restitution to Britain and the Allies and ensure security and good-neighbourly relations in the future. In reference to the terms, he observed that rice could no longer be obtained by invoking mutual aid, since the supply of

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arms for use against the Japanese was no longer appropriate. 'The free rice would therefore have to be justified as Siam's contribution to the general Allied war effort.' The committee agreed to proceed along the lines suggested, consulting the dominions and communicating with the US 'in such away that we are not necessarily committed to accepting the view of that Government regarding the political conditions'. The military/quasi-military conditions were to be referred to the CCS.361 The political terms included in the first group the repudiation of the declaration of war and the Japanese alliance (Al, A2), and renunciation of the territory acquired since 1940 (A3). Among the measures of restitution and readjustment, the new draft made minor changes, designed to make the agreement British rather than Allied, and added a new clause (B6), giving an undertaking to conclude an agreement with the SACSEA on the military points in the annex. It cut out the list of measures against Japan and facilities to be granted, but included the measures for post-war strategic cooperation (Cl-3) and the measures for post-war economic cooperation (D). The military annex included measures of re-adjustment and restitution in regard to the Allies, among them those relating to prisoners-of-war, and provided for cooperation with the Allied forces in disarming the Japanese. It included, among the measures against Japan, provision for cooperation in apprehending war criminals. It also covered facilities to be granted, and included here the clauses covering the delivery of rice (23) and the acceptance of an advisory Allied military mission (20) .362 The terms were relayed to Washington.363 The rice scheme remained, and it was in that section of the agreements to be dealt with by the SACSEA. 'If our "free rice" scheme cannot be successfully put over to the Americans in such a way as to receive their support', Adams wrote, 'the Treasury and Ministry of Food may well have to reconsider whether (a) it is still workable in practice (b) it is not going to cost us more in the long run than it is worth (c) a revised scheme entailing payment for all rice, in some form, is not preferable!' A colleague pointed out that payment would involve £20-30 million when Britain was 'manifestly broke'.364 Not only were the revised terms under consideration; so also was a response to the Regent's proclamation. The State Department indicated that it would make a statement declaring that the US had 'always believed that the declaration [of war] did not represent the will of the Siamese people', and looked forward to 'even closer' friendship between the two countries than in the past. 'During the past four years we have regarded Siam not as an enemy but as a country to be liberated from the enemy. With that liberation now accomplished we look to the resumption by Siam of its former place in the community of Nations as

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a free sovereign and independent country.' 'The Americans have behaved very badly', Bennett lamented, 'in rushing in first with their statement in total disregard of our major interest as a belligerent who has still to settle with Siam for the injury done to us by her association with Japan. But this is typical!' The statement did not, however, 'constitute a final liquidation of the position as between the U.S. and Siam but merely expresses the hope that the friendship between the countries will be even closer for the future than in the past'.365 A British response had already been drafted for inclusion in a speech by the Foreign Secretary.366 This Bevin now accepted in substance.367 It recorded the 'disagreeable shock' of the Japanese alliance and the Siamese acceptance of British territory. But it also recorded the displacement of the government that took those measures, the growth of resistance in Siam, and the Regent's proclamation. The text of the latter would be examined 'to see whether it provides an adequate basis for an instrument which would regularise the present anomalous position'. Many practical questions had to be settled. 'These will be examined and our attitude will depend on the way in which the Siamese meet the requirements of our troops now about to enter their country; the extent to which they undo the wrongs done by their predecessors and make restitution for injury, loss and damage caused to British and Allied interests and the extent of their contribution to the restoration of peace, good order and economic rehabilitation in South East Asia.'368 The Regent expressed appreciation.369 He also announced that a mission would be sent to Kandy for 'entering into agreement in regard to military situation and political questions which may arise therefrom', and explained the omissions from his broadcast. The delay in placing Siamese forces at the disposal of the SACSEA and in sending a mission he attributed to a wish to avoid provoking the Japanese. Indo-China was not mentioned as it was on a different footing from the Shan and Malay states: Siam wished to retain the Laotian and Cambodian territory in question. Justice would be 'best assured by following the procedure prescribed in United Nations charter or by a plebiscite under supervision of United Nations . . .'370 The State Department's comments on the proposed agreements arrived in London on 1 September. The US government hoped for an early settlement of the state of war between Great Britain and Thailand, of a kind, moreover, that did not conflict with 'the viewpoint, interests, or policies of the United States', but would 'contribute to AngloAmerican unity of action in the Far East'. Thailand, it felt, should offer compensation for losses for which its own government was responsible, but the question of those for which the Japanese were responsible should be postponed until the question of Japanese reparations was

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settled. Any military agreement made by Mountbatten, the State Department considered, should be 'limited strictly to matters of concern to the British and American Governments in the war against their common enemy'. The combined command should not 'take any action which would tend to compromise the position of the United States which has considered Thailand not an enemy but a country to be liberated from the enemy, and with which it expects to resume diplomatic relations in the near future'. Not at war with Thailand, the US could not concur with the proposals made by the British on rice. It was, however, prepared to join with Britain in negotiating with Thailand a tripartite agreement under which the Thai government would agree to prohibit exports of rice, tin, rubber and teak except in accordance with the recommendations of the Combined Food Board (GFB) or its successor. The US and the UK would establish a Combined Thai Rice Commission (CTRC) to advise the Thai government on the production of rice and to arrange for its export directly or under its authority, according to CFB allocations. The Thai government would agree to make all surplus available at prices agreed between it and the CTRC, and to charge no duty on it beyond that in force on 15 August 1945. The American proposal omitted the levy of 1.5 million tons. The latter, the State Department felt, would not be just, in view of the Thais' readiness to join in the war. The amount, too, might be in excess of the total amount available for export in the coming year.371 These comments were considered in London by an interdepartmental working party of the Far Eastern Official Committee on 4 September, with Bennett in the chair. The demand for 1.5 million tons of free rice should stand. If we paid Siam for this rice at present world prices Siam would profit in an unreasonable way from this transaction. Siam might even be twice as well off as before the war, and the large sterling payment made would provide her with a means of purchasing scarce goods in the sterling area. The present high price of rice was itself in part due to the withholding of Siamese supplies from the world market. The proposal to negotiate a tripartite agreement with Siam was, however, prima facie a reasonable one. The question of obtaining the one-and-a-half million tons of rice free of cost was felt to be the most difficult problem, particularly in our relations with the United States. It was decided that we should give the Siamese an opportunity of making an offer of this free rice in return for our recognition, and it was felt that this method would provide the best chance of winning the Americans over to our point of view . . .372

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The notion may have been revivified by Bennett's interview the day before the working party met with Seni Pramoj, who had passed through London en route for Bangkok. Bennett had stressed that it was for Siam to make possible 'a resumption of the old friendly relations'. One question he mentioned was the treatment of prisoners-of-war. Another was rice: 'we should be faced with famine conditions in some of the territories in South East Asia. The Siamese could contribute very materially to the alleviation of these conditions by a substantial contribution of rice.' Seni said rice was already under consideration by the Siamese Government: there was a stockpile of about 1.5 million tons, though this year's yield was expected to be poor.373 He raised with Pridi the idea of offering 1.2 or 1.5 million tons of rice. Thawi Bunyaket, the Minister President, was doubtful, but Pridi wanted a quick answer, and it was agreed to accept the idea in principle, the exact amount to be agreed upon later.374 There was, therefore, some chance for the British to win rice, make an agreement with the Thais, and evade American objections. On 5 September telegrams from Randy announced the terms of an agreement the SACSEA proposed to sign there on the 7th.375 This covered in six articles a number of points which the Siamese military mission was authorised to accept, including such questions as the treatment of prisoners-of-war, internment, delivery of material. Another agreement was to be signed at the same time if approval from Bangkok had been secured by then. This comprised fifteen articles drawn from the proposed military agreement of August, including, as Articles 12 and 13, part of the rice article, but not the requirement for the delivery of free rice. Mountbatten's 'impatience' was 'understandable enough in view of the imminence of the entry of his troops into Siam and the absence of definite instructions owing to the obstructionist attitude of the Americans', wrote Bennett. But his 'precipitate action has placed us in a very embarrassing position vis-a-vis the U.S. Government and the U.S. Chiefs of Staff, and perhaps vis-a-vis the Siamese Government also'. His action would only confirm America's unwarranted suspicions of British policy. And he had communicated to the Siamese only 'an arbitrary selection of the provisions in the Annex to the Heads of Agreement'. Bennett suggested that the Chiefs of Staff should instruct Mountbatten to sign nothing pending instructions; instruct him then to sign his first agreement, making it conform as far as possible to that proposed to the US Chiefs of Staff, and adding a clause binding the Siamese government to accept further demands. This would enable the British government to proceed along the lines already envisaged.376 The Americans in Kandy protested in Washington, and Acheson telephoned ambassador Winant in London.377 Late on the night of

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6 September, Bennett was called to a discussion with the Prime Minister, Winant, and Colonel Hollis. 'Mr Winant said that the view of the United States Government was that nothing should be done to compromise their position in relation to Siam.' Bennett 'said that our attitude, on the other hand, was that we hoped that the United States Government would do nothing to compromise our position, which was based on the fact that we were still in a state of war with Siam and that it was difficult therefore for us to agree that Admiral Mountbatten's action in Siam should be limited solely to matters connected with the Japanese surrender'. Some agreement was urgent. From Winant's remarks it was clear that the US government was 'not much worried' about the first Mountbatten agreement. 'What did worry them was the proposed Agreement No. 2.' Bennett explained that, 'although it might be for different reasons, we did not like Agreement No. 2 either', and that it was intended to suspend action on it. As for the first agreement, it was 'necessary for us to reserve the right to secure such further facilities as might be necessary in Allied military interests', and to ensure that the agreement did not prejudice the position of Britain or other Allies. Winant 'appeared satisfied'.378 Mountbatten, instructed to sign the first agreement, said the Siamese were ready to sign both. But Timber man, American representative in Kandy, now objected to the signature of any agreement: the instructions to Mountbatten did not entirely tally with the telegrams from Washington. Mountbatten said he would wait no more than twenty-four hours for the matter to be cleared up.379 'It is to me an absolutely unique experience', Dening declared, 'that the power with whom we are negotiating should agree to sign, while another power protests against a signature . . .' The Siamese leaning, he believed, was towards the British; but the Americans, influenced by the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) reports, were trying to delay agreement, a matter of genuine suspicion of British intentions and of petty jealousy inflamed by 'the ever sinister activities of O.S.S.' 'My view . . . is that, given non-interference by the Americans, we shall get the Siamese to do what we want, within reason, and have them on our side in the future . . .'380 The interim military agreement was in fact signed on 8 September.381 Dening was, however, too optimistic. Mountbatten's hasty presentation of the '21 points' - that had evil overtones - led the Thais to seek US help,382 and, as Bennett saw, increased US suspicion, already evident and fostered by British secretiveness. As a result this episode damaged the prospects of the more general negotiations, in which generous terms for reconciliation might educe an offer of free rice. The Thais' distrust of the British had increased, even though Mountbatten's 21 points did not cover the rice delivery. The important issue for the Thais was

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recognition, and now Britain needed to be still more explicit if it was to counter their misgivings, elicit rice, and avoid American interposition. Dening had been instructed to arrange for a Siamese mission to visit Kandy, and to present the head of the mission with the Heads of Agreement and the military annex. Together they represented what Britain required Siam to accept as 'the pre-condition to the liquidation of the state of war and to the resumption of normal relations', a minimum demand 'in view of Siam's collaboration with Japan', requiring 'integral acceptance'. In the light of the American attitude, 'it will clearly be preferable to obtain the rice as a free contribution voluntarily offered by the Siamese Government. . .' Dening could at his discretion therefore raise the matter with the Siamese before presenting the Heads and annex. The agreement should look as much like a friendly settlement as possible. Perhaps the next step should be an exchange of letters indicating that the parties accepted the liquidation of the state of war on the basis of the Heads and annex. 383 A delay in the arrival of the Thais at Kandy Dening was inclined to blame on the OSS. 'The rats seem to have got to the Siamese.'384 Then Charles Yost, designated US charge in Bangkok, arriving en route in Kandy, told him that the State Department expected certain differences resolved before Dening approached the delegation. Mr Yost hastened to say that the United States naturally did not wish to restrict right of His Majesty's Government to conduct negotiations direct with Siam but contradicted himself by going on to say by virtue of the fact that this was an Allied Command it was impossible for United States not to interfere in any solution which we might reach with Siam nor were United States prepared to admit mere technicality that we were at war with Siam while they were not made any real difference . . . Dening pointed to the distinction between the military agreement SAC had signed, and the British agreement which he was to conclude. Yost was 'extremely persistent', and finally indicated that if Dening began to negotiate 'he would feel obliged to see Siamese and to tell them that United States Government did not agree to certain items in the agreement which we were putting before Siam . . .' Dening feared the Americans would encourage the Thais to 'dig in their toes'.385 He met the delegation on 25 September. He made a speech indicating that the British government was prepared in the circumstances to replace the usual treaty of peace by a document terminating the war. He mentioned the rice levy, indicating that the clause had been inserted before the British knew of the intention to make 'a voluntary offer'. Prince Wiwat, leading the delegation, confirmed that the Siamese government was willing to make 'a free gift of rice'. 386

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Dening had some discussion with the prince, and then on 27 September was given a Siamese re-draft. This included a new version of Section C of the Heads of Agreement, which included a phrase indicating that Britain would sponsor Siam's entry into the UN that Dening thought could not be part of the agreement. It also linked the undertaking over Kra to the other clauses so that it applied only to the period before Siam entered the UN. The Thais also wanted some reference in the preamble to the annex indicating that prolonged occupation was not intended; and this Dening recommended.387 At the plenary session the following day the issue of compensation for damage to British property was raised. The parties also discussed clause 13 on the military mission, which Prince Wiwat thought had no raison d'etre following the Japanese surrender, and Dening said that a redraft would be considered. 'It was agreed that the deletion of clause 16 (A) [the rice delivery] would depend upon a voluntary offer being made by the Siamese Government in the required terms, as to which the Prince was awaiting instructions . . ,'388 In a private talk with the prince, Dening stressed the importance of an offer of rice. The minor offer made in Bangkok would not suffice.389 That offer was of 240,000 tons as a gift 'for the benefit of UN' at 20,000 tons per month.390 The Foreign Office, after consulting Sanderson, agreed that this was indeed unsatisfactory. Dening was to press for 1.5 million tons; 'but we would accept a firm offer of one million tons, plus obligation to supply after yield of current crop ascertained, any further quantity up to half a million tons which by joint assessment rice unit and Siamese Government may be agreed to be surplus to internal needs . . .'391 Dening was permitted to declare that, in due course, that is after termination of war with Britain, the Commonwealth countries and France, the United Kingdom would support a Siamese application for membership of the UN.392 The Siamese delegation had full powers, but they appeared to be qualified by the pledge of the Regent to approve what it accepted 'if agreeable'. Dening could not accept that if he signed he committed his government, while the prince, when signing, did not commit the Regent. Yet 'the longer the delay the more the Siamese will be encouraged to think that they can get off even more lightly than heads of agreement suggest'. It was 'open gossip' in Bangkok that the US had prevented the signature of Mountbatten's second agreement. 'This I am told has encouraged the Siamese to believe that if they hold out they can count upon American support.' When he received instructions, Dening planned to tell the delegation he would break off negotiations unless he received satisfaction over the matter of credentials within a stated time.393 Advised by the 'old hands', however, the Foreign Office advised

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Dening that constitutional forms would have to be completed before formal signature. 394 Dening became more impatient in the meantime. Prince Viwat wrote him a letter, proposing modifications in the Heads of Agreement to cover the clauses about compensation for damages, security and Kra. Dening replied that he was unable to accept more modifications: the letter 'suggests to me that you have either not thought fit or have been unable to bring your Government to a realisation of the attitude of the Government of the United Kingdom in this matter . . .' Again the old hands were doubtful about Dening's tactics. 'Firm handling' might succeed, Adams wrote, but it will not pay to show impatience; once the Siamese turn sulky it is impossible to gain any degree of willing cooperation. And the latter is the very thing to obtain which we have framed relatively easy conditions for acceptance by the Siamese Government. Siamese 'face is being saved in that we press for no formal Armistice or Peace Treaty. This is all to the good. We risk losing the goodwill thus obtained, however, if we lapse into the role of the conquering enemy . . ,395 H. R. Bird, the consul-general, had seen Seni on the 9th. He said he would try to get the agreement through the Assembly, though 1.5 million tons of rice would cost 7-800 million deals, and lead to inflation.396 In fact Seni put the rice delivery through the Assembly despite 'nationalist' opposition, on condition that Thailand's wishes on other matters were considered. 397 The Assembly was, however, dissolved on 15 October. The Regent could not get rid of the nominated members, and was planning a plebiscite, for which he wanted young King Mahidol brought back from Switzerland. The Regent also declared that he foresaw difficulty in getting any Assembly to sign the agreement as it stood 'because Pibun's followers had already accused free Siamese and Resistance Movement of selling Siam to foreign countries'. He wanted Britain to agree to three points put forward by Seni: that Siamese currency supplied to Allied military authorities be repayable; that compensation for losses be 'equitable and just'; and that compensation for damages be paid by the Thais only to the extent that it would not be met by Japanese reparations. Dening thought these amendments 'impertinent' and 'trivial'. The lack of an Assembly, he thought, was the real problem. The Siamese 'now appear to have got themselves into a thorough mess'. 398 Possibly Dening was mistaken in regarding the amendments as trivial. Seni wanted a face-saving device; and with these changes it seems an agreement might have been reached. But the Foreign Office concentrated on the constitutional issue: now there might be a long delay between initialling and ratification.

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Maybe, Adams wondered, a different means for terminating the state of war would be required; otherwise the impasse might be of indefinite duration. It was not clear how the return of the king would help, but 'on balance it seems desirable to offer facilities if we can'. The Regent faced opposition from Pibun's followers. Some attempt should be made to shift part of the responsibility for compensation to Japan. 'We need not only a well-disposed Siam, but a good customer with money to spend.' W. W. Coultas agreed: the dissolution was 'most annoying'; but it might be the only way of getting a majority. Bennett endorsed the idea of facilitating the king's return. Bird was to tell the Regent of the gesture, made in the hope that it would help him to make possible the resumption of friendly relations by concluding the Kandy agreement. If the dissolution meant a great delay, the Regent should be asked for suggestions for validating the agreement. He might also be reminded that the terms were minimal and would be interpreted reasonably. Siam would have been treated very differently, he could point out, if the British had been dealing with Pibun.399 The concession over compensation, urged by Adams, was not made. The Foreign Office was prepared to help Pridi, but not by making concessions over the treaty, which was what was really needed. Perhaps the best opportunity of a deal thus passed, partly obscured by the interest of the British in the constitutional issues. That induced them to make concessions, but not in fact those that might have been of most help to civilian government. Yet time was not on their side, as Dening saw. The need for rice outside Thailand was becoming more pressing. Inside Thailand it would become more of a political and not merely an economic issue; while the poor prospects of the 1945 crop made the government alarmed for its surpluses in subsequent years. The negotiations were suspended when Dening departed for an even tougher task in Indonesia.400 The constitutional problem remained. As instructed by the Foreign Office, Bird told Pridi that two months was a long while to wait.401 A week later he reported that the Prime Minister was ready to sign if the agreement were modified by the three points earlier mentioned, 'and that he will consider such signature was approved by the late Assembly and therefore valid constitutionally'. Bird thought this 'blackmail' resulted from the British request that the Regent seek some means of avoiding a delay until the new Assembly met. No doubt the 'terms' could be reduced by bargaining, but presumably His Majesty's government had no intention of doing that. Indeed, even the old hands did not like this. Adams thought the signature might not be valid. 'Now that we have waited so long, there is no point in jeopardising the future simply because we are tired of waiting', Coultas wrote. 'In dealing with Orientals of the easy-going type like the Siamese it is

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fatal to show impatience, but this need not prevent a display of firmness on our part.'402 Scruples over the constitutional issue helped the Foreign Office again to miss an opportunity. Seni was no doubt basing himself on the old Assembly's readiness to offer rice if certain other matters were considered. The Thais wanted a bargain; the British now saw attempts to bargain as blackmail, though at the outset they had themselves envisaged a bargain. The Foreign Secretary himself was concerned at the delay. 'Can this now be brought to a final head - it is delayed for long.'403 An American memorandum of 29 November was delivered to Halifax in person by the Secretary of State, Dean Acheson. The US, it said, had tried hard to accommodate itself to the British position. It had 'so far' not replied to Siamese requests for comments on the proposed SiameseBritish agreement; it had deferred resuming diplomatic relations; it had refrained from pressing objections to 'unduly harsh' clauses. But, doubtful that Siam could both pay compensation for all the claims Allied governments might advance as well as meet the rice levy, it could not accept the British view that the US might not be associated with the British government in determining Siamese capacity to pay, and that United States claims must be subordinated to those of countries at war. 'This position it is felt would be sound if the British state of war with Siam were unrelated to the war with Japan or if the United States had been a neutral in that war . . .' Maybe Siam could meet both levy and claims and still have exchange assets. But it was not certain, and the United States must have a share in determining the matter on equal terms with its allies at war with Siam. The State Department indicated that it wished promptly to resume diplomatic relations, but would wait a few days for a reply. It also suggested that the delay in the negotiations might be attributed to Siamese knowledge that the US objected to some of the terms. If His Majesty's government could meet the American points, an early conclusion might be prompted by Dening's indicating that the US had no further comments. At the same time he could convey to the Siamese the same assurance as to 'application and intent' as made to the US.404 Dening, never an enthusiast for it, had also telegraphed urging a modification of the rice demand. The amount should not be reduced, but the period of delivery should be extended: half the monthly tonnage available should be free, the Siamese government paid for the other half. We are not in a strong position. There is a crying need for rice to avert famine and we are not getting it. American attitude tends to encourage Siamese to employ delaying tactics. We are presumably not prepared to apply sanctions and our forces now in Siam are needed elsewhere. We have many other preoccupations in the Far East and the whole of the Far East is aware of them. Our pound of flesh may in the end cost us too much.405

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'The terms of our demands are incompatible with the urgency of our needs.'406 Only force or payment could secure rice, W. M. Doll insisted: the Siamese government could not get merchants to disgorge stocks even with the best will in the world.407 Dening took stock of the negotiations before their expected resumption. Some factors had weighed against Britain from the outset: the fact that the terms were not presented until after the war with Japan had ended; the attitude of the US; 'the fact that our forces had to enter Siam before agreement was reached and the necessity to treat the Siamese for military purposes as a friendly power'; the intervention of the Americans against the military agreement; and the appointment of Seni as Prime Minister. This meant that the delegation came to bargain and not to accept minimum terms; and if Dening had disabused the delegation of the idea, he doubted if the Siamese government had accepted the view, which he thought it would have done before the end of the war, that it should perform an act of expiation. A delay had resulted first from Siamese procrastination and second from the fact that Dening could not be in two places at once; and it had strengthened the belief of the Siamese that they could hold out for better terms. The terms had become known and were regarded as 'unduly harsh', an attitude presumably encouraged by the Americans in Bangkok; and there was now no certainty that a government that accepted them in toto could escape 'internal political repercussions', as it probably would have done earlier. Three months after the Japanese surrender British armed strength no longer seemed so 'mighty' and 'majestic', and, like the rest of Southeast Asia, Siam realised that Britain had 'many preoccupations and many commitments'. With the lapse of time, too, the Siamese had become aware of the need for rice and the strength of their position. 'If the Siamese were to encourage the strikes and non-delivery' already affecting the trade, 'we could not successfully counter such tactics. Failure on our part on the other hand to relieve the distress would affect our entire position in South East Asia . . . [T]he prospects are not what they were.'408 The re-opening of the negotiations in Singapore in December was surrounded by publicity. A newspaper article suggested that Britain was making 'new demands'. This was denied, but it was not felt that detail could be revealed.409 Another article in the Indian press suggested that the presence of Indian troops was associating India with the growing Siamese hatred of Britain.410 A United Press despatch from Stanley Rich in Bangkok, apparently prompted by Seni,411 also attracted editorial comment in the US, denouncing an alleged British attempt to make Siam a colony. Halifax urged a statement in the hope of averting 'a

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growing torrent of abuse in the American press for our "imperialistic oppression of Asiatics" \412 A guidance telegram was issued.413 But correspondents felt that statements that British requirements were 'not in the British view harsh' were 'insufficient to kill the suspicions created by Bangkok'. Some Congressmen were suggesting that, if the British were behaving like this, they should not receive a loan.414 The kind of statement Dening proposed - setting out Britain's position, and denying it was that of 'a brutal domineering and imperialistic nation' - was unlikely to help.415 Late on 14 December, Moffat saw Sansom while he was in bed with grippe, and 'not very clear as to what he was driving at. He said that State Department were much distressed to learn that Dening had issued an "ultimatum" to the Siamese while our talks with United States were still proceeding' ,416 This Dening denied. He was following the instructions of September. He had not been told, he observed, that the conclusion of the agreement depended on American consent: 'had I received such instructions I would long since have made it clear to Siamese that I was acting under American and not British instruction . . .' The Americans were once more trying to prevent signature: their conduct, not his, required explanation.417 In fact, as the bedridden Sansom had been told, the press campaign against the UK was threatening to make the US government's position difficult, and Winant was told to discuss the situation at the highest level. Allison and Gallman, the Counsellor, duly called at the Foreign Office on 18 December. The State Department, it was clear, was 'extremely concerned' as to the effect which British terms, as reported in the press, would have on Anglo-American relations and was under heavy pressure to state what it was doing to protect American interests and secure fair treatment for Siam. One issue was the rice levy. On this the US, while disapproving, had tried to meet British views, but now it urged the British to reconsider their position. The proposed levy and the uncertainty over the effect of British demands were detrimental to the basic objective of increasing the availability and production of rice, since they weakened the Siamese government and destroyed their will to cooperate. The British should be content with the offer of 240,000 tons. The US would defer resuming diplomatic relations for a few days in order to receive the British reply; but if the British could not meet its views, it would resume relations at once and feel free to comment, probably in public, on the proposed agreement. Gallman was instructed that this was a 'virtual ultimatum'. He asked for 'a final effort to bridge the remaining gap'. He was told that the annex was to be pruned, and the free rice clause modified so that the amount would be determined

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by the appropriate authorities with a ceiling of 1.5 million tons. A copy of the revised text of the annex was given to him, and he thought it met the State Department's views.418 The conversation also covered the security clauses, over which Allison had already seen Wilson-Young. There was 'a tendency in some American quarters to suspect' that part of clause C was 'designed to secure for H.M. Government, if not a Protectorate over Siam, then at least some special military position or rights'.419 But in face of the Americans' 'ultimatum', 'a most surprising and unusual development',420 a modification was made.421 Now, at last, a press release indicated that the Anglo-American conversations had concluded.422 The discussions, renewed in Singapore, had begun with a Thai offer of 1.5 million tons of free rice coupled with a memorandum indicating the difficulties in the way of fulfilling it. The exportable surplus was only 426,000 tons, of which sound white rice would constitute only 239,000 tons. Siam would lose foreign exchange, necessary for reconstruction even of the rice industry itself. The Foreign Office instructed Dening to accept the offer and agreed to include a proportion of broken rice. But it pointed out that the wartime surplus - which Seni had said mounted to 1.5 million tons - was not mentioned, and that the Rice Unit had estimated that 1.7 million tons was available from rice already harvested.423 Prince Wiwat was authorised to sign.424 He said that the Siamese government had decided to accept the terms as the minimum Britain would offer though, owing to the dissolution of the Assembly, it could implement only such of the Heads as did not involve legislative action. Dening spoke of omitting the rice clause and covering the offer by an exchange of letters, but the Prince objected. It was apparent, Dening thought, that the Siamese government had taken the plunge only by putting 'the blame on us. The Prince has told me that there was a considerable argument in the Cabinet, and that the only way round the Assembly decision was to say that as terms were not subject to negotiation, the question of modification did not arise.' An 'outburst of antiBritish feeling' might ensue. 'Given tactful and sympathetic handling I am advised that the harm done will not necessarily be permanent.' But unless the British were careful over the rice question, 'we may do irreparable damage to our relations with Siam, in which case America and perhaps also China, will not be slow to take advantage of our error. I think we should be wise to bear in mind that it is to our advantage to have Siam as a good neighbour and not as a resentful one seeking other friends in order to act to our detriment.'425 The French had been told that the reference in Bevin's speech of 20 August to Allied interests was intended to safeguard their interests as well as others'.426 Dening was apprehensive. The Thais, though

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returning the Indo-China territory they had secured in 1941, would wish to re-open the question of their ownership. The French should not be able to use British influence to further their cause, and thus perhaps retard Britain's own negotiations. The Americans 'would be severely critical of anything they might interpret as British support of French imperial-ism'.427 He had been told that Britain did not wish to be 'involved unnecessarily' over Franco-Siamese relations, though bound to safeguard its ally's interest to the best of its ability.428 In Singapore, it was agreed to exchange notes with the Siamese after the main exchange of letters, recording British non-recognition of the 1941 transfers.429 The agreement was signed on 1 January 1946. Indo-China had not impeded the negotiations after all. But they had not gone well. The British got the worst of both worlds, neither rice, nor reconcilement. Some were inclined to blame this on American intervention. Perhaps it should rather be blamed on Britain's own tactics. But Britain's secrecy - and even its obstinacy - were a counterpart of US distrust. The Americans put more effort into undermining than into understanding. They believed they were not only sustaining America's interests, but promoting the creation of a friendly Thai government. The total effect of the policy of the Allies was, however, to weaken Pridi. The US, while declining to stop Great Britain, did not support it either. Instead of a joint and moderate Allied demand which Pridi might have safely met, a long Anglo-American and Anglo-Thai wrangle ensued. The British government did not obtain what it wanted. But civilian government in Siam was the ultimate victim. The question of modifying the levy had been raised again before the agreement was actually signed. Sanderson, Director of Rice at the Ministry of Food, wrote from Washington full of apprehension. There was a large surplus of rice in Siam, but middlemen declined to sell it to the Siamese government at the £8 per ton it was offering. He suggested buying it at £15, subject to the Rice Unit's being the sole channel of procurement; or accepting the maximum quantity the Siamese would contribute free probably 240,000 tons - and the balance at the minimum price at which it could be exported without untoward effects on the Siamese economy. Adams thought Sanderson made a strong case for modifying, or even abandoning, the free rice demand. 'Having achieved our object of making the Siamese accept the principle of restitution for their acts', his colleague Whitteridge added, 'there is much to be said for interpreting the terms as generously as possible'. A 'firm friendship with Siam' was in Britain's general interest. It had a specific interest in securing rice so that British subjects in neighbouring territories did not starve. The demand for free rice must be reduced 'to the extent necessary to induce the cultivators or middlemen to bring their rice stocks on to the market. . .'430

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There was, Pethick-Lawrence wrote to Bevin, an 'overriding necessity' to procure 'the rice which is so urgently required both by SEAC territories and by India'. It seemed clear that we cannot draw more than negligible quantities of rice out of Siam unless we have the co-operation of the Siamese Government. At present the more free rice we obtain, the greater becomes the Siamese Government's budgetary deficit. Consequently it is to the interest of the Siamese Government to employ all the devices of delay and obstruction which orientals know so well how to use, to restrict the flow of rice to the ports . . .

Pethick-Lawrence suggested staggering or deferring the free rice demand, paying for 50 per cent at market price, or paying sterling for the bulk. 'We must not have famine', Bevin noted, and agreed that the position should be reviewed.431 At the end ofJanuary, the British Cabinet reconsidered the matter. In a memorandum the Minister of Food, Sir Ben Smith, had underlined the shortfall in world supplies, in particular in respect of India and Southeast Asia. Siam was believed to have an accumulated surplus of 1.5 million tons, plus 300,000 or more from the current crop. 'It is proving impossible, however, to procure rice from Siam at a rate commensurate with our needs. In my opinion this situation is due to lack of faith by holders of rice in Siam's currency which in turn is fostered by insistence on a free levy.' The paramount concern was now procurement, and 'insistence on this free levy is a hindrance to procurement because holders of Siamese rice will not exchange rice for ticals in circumstances in which, rightly or wrongly, they consider the tical is likely to depreciate, as a result of the export of rice from their country without payment'. Moreover, if adequate supplies were not obtained, the blame would be fixed upon the British government. The minister suggested, after an assessment, setting a target figure for 1946, to be paid for in sterling. Any shortfall would be delivered free of cost in 1947, up to 1.5 million tons.432 'Under my scheme', as Sir Ben put it, 'if the Siamese deliver to us during 1946 a quantity of rice which reaches or exceeds the agreed target figure no free rice whatever will be due to be delivered to us. If, however, deliveries during 1946 fall short of the target, the amount of rice due to be delivered free of cost will be limited to the amount of the shortfall'.433 At the Foreign Office, Allen hoped Bevin would support the case for abolishing the free rice contribution in its present form. The food situation in Southeast Asia was critical, and Lord Killearn was being sent out as Special Commissioner as a result. Siam had a surplus, and experience showed that insistence on the contribution meant that rice was not forthcoming. Further insistence might 'land us in serious

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trouble with the United States', which would blame the United Kingdom for any famine, and might purchase rice independently, 'all of which might in turn react unfavourably on the prospects of the United States Loan Agreement in Congress'. Bennett agreed that 'the over-riding need is surely to avoid both famine and the blame for it'. Sargent understood that the rice was destined for India, Burma, and Malaya, and perhaps also China. He did not see why the British tax-payer should meet the cost. Perhaps the Treasury could recover it? 'I understand the British Taxpayer does not Pay a Penny', Bevin noted. 'I feel I must abandon the claim for free Rice if we are to Prevent Famine.'434 At a meeting of the Cabinet Committee on World Food Supplies, members supported Sir Ben Smith. Bevin said that, while not prepared entirely to waive the claim to free rice, 'he did not think it would be wise to insist on delivery without payment at the present time'.435 When the Cabinet discussed the issue again, the Chancellor of the Exchequer indicated that he agreed with Bevin's suggestion 'that we ought not at this stage to press our claim to free rice from Siam', the condition being that the British did not bear the cost of any rice supplied to India. 'India was well able to pay for rice supplies out of her accumulated sterling balances.' The Colonial Secretary asked about rice supplied to Ceylon and Malaya. 'It was explained that countries receiving this rice would be expected to pay for it in the usual way . . .' The Cabinet agreed, on this understanding, that 'in present circumstances' the claim for free rice should not be pressed.436 The price? Lord Nathan, convening a committee of officials on Southeast Asia rice and other supplies, asked what was the maximum the Malayan peasant could pay. Sanderson said £25 per ton. Sir G. Clauson of the Colonial Office said the policy in Malaya was to keep food prices low.437 As the Treasury had indicated, it would have 'a disastrous effect on the currencies of the rice-consuming British liberated territories if the sterling price of Siamese rice were to rise to a level comparable with the scarcity price which has prevailed elsewhere during the Japanese occupation of the great rice-producing areas of South East Asia . . .' The currencies of the British liberated areas had been re-established at their old parities. These could be maintained only if prices could be prevented from rising greatly during the period before post-war 'reconversion' in the United Kingdom and elsewhere allowed them to be supplied with consumer goods and other things they needed.438 Bird was to tell Bangkok Britain would drop Article 14 of the treaty of 1 January 1946 on condition that the Siamese government would make available to the British government for export under the authority of a United StatesUnited Kingdom organisation to be established, and in accordance with CFB allocations, 1.2 million tons at £x p.t. (not more than £15 p.t. . . .).

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Should the quantity be less than 1.2 million tons, the balance would have to be delivered free of cost to the British government during a period to be specified.439 Whatever difficulties there might be with the Americans over pricefixing, it had intrinsic difficulties, which quickly emerged. In Bangkok the local British authorities questioned the setting of a price in sterling: the rate of the tical to the pound might change.440 Tn view of real possibility of exchange fluctuations and of variations in price levels', Geoffrey H. Thompson, the new ambassador, declared, T share the dislike of all in Bangkok concerned with rice of committing ourselves to a fixed sterling price for rice delivered to us by the Siamese . . ,'441 The government in London, however, saw it as essential for the price to be 'reasonable', in the interests of currencies elsewhere in Southeast Asia, and in Siam's own long-term interest.442 But in order to cheapen imports of consumer goods, W. M. Doll, the Financial Adviser, wanted to raise the tical rate.443 'During the eight months or so that have passed since the Japanese collapse', Thompson wrote there has . . . been too much tendency to lecture and complain and to hold out to the last moment for all our terms only then to give way under [American] pressure or long-continued Siamese obstruction or both. This melancholy process gains us neither credit nor merit. On the contrary it leads to resentment and negation. It may be preferable in future to delay presentation of specific demands until it can be shown that local factors will permit of their practical fulfilment. . .444 The task Thompson so described was not, however, over. Dening had been anxious lest the Americans should accuse the British of supporting French imperialism. In fact the US could not endorse the acquisition of French territories by Thailand in 1940-1, since it was done in denigration of the principles for conducting foreign policy enunciated in 1937. Siam should return the territory, but there should be provision for subsequent readjustment. That the French were unwilling to offer, while Pridi found the Siamese politicians and the public 'united, inflamed and intransigent' on the question of retrocession.445 Pridi asked Yost for assistance, pointing to 'intense public feeling' and to the support Pibun had obtained by the acquisition of the territories.446 Assistance was not easy to offer on this matter, unlike the rice issue, yet it no doubt damaged the Pridi government as much, if not more. Destruction and reconstruction in the Philippines On defeating the Japanese, the Americans felt committed to fulfilling the promise of independence for the Philippines. Though they had

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failed to defend it, they had returned. Carrying out the promise envisaged in the 1935 act was an assertion of victory. It was also an example to other powers: colonial rule must come to an end. But under the Bell Act the independence of the new republic was hedged about with restrictions. The Philippines had won the albeit double-edged advantage of continued preferential trade, and it had the promise of funds for rehabilitation following the enormous damage it had suffered as 'without question the most completely destroyed and dislocated battle ground of the war'.447 But it had to allow parity between Americans and Filipinos in the exploitation of the resources of the Philippines, though that required a constitutional amendment; it had to peg the peso to the dollar; and it had to provide the American forces with bases.448 The State Department itself thought some provisions in the trade bill were inconsistent with 'genuine independence' while others gave Americans special privileges at a time when the US was fighting discrimination elsewhere.449 The acting British consul-general, D. F. MacDermot, had offered a cynical view. Mid-1945, he saw the scene dominated by the economic difficulties that followed three years of occupation and exploitation and by the destruction of Manila and other cities in the battles of liberation. Only the US could provide compensation and help in reconstruction, and the US was the main supplier and market for foreign trade. 'The Filipinos are not by nature disposed to provide for themselves if others can be found to provide for them.' United States politicians had led them to believe 'that America's sympathy with her brown brothers will find expression in limitless assistance. In the circumstances it is not unnatural that the hope that the United States would be a universal provider has blossomed into the expectation of a shower of gold'. The 'belief in Santa Claus' reduced 'Filipino political interest' to two questions: 'How much is America going to pay, and who is going to control the money?' Independence was 'seen as an advantage in that it will limit outside interference with the disposal of the loot, as a disadvantage by those who fear that even a generous America may not adequately cushion the shock of separation from American economic protection'. It had lost some of its popularity, since the United States had made clear that it would be granted by July 1946, 'and that the Philippines Government will not be permitted to change its mind at the last minute if the balance sheet looks too unfavourable . . ,'450 Indeed the bargain was to be quite a hard one. Earlier Frank Hodsoll, a leading British merchant often in pre-war contact with the Foreign Office, had suggested that extension of the Commonwealth period would be more desirable than early independence.451 That would only be possible if the Filipinos sought it, Foulds, a

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pre-war consul-general, observed. But, he added, the Filipinos wanted 'to have their cake and eat it, i.e. to get independence and still have free trade with the U.S. and large scale American benevolence in other respects'.452 'All the world is in trouble, and I have to deal with all the troubles at once.' Bevin thus excused himself for a long speech in the Commons on 23 November 1945.453 By March/April 1946, he might feel his government had achieved some success in Southeast Asia. Burma, if not fully regained, was not lost. The Malayan Union was proclaimed, if not endorsed, while the cession of Sarawak was being driven through and North Borneo painlessly acquired. The French had made an accord with the Vietnamese, and the Dutch seemed, partly in imitation, to be moving towards a compromise with the republicans in Indonesia. The policy towards Siam had, somewhat humiliatingly, to be adjusted. With that, however, there was the prospect that the return to Southeast Asia would not be accompanied by famine, but with a prospect of economic recovery that might also contribute to Britain's recovery.

CHAPTER 3

The Re-establishment of the Colonial Regimes in Southeast Asia, 1946

Regionalism and nationalism

The British had set out on an ambitious policy in Southeast Asia, and by March-April 1946 they had achieved some of their major objectives. They had returned to Burma, Malaya and Borneo. Their allies had returned to Indo-China and to Indonesia, and had apparently been prompted to work with the nationalist movements they found. In the coming months, the British were to discover some of the weaknesses in their position. They conceded power to the AFPFL. They abandoned the Malayan Union. By a substantial diplomatic effort they pushed the Dutch and the Indonesians into the Linggadjati agreement. But they did not prevent the unleashing of war in Vietnam. Southeast Asia was, of course, not dealt with in a vacuum. Britain's interests, and indeed its responsibilities, were worldwide; yet its power was limited. Its policies in Southeast Asia were thus affected by its own priorities and by the attitudes of other powers. Southeast Asia was important to the British, both for specific reasons and for general ones. Britain needed access to the dollars Malaya could earn, and it needed the base facilities that Singapore could offer. It also saw Southeast Asia as a potential zone of stability in which the commercial interests of Britain could survive and develop long-term. But Southeast Asia was less important than Europe and less important even than the Middle East. Its position vis-a-vis India was to become more equivocal, but at this time India was still a prime interest. Not only had those priorities to be taken into account, but also the priorities of other powers. Britain was a weaker power even than it had been pre-war but, as then, it tried to maximise its influence, and its capacity to pursue its interests, by diplomacy. That might help with the 131

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Europeans, with the Australians, with the Thais, with the Filipinos. What was most important, even in dealing with them, was the relationship with the Americans. Winning their support could only be done at a cost. Britain's policies might have to be modified or abandoned. They might be given different overtones or emphases in order to win that support. Britain's policy in Southeast Asia was continually re-shaped in response to the conditions within Southeast Asia, and the experience in one area influenced its handling of others. It was continually re-shaped, too, in response to conditions outside Southeast Asia that affected the region. In handling both sets of circumstances, however, the British seldom lost sight of what to them was essential. Though coordination was lacking, their plans had certain common aims. The plans had to be adjusted but the aims remained, and the adjustments were made in the light of them. The aim was stability, preferably based on the reconciliation of East and West and on an avoidance of totalitarian government. The British hoped to reconcile their interests in Europe with those in Asia by promoting the acceptance of nationalist movements and thus avoiding extremist leadership. The Europeans must come to terms with nationalism. That would facilitate their collaboration in Europe, promote a regional approach, and limit the scope for communism. The growing threat of a Cold War during 1946, signalled by Churchill's Fulton speech, and made evident by the failure of the foreign ministers' conference, urged on the adjustments the British had been making. It seemed only to make stability more essential. It made it, if anything, more necessary that European powers should come to terms with nationalism in order to provide that stability. Otherwise the way would be open to the communists who might now have international backing and whose accommodation might be more risky or impractical. As yet the US was persuaded of this threat only to a limited extent and its involvement in Southeast Asia remained limited. That left the British with a responsibility incommensurate with their power but also with a certain independence of action. Their problem was as pre-war: how to involve the Americans, yet still shape the policy that ought to be pursued. The demands on the UK were unexpectedly heavy: 18.7 per cent of men were in military service in 1946, and 18.8 per cent of the national income went on defence.1 At the same time it was evident that the Cabinet mission to India had failed, while communal violence had increased. The Burmans, so R. B. Smith suggests, were to recognise an opportunity.2 One of the answers to the problems that the British faced, they conceived, was regionalism. Within Southeast Asia they hoped for a regional approach. They might involve others outside Southeast Asia by the same

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approach. In fact Australia and India were to display an interest, particularly in Indonesia. It did not, however, always lead to policies that were consistent with those that the British, with their European and worldwide interests, felt that they had to follow. It extended the diplomatic challenge they faced. But success would be worthwhile. Their involvement might help to make up for the lack of US support if it was not forthcoming. It might help to shape it if it were. Lord Killearn's mission The rice crisis, itself a regional matter, had precipitated a decision to appoint a special commissioner, but the appointment had long-term objectives, too. The multiplicity of British officials was one difficulty with the concept. Another was the risk of arousing foreign suspicion, which would be counter-productive. A new version of Killearn's paper on coordination took account of the arrival of the Governor-General, Malcolm MacDonald, and stressed the need for coordination among the Special Commissioner, the GovernorGeneral and the Supreme Commander, and their staffs. They would themselves comprise a Defence Committee, also a Political Committee. 3 Bevin had been taking a keen interest in the issue. Earlier in June he had told Sir R. Skrine Stevenson, the new British ambassador to China, that the eventual task of the Special Commissioner would be the coordination of British interests in Asia. This he hoped would grow naturally out of the present short-term arrangement for dealing with the food crisis. Mr Bevin explained that he did not wish, for the purpose of foreign affairs, to deal with the Asiatic countries one by one. Their interests were so closely bound together nowadays that it was essential to treat the area as a whole in formulating British policy.4 The arrival of the definitive version of Killearn's paper on coordination led Bevin to suggest, however, that the timing of future action needed careful consideration . . . your Mission should for the present continue to concentrate on grappling with the food situation and taking the place, where necessary, of the various organs of the South East Asia Command as they disappear. The work should be done quietly and in such a way as not to arouse suspicion on the part of other countries as to our political activities in South East Asia . . .5 The Chiefs of Staff planned to abolish SACSEA when the military commitment had been fulfilled. Killearn thought there should still be a Supreme Commander. Southeast Asia, he believed, was important to the Commonwealth in peace and war, since it 'strategically forms a powerful

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bastion with Australia as its natural base'. 'To entrust the task in peacetime to three separate Commanders-in-Chief is in my view intrinsically unsound . . .'6 This was, however, the plan of the Chiefs of Staff.7 Allen was inclined to share their views, not Killearn's 'rather pessimistic' one: 'if there is a Supreme Commander, Commanders-in-Chief tend to concentrate on their own individual service responsibilities and to overlook their collective responsibilities for defence matters as a whole; consequently the "Trinity" system is a better training for officers who may be required to fill the appointment of Supreme Commander in wartime.'8 At the Cabinet Defence Committee, Bevin supported the appointment of a Supreme Commander, and so, less vigorously, did the Colonial Secretary and the Prime Minister, but the final decision went in favour of the COS.9 Killearn's deputy, Michael Wright, visited Saigon in September, and discussed closer collaboration with d'Argenlieu in defence, food, reconstruction, and information. As a follow-up, Jean Le Roy of the French embassy called on Dening in London in November and suggested, omitting defence, closer contacts and collaboration between Indo-China and adjacent territories.10 'From the point of view of the Far East we should like to see closer collaboration with the French. But adjacent territories have tended in the past to look somewhat askance at French colonial activities in Indo-China, and in face of present nationalistic tendencies in Burma and Malaya . . . it is advisable not to press too strongly for the time being.'11 Regionalism was still an objective, but the tensions were yet unresolved. Britain had to lead, without dominating. It had to reconcile others, but it also had its own challenges to face. The strikes in Burma

What Britain did in Burma was the affair of the Burma Office, but nonetheless important for the regional aspirations of the other departments concerned with Southeast Asia. Burma was, of course, a traditional source of rice, and thus a potential source of economic stability. It was also a political example: if Britain and the Burmans came together, it would offer a testimony of its intent and a lesson for others. What Britain could do in Burma, however, was limited, not only by the problems it faced there, but by its prime concern with India. In mid-1946 the government still wished to adhere to the White Paper programme for Burma. Maybe under wiser leadership than DormanSmith's that was still possible. A despatch to the interim Governor, Sir Henry Knight, on Aung San had followed discussions the Prime Minister had with Mountbatten. It did not envisage a major change of strategy, but rather tactical changes which Attlee would not have entrusted to

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Dorman-Smith, but which a different governor might use to avoid substantial alteration of the White Paper programme. The essential thing was to 'hold' the position in Burma and keep it as quiet as possible pending the elections. The 'lull' should be used to 'explore the position in the political field'. Aung San and the AFPFL were likely to win the elections and were the 'most important single political force in Burma. It would be unrealistic to fail to adjust our policy accordingly.' Knight should make contact with Aung San and 'find out what his terms are for co-operation within the White Paper'. Discussions on getting them into the Executive Council - with the AFPFL in a majority, but 'preferably not an overwhelming majority' - should not break down over the allocation of the important Home portfolio or the retention of any particular member of the existing council. T would not contemplate going outside scope of White Paper.' But within its terms the administration could be 'so conducted as to give maximum possible freedom of action to members of the reconstituted Executive Council'. A 'cautious hand' was advisable over transferring defence and external affairs, though possibly a non-official Counsellor might finally be accepted.12 Public opinion, Sir Henry felt, expected Dorman-Smith or his successor to bring better constitutional terms from London. If the Executive Council were altered now, Burma might then expect still more and it would become difficult to give more and keep within the White Paper.13 The government decided not to approve even the interim step: 'it would on the whole be wiser to hold our hand on the assumption that the country will keep quiet until the regular Governor is in charge, and then to make really determined effort to get AFPFL into a reconstituted interim Executive Council.'14 If it drew back from positive moves before the new Governor arrived, the government also wanted to clear away the obstacles in his path in advance. The most important was the murder charge against Aung San. His rebellion had been condoned, and the Supreme Commander had accepted him as the resistance leader. In any case he could plead that no British law was running at the time. 'We think it impossible at this stage to allow this murder charge against him to go forward . . .' A general amnesty was impractical: other suggestions would be welcome. 'We think it desirable to avoid his appearing in court, and our objective is to wash this charge out.'15 Sir Henry was equal to this. 'One day the draft of a pretty little Act came out of his office.'16 He introduced the Sanction for Prosecution (War Time Offences) bill, 1946, designed to prevent cases like those of Aung San coming into court without the Governor's special sanction.17 Hughes, the Governor's secretary, saw Aung San at his house on 13 July. He would not commit himself about entering the Executive

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Council, but said he could be 'content with no less political progress than India had achieved'.18 Early in August, when Knight himself saw the AFPFL leader, he volunteered that the new Governor must come out with a new policy with proposals that go beyond the White Paper. If he does well and good. If not it is no good his coming. AFPFL would be willing to come into the Executive Council along with others such as Ba Maw, and U Saw, provided it were made clear to them that the Executive Council would work as a National Government. . . Aung San, however, did not think the communists would participate. The frontier areas problem could be settled by discussion, provided there were no third party.19 The rift between the AFPFL and the communists had been growing. In his conversation with Hughes, Aung San welcomed the government's ban on Thakin Soe's communists, responsible for much agitation and disorder. About this His Majesty's government had been doubtful. It hoped, it seems, that the communists might be involved in the new moves to deal with political parties. But if that were impossible, then, it appeared to Knight, the opportunity should be taken to get Aung San into the Executive Council, though once he was in, the ban might be lifted and Aung San would have to deal with Soe.20 Ranee, the new Governor, went out carrying little or nothing new, despite Aung San's firm indication that it was needed. Would it have been better to make an offer, rather than wait for Aung San to start working on the new Governor? The wait could not be a long one. Either way, more demands would follow, no doubt. Breaking with the communists, the AFPFL still had to overcome their clamour against compromise with the imperialists through participation in imperialist institutions. The margin within which the British had to work was always narrower than they thought and the hopes of realising their aims slimmer, given the irrepressible desire of the Burmans for independence and the strength of the AFPFL. But once the British had recognised that strength, delay only made it less likely that Aung San and his colleagues would be able to accept anything short of complete independence. Concern over the communists, though never so great as in Malaya, perhaps made the British more ready to compromise: it reinforced the search for stability. But it was not mere obstinacy that made a policy of ready concession nevertheless difficult to adopt: Burma had to be seen in the context not only of parliamentary and public opinion at home, but of the overall development of Britain's policy in Asia and in particular in India. Laithwaite had prepared a memorandum on a directive for the new Governor, discussing it with Ranee himself and with Monteath.21 The

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policy, he assumed, was to secure, in advance of the elections and as soon as possible, a more representative Executive Council, including a team from the AFPFL, but not their monopoly, nor overwhelming preponderance, 'such expansion or reconstruction to be within the scheme of the White Paper of 1945'. Monteath even conceived, though as 'a great gamble', that Aung San might be Home Member, 'on the principle of poacher turned gamekeeper'. What line should the Governor take if pressed as to the Executive Council's pre-election position? Aung San wanted a 'national government'. 'If he means a Government free from the operation of the special responsibilities or the Governor's individual judgment and discretion, or in full charge of Defence, External Affairs, and/or the Frontier Areas, that could not be conceded, since it would be outside the scheme of the White Paper and would also mean amendment of the Act.' But there was much to be said for associating Burmese ministers with responsibilities they would soon have to carry themselves and for avoiding friction on the issue. Ranee suggested associating with a European counsellor for defence and external affairs a Burmese associate counsellor, and Laithwaite favoured this. The concept of an associate counsellor might apply to the frontier areas, too, and it would help to remove any suggestion that the policy for the frontier areas was 'Machiavellian'. Laithwaite also dealt with the old, but unresolved, question of the timing of dominion status. He gave the standard answer: that it largely depended upon the Burmese and that the aim was full self-government within the empire at the earliest possible date. The right of secession, another point, was inherent in dominion status, though it had not been said in so many words in Burma's case. If a statement were necessary, the Governor should consult His Majesty's government, as also on Burma's right to 'independence'. 'We may be certain that Burma will want everything that has been conceded to India. Just as in the case of India we have conceded "independence" so will it be necessary to do so for Burma. But in the interest of having something to give away it might be wise not to take that fence yet.'22 The statement Aung San made to Knight was seen by Laithwaite as 'the opening of the bidding . . . The new Governor is on friendly terms with him and will it is hoped be able to reach a modus vivendi, which without conceding anything outside the White Paper will get the AFPFL in'.23 At ministerial level, some minor alterations were made to the draft directive that had been drawn up, but they gave Ranee little or no more latitude.24 Furthermore, the Secretary of State informed the Prime Minister, Ranee had been told 'that while he should endeavour to elicit as friendly a reception from the Burmese as possible he must not give the impression that he is bringing them a new policy and certainly not

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one which goes outside the scheme of the White Paper of 1945 and the Act of 1935. If there is to be alteration', Pethick-Lawrence had himself added, 'it can only be made later after he has looked round and then only subject to direct approval by H.M.G. . . .'25 Ranee made his opening speech in Rangoon on 2 September.26 On 6 September the Rangoon police went on strike.27 On 7 September the AFPFL declared the grievances of the police legitimate: 'all these unrests which have now permeated even ranks of government services are inevitable outcome of policy of British Government as being pursued in this country in accordance with provisions of White Paper.' Even if this strike were settled, it added, such situations would 'keep on coming up' unless a national government were at the helm of affairs as sought in August 1945.28 In London the Times declared that the public in Burma was supporting the police because it resented the composition of the Executive Council, Britain's neglect of Burma, the White Paper. Influential organisations would serve on the council if its powers were increased in line with those of the interim government in India.29 Laithwaite recognised the hand of Tin Tut, at this point correspondent of the Times. 'There could, of course, be no justification for handing over to elements with no electoral mandate or backing powers comparable to those of the interim Government in India.'30 But Ranee pointed out that a general strike seemed likely. If, as he assumed, His Majesty's government did not wish to 'put the issue to force', the remedy must be political. Could that be reconciled with the White Paper?31 Ranee telegraphed his recommendations on 16 September. The AFPFL were 'behind this trouble', and if not checked by 'political action', a general strike would break out. Many would be afraid not to strike. 'A sinister feature . . . has been discipline of the strikers and public' The PYA, replacing the police, were 'active and effective' in Rangoon. 'This influence could easily be used for subversive purposes. It is well known that AFPFL are organised and are anxious for power and that the Communists have gone underground . . . The possibilities . . . of widespread disturbance, if situation is allowed to drift, are strong.' The GOC considered that he did not have sufficient force to deal with widespread rebellion, in view of the possible attitude of the Burma Army and the limits on the use of Indian troops. The Governor offered three alternatives. The first he presented was to ask Aung San to form a government, conceding some or all of the AFPFL demands. To grant them would end the strike, but mean 'handing over the country to a number of untried (largely) politicians with a strong communist trend . . . It would mean the tearing up of the white paper'. But the AFPFL held 'all the cards', and reducing its demands was 'problematical'. A second alternative was a coalition

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without the AFPFL, but Ranee doubted whether Saw, 'the most forceful character in Burma', could achieve the success he thought he could. Even that alternative would require 'some gesture', such as the association of a Burman with defence and external affairs, and it might provoke rebellion. A third alternative was a coalition, including the AFPFL and conceding some of its demands, including some role in defence and external affairs, possibly also in regard to the frontier areas, and some relaxation of financial control. Suggestions were that a member of council should be put in charge of defence and external affairs and should also be appointed Counsellor; that council should be kept fully informed on the frontier areas; and that financial control should be relaxed through the making of a lump-sum grant by the Treasury. The third alternative Ranee wished to try first. If it failed, he would try the second. He also wanted authority to put forward the suggestion of a high-powered mission from London if 'complete deadlock' were reached and the situation could not be held in any other way.32 The AFPFL had no electoral mandate, the Secretary of State commented. 'They are now asking to be taken at their own value. But I have no doubt. . . that they are entitled to claim that they are the strongest organised body in Burma, and I shall be surprised if they do not prove quite ruthless in negotiation. If they think that they have us on the run they will be even more inclined to press their extreme demands.' The 'only one' of 'these possible extreme demands' that presented 'real difficulty' was over the frontier areas: responsibility could not be handed over to the Executive Council without the risk of 'serious disturbances' and 'a very public breach of faith'. Referring to the interim government in India, the AFPFL were undoubtedly indicating that they wanted to be 'placed in a position in which the Governor should not normally exercise his special responsibilities or his powers of superintendence and control in opposition to any recommendations that they may make in the political or any other field. I do not think that we could go as far as this, given the fact that we are still bound by the Act. . .' The Secretary of State stressed that the Governor must keep the initiative. He should be authorised to go ahead with his third alternative, subject to the caution over the frontier areas.33 The India and Burma Committee, chaired by Attlee, discussed the Secretary of State's paper on 18 September. Stopford, Acting SACSEA, had been authorised to send reinforcements from Malaya if needed. It was agreed that, 'if the Governor was to be reasonably forthcoming on political matters, it was none the less important that he should have an adequate backing of force. It would be fatal to allow the A.F.P.F.L. to believe that we were yielding to their demands solely through weakness.' The committee agreed that Ranee's proposals were in line with his

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directive. It accepted that on the frontier areas, but stressed that they could not be handed over entirely to Burmese control. 34 The same day the Viceroy reported that Nehru had indicated his opposition to the use of Indian troops in Burma. 35 The Governor had meanwhile agreed to call secretly on Aung San at his home. 36 In the interview Ranee outlined the situation as he saw it: the goodwill of the British government; the risk of trouble, possibly interracial; the dangers of inflation; and the need to keep politics out of the Burma Army. Aung San pointed to Burmese goodwill a year before. The British had failed to take advantage of it. Negotiations with the AFPFL stopped suddenly: 'it was as if an iron curtain had been dropped'. A sense of frustration developed, and the cost of living made the frustration worse. He had difficulty in restraining some of his party. Thakin Soe was 'very active' and the country might swing in that direction. His Majesty's government must make a gesture: Wavell's statement before the elections in India was 'far more progressive' than anything said to Burma. He agreed to visit the Governor.37 Further meetings with Aung San were held in the context of the instructions Ranee received from London. They led to agreement on six AFPFL members in an Executive Council of eleven, with Aung San as Counsellor for Defence and Deputy Chairman. 38 Laithwaite warmly congratulated Ranee 'on this most satisfactory result and on getting so good a representation of the top boys! Ministers will be delighted . . . It is a real personal triumph for you . . ,'39 In fact the room for manoeuvre had been greatly expanded, not only beyond what DormanSmith had been allowed, but beyond the directive originally given to Ranee. Nor, of course, was this the end of AFPFL demands, as the government seemed to think: it was a new beginning. Giving the league responsibility was not likely to moderate its policy towards the British government. By the reconstitution of the council, the historian B. R. Pearn later wrote, 'a revolution was effected'.40 It was the belief of the Chief Secretary, F. S. V. Donnison, too, that the episode marked the effective passing of power from British to Burmese, though the formal transfer of power did not take place for another fifteen months. The strikes, which had paralyzed the government of the country, were settled by the AFPFL because they had gained their demands for representation in the Governor's Executive Council - demands which gave them a firm hold on real power. On any issue of importance the Governor could no longer afford to disregard the wishes of the AFPFL.41 At the time, however, it was thought that getting the AFPFL into the council might temper it.

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Aung San had included Thein Pe in the council, but he resigned over the handling of the All-Burma TUC strike.42 Driving the communists into opposition had its risks, however. Aung San, too, had still - perhaps all the more - to take account of left-wing opposition. The AFPFL/BCP split meant that there were 'these rival factions, each trying to outbid each other, or trying to denigrate promises made by one of the other parties'.43 The statement of policy the council proposed to issue, as Ranee reported on 28 October, included among its aims: 'to transform the present Government well before elections into a National Government with status and powers (? of such). We intend also . . . to negotiate with H.M.G. so that coming general election maybe for a Constituent Assembly free from participation of those not of Burmese nationality and with untrammelled powers to determine the future constitution of Burma.' It added that 'our guiding objective will be the establishment of a Sovereign State in the very near future'.44 The statement was indicative of the council's anxiety, as the Burma Office put it, ' (no doubt with its eye on the elections or threat represented to AFPFL by secession of Communist Party) to try to jump claims and put themselves in position to show that they have achieved really substantial advances at expense of H.M.G . . .'45 The statement, as issued, added references to the frontier areas. It aimed at cordial relations with the frontier peoples with a view to the formation of a union or federation by willing consent, involving autonomy in respect of the central government, but financial assistance from it. Like a recent BCP resolution, it advocated the association of the frontier peoples with the constituent assembly. At the Burma Office, A. F. Morley thought this was not at all surprising, and was inclined to think that it might indeed be on the right lines. As Laithwaite said, it would need 'careful working out'.46 Increasingly working with Aung San, Tin Tut, Saw's former associate, prepared proposals for the immediate grant of a fuller measure of selfgovernment to Burma. 'It was the old bogey of India stealing a march on Burma that prompted him to write it', Ranee observed,47 less than adequately. A member of the Executive Council, Tin Tut argued, should be placed squarely in charge of defence and external affairs as with the interim government in India. The scheduled areas should also be brought within the purview of the Executive Council, with the convention that the portfolio should be held by a Shan, Kachin or Chin. Matters in which the Governor acted at his discretion should be converted into matters in which he acted with advice. Non-resident voters should not take part in the elections for the legislature, which should be the constitution-making body.48 'The pace here is increasing', Ranee telegraphed. The Executive Council was to hold a special meeting to discuss Tin Tut's note. 'In my

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opinion the white paper is now out of date and the time has come for a fresh approach to be made.' The military situation was 'weakening', too, as a conversation with the GOC indicated. The situation could not be dealt with by telegram, and Ranee proposed to send MacDougall to London.49 T am convinced that the situation cannot be handled here unless H.M.G. are prepared substantially to increase their own pace to meet the increased pace here and to have a programme which, while allowing for this increased pace, is also realistic in its essentials.' MacDougall was bringing a new memorandum outlining a programme which might provide 'a solid basis for future developments', and to the broad ideas of which Aung San and Tin Tut had 'reacted favourably'.50 Ranee also reported the deadlines now set by the AFPFL Working Committee. It wanted the Executive Council to be a national government by 31 January 1947. His Majesty's government should declare that Burma would have its freedom by 31 January 1948. The elections should be for a constituent assembly. If the programme could not be achieved, the AFPFL representatives should leave the council, and meanwhile action committees should organise demonstrations to keep up the pressure.51 Before MacDougall's arrival, the Burma Office considered Tin Tut's proposals. The termination of the Governor's discretionary powers would require legislation, Morley pointed out. So would alteration of the franchise, though it might be possible for representatives of foreign races elected to the legislature to stand down if it were used as a constituent assembly.52 What Tin Tut wanted, wrote Laithwaite, was a transfer of power to a caucus with no electoral mandate, free from any control by a legislature, by the Governor, or even by a nominated legislative council. Laithwaite could not think that parliament would accept this, but it would appeal to 'political elements' in Burma.53 'It is necessary to take a firm stand against Tin Tut's proposals', Monteath added. Tt is all part and parcel of the issue of policy forced on us by the introduction into the Governor's Council of the AFPFL in a majority proportion, viz. whether the authority of Parliament over the administration of Burma is to be surrendered . . . this cannot be done without legislation by Parliament. . ,'54 The Private Secretary, F. F. Turnbull, declared that the abolition of the Governor's discretionary and individual judgment powers would 'seriously undermine the Indian position, where we are endeavouring in the face of great difficulties to maintain the existing constitution . . ,'55 The memorandum MacDougall brought to London suggested that Aung San was being attacked by the communists, and that his own left wing was wavering: he had to show 'that his bargain with the British had paid good dividends'. His alternative was to declare that he had tried to

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cooperate with the British but found it impossible, then to resign and lead an anti-British campaign. If that took place, no other party could keep the government going, strikes would paralyse the administration and there would be insufficient military force to maintain order, even supposing Indian troops could be used. Some steps should therefore be taken to encourage the AFPFL to continue cooperating, the memorandum argued, and delaying tactics should be avoided. 'Once let them enter into negotiations as national representatives with H.M.G. direct, and their influence in the country will grow . . . To hold them off... is to expose them to the fate of the Mensheviks; they will be devoured by Extremists, who are much less likely to deal in a friendly way with H.M.G.' The White Paper programme should be reviewed. The British government should declare that it was willing to discuss with a delegation from the Executive Council the removal of restrictions on the freedom of action of the present Burma government. The discussions would focus on amending the 1935 act and preparing supplementary bilateral agreements. The act could hardly be altered before the elections, but the British could undertake to do it as soon as possible thereafter. Meanwhile the Burman representatives would come to recognise the problems involved, which now seemed to them unreal excuses for British delay. 'There is a new spirit of nationalism abroad tempered and restrained, but quite unyielding. H.M.G. must either make terms with it quickly, or prepare without delay to hold the country by military force.'56 Laithwaite had recognised the weakness of the government's position and the strength of the AFPFL's: it was also of 'world importance' to avoid 'having to try to hold the position by force', and to avoid 'a sit[uatio]n in wh[ich] Burman supplies of rice to S.E.A. dry up or greatly diminish'. The aim must be 'an orderly and reasoned transfer of power from H.M.G. to a rep[resentati]ve Burman body'. If Burma was to stay in the Commonwealth, the 'only sugg[estio]n so far', that required preliminary discussion on the stages and method of transfer. The interim aims were therefore to slow down the pace, to find a procedure for working out new arrangements, perhaps based on the 1935 constitution, and to avoid if possible further extension of the powers of the Executive Council but also its resignation.57 He found the memorandum 'somewhat disappointing': it took too little account of the items of policy to be regulated, of Parliament, of India. But now that MacDougall had come home with proposals, of the general trend of which Aung San and Tin Tut had been advised, His Majesty's government had 'to make a move'. A declaration reiterating its pledges would have to be made, but it was unlikely to suffice and negotiations would be needed. 'Our object must be if we can to hold the

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position until there have been elections (even at the cost, perhaps, of some understanding as to what we wd. then be ready to concede), and we have a representative body with which to deal. . .' Discussions in London were MacDougall's suggestion; but AFPFL leaders might not wish to be away from Burma for very long before the elections. A Cabinet mission to Burma would be difficult to mount when the Indian business was 'still at a delicate point'. Laithwaite therefore now favoured sending a high-powered negotiator to Burma, such as Killearn. That would have the further advantages of leaving His Majesty's government in reserve if negotiations broke down; of facilitating contact with other parties; and of diminishing the risk that the opposition in Burma could attack conclusions reached in Britain.58 A memorandum for the India and Burma Committee was circulated together with a memorandum by Chettle, the Acting Inspector-General of Police, on the weakness of the security situation.59 Though based largely on Laithwaite's comments, it came down in favour not of a Cabinet mission, nor of using Killearn, but of inviting representatives of the Executive Council to London for discussions. The team should not be limited to AFPFL members and Saw might be considered for inclusion. Before the invitations were issued, 'we must ascertain through the Governor that it will be accepted'. The terms could not be as widely drawn as MacDougall envisaged, and acceptance of the Tin Tut propositions 'would involve the transfer of practically complete control to a caucus before the political and administrative issues involved have been satisfactorily cleared, in advance of elections, and in advance of the framing of a new Constitution for Burma'. In most cases legislation would be required, and legislation to transfer powers to a body with no electoral backing would be 'highly controversial. In any case it is undesirable, because of its reaction on the Indian position . . .' The elections could not be for a constituent assembly, but the legislature could be used as the basis for the constitution-making body. A final issue was raised by an addition that had been made to Tin Tut's memorandum, the right of Burma to choose between independence outside and independence inside the Commonwealth. 'Hitherto we have not gone beyond committing ourselves to full self-government within the Empire. The indications are that Burma would herself prefer to remain within the Commonwealth' - Aung San had told Ranee he would advocate dominion status when the constitution was being framed60 - 'but (especially with the example of India before her) we cannot be certain that this view will prevail. . .' It would be wise to give Burma the option, like India, 'and take the risk of her exercising it in an unwise way'.61 The committee, chaired by the Prime Minister on 26 November, was addressed by MacDougall. There was 'general recognition by Ministers

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that, as the leaders of the A.F.P.F.L. were the effective leaders of a genuine national movement, it was to our interests that they should continue to co-operate with us and we with them'. It would accordingly be 'wise to take such steps as were practicable immediately and without waiting until after the elections next April to meet their anxiety for constitutional advance'. To arrange for a delegation would ensure their continued cooperation and strengthen their hands against the communists, and it would also bring home 'the administrative complications of the constitutional changes for which they were pressing'. The delegation might want to reduce the voting age for the elections and avoid the reservation of certain seats for non-Burmese interests. This would require legislation, which was not practicable. But the committee concluded that, if the legislature were only the basis of the constitutionmaking body, 'there should not be difficulty about the exclusion from the constituent body of non-Burmese interests'.62 The resulting despatch to Ranee reiterated the objections to conceding Tin Tut's demands: they would involve transferring 'practically complete control to a caucus' before issues had been clarified, elections held, a constitution framed. They could, however, be discussed. 'Our object would be to hold position if possible until there have been elections and we have a Legislature elected on a democratic basis with a government responsible to it to which we can transfer certain further powers and with which we could negotiate arrangements for the future government of Burma; and meanwhile to try to bring home to the Council the practical difficulties of immediate action on the lines they want. . .' A small delegation should be invited. Preferably they should come after Christmas if 'so long delay could be faced'. (T don't particularly want to spend Christmas week interviewing them', PethickLawrence had declared.)63 Before the invitation was issued, Ranee should sound out Aung San and the council. 'But we do not want to be exposed to the suggestion that in extending the invitation to discuss them we have accepted in principle any of the Council's demands . . .'64 Ranee discussed the situation with Aung San and with the veteran politician Ba Pe, without disclosing the proposed invitation. Both alluded to the communists. Aung San wanted the British government to make statements as definite about Burma as those about India, and Ba Pe stressed that the communists should not be allowed to exploit the differences between the AFPFL and the Governor.65 It is 'essential', Ranee commented, 'that some concrete result should emerge from the visit of the delegation'.66 Indeed the Executive Committee of the AFPFL now pointed out that when the Cabinet mission went to India it was announced that it was going to take steps to form a constituent assembly and an interim government. When His Majesty's government invited the

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Executive Council delegation to London, it would be necessary to announce that it was for the purpose of 'concretising' four basic principles: an interim national government with full powers; the election held not for restoring the 1935 act but for convening a constituent assembly for the whole of Burma, free of the participation of nonBurman nationals; immediate steps 'to prepare the way for a free united Burma'; and a 'categorical' declaration that Burma would get 'complete independence within a year'. If no such announcement could be made, no AFPFL members were to join the delegation.67 The Governor asked Aung San to call, and he brought Tin Tut with him. Aung San said that he would recommend the acceptance of dominion status, but the Statute of Westminster implied that a dominion could secede if it wished. 'This implication had never been stated publicly as far as Burma was concerned and he considered that the people of Burma should choose their own destiny.' His Majesty's government had always been less definite in regard to Burma than in regard to India. Ranee quoted the Prime Minister's statement of 15 March, indicating that the Cabinet mission was going to India 'to help her to attain her freedom', also that India could elect to remain in the Commonwealth or not. Aung San thought a similar statement would facilitate the despatch of a Burma delegation. This he repeated in a second interview on 7 December. Ranee urged the British government to accept the concept: 'time for equivocation is past'. It would consolidate the AFPFL. If it left the Executive Council, there was no alternative.68 The concession was a substantial one, Laithwaite commented, and 'the only concession of major importance that we can hope to offer to the delegation'. If it were made now, Britain would have little to offer in London, and the delegation would have little to carry back to Burma, thus increasing 'the risk of a break'; but, 'given the weakness of our position in Burma', it might be best to get the delegation to London and try 'to influence them in the right direction'.69 Monteath agreed that the British were not in a position to refuse a concession that would bring the delegation to London: for if the AFPFL refused and left the council, 'a situation would result which could not be controlled without hard fighting'. Though he disliked giving way to blackmail and recognised that, 'as always with blackmail', giving way might mean more of it, Monteath thought that the statement could be adopted.70 The arguments were rehearsed in a Cabinet paper. If the card were played now, it could not be played later. The AFPFL might return to Burma with little to show, and become 'more intransigent'. Logic or reason could have little effect in dealing with a 'politically immature' body, which had no appreciation of the weakness of Burma, even as a dominion, or the irrelevance of the Indian analogy, and which

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'naturally' ignored 'the fact that the importance from the general point of view of retaining Burma is markedly less than the importance of retaining India'. The Governor's argument for backing up the AFPFL was not entirely persuasive: its insistence on a concession designed to convince its adherents of its strength left room for doubt that it was strong. A commitment would be better avoided were Britain 'in a stronger position'. But the morale of the police was shaken; Indian troops could not be used; only 2,000 British troops remained; the plains element of the Burma Army was not dependable and to use the hill men would be undesirable for its long-term effects. If the AFPFL resigned and provoked trouble or, more likely, stimulated a general strike and set up a parallel government, Britain would find it 'very difficult to meet the situation. And a humiliating climb-down would be most undesirable.' The Secretary of State therefore recommended that the concession should be made, provided that Aung San gave an assurance that there would be no further bargaining.71 The Cabinet was unwilling to go so far. 'In discussion there was general agreement that there could be no devolution of responsible government to Burma until after the elections in April. Some Ministers were not satisfied that it would be desirable even after that date; for the Burmese had not so far given any convincing proof of their ability to govern themselves.' It would be unfortunate if Burma's advance to self-government appeared more rapid than Ceylon's, the Colonial Secretary said, and the aspirations of the Malays would also be influenced by events in Burma as well as by those in Indonesia. The Cabinet favoured a statement somewhat less specific than that of 15 March, to be drafted by the Prime Minister and the Secretary of State.72 Subsequently Attlee and Pethick-Lawrence decided that it would be better to give Aung San a straight answer to a straight question. The telegram they drafted asked the Governor's views on declining to make any further commitments in advance of the discussions. Could the invitation be issued anyway? Ranee should accompany his comments with an appreciation of the security situation.73 The draft was discussed by the Cabinet with the Chief of the Imperial General Staff (CIGS) present. British troops could not be made available, Montgomery said, 'without retarding the demobilisation scheme', though three battalions might be sent from Singapore at the cost of accepting some risk for Hong Kong. The Cabinet agreed that a cruiser should be kept within three days' steaming of Rangoon and, after amendment, approved the telegram.74 The Governor had meanwhile discussed the security situation with General Stopford, General Briggs, MacDougall, R. G. B. Prescott, and W. I. J. Wallace, the Chief Secretary. Prescott, the Inspector-General,

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thought that the police would strike in January; Wallace thought that they would not do so if a delegation were invited to London.75 Stopford believed it 'imperative that political action be directed towards maintaining peaceful situation or we may be in serious military position'. 76 Given the deadline of 31 January and the lack of public response to the AFPFL requests, Ranee again decided that the situation could not support the delay involved in further telegraphic communication. He saw Aung San on 15 December, and 'it was clear that he had not moved his ground and that a statement something on the lines of Prime Minister's speech was essential before AFPFL were prepared to join delegation'. Tin Tut, who accompanied him, drafted a formula. On 16 December, they returned, and Laithwaite, on a long-planned visit, was also present. A further draft was read, and Aung San agreed that he would give an assurance that the AFPFL would abide by the formula once it had been accepted. Maybe, Ranee told the Burma Office, His Majesty's government would consider he had gone too far. But '(we) must do everything in our power to prevent AFPFL from leaving Council and particularly on an issue which involves Burmese nationalistic aspirations'. If AFPFL went out on such an issue, no other party could take over. 'It might be possible for another party to make a case that AFPFL had been unduly intransigent in face of friendly gestures by H.M.G. but that would probably cut (?very little) ice.' Every party had made nationalism its basic platform. 'Under present circumstances they can do nothing else.' If the AFPFL left the government there would be 'anti-British outbreaks', and while some might disagree with the AFPFL's stance, few would not be 'intimidated into silent action'. Indian troops could not be used. Sending substantial British reinforcements, 'even if they are available is like locking the stable door after the horse has gone', and the administrative situation of the military forces was 'desperate'. The British government 'could not afford internationally to take suppressive action (and even the despatch of reinforcements now might provoke that interpretation) nor could they afford to concede by force later what they could concede with dignity now . . .'77 Late on the 17th Ranee received another draft of the proposed statement from Aung San. It went somewhat further than the one that had been read to him earlier. It included a reference to the option on membership of the Commonwealth. But it also declared that it was the British government's intention that the Executive Council would function as an interim national government until the election was over and, though it did not say that the election would be for a constituent assembly, it did say that the constitution would be framed by members who were nationals of Burma. The aim was to assist Burma 'to attain

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freedom as speedily as possible' and 'to help Burma to emerge as a free united nation'. There was some vagueness, but Ranee thought that was designed to help His Majesty's government as well as the AFPFL. He did, however, admit that 'the price has hardened'. Perhaps that resulted partly from delay, and more delay might mean further hardening. 78 Ranee added that in his opinion the AFPFL wanted to stay within the Empire. Aung San had said more than once that while he has anything to do with it Burma will remain within the Empire. Their desire to be free to decide and their insistence on getting Burma as much on the map as India is a very understandable psychological reaction. Given freedom to decide I have every hope that they will decide to remain in the Empire . . .79 The India and Burma Committee considered this telegram on 19 December, along with a report from the Chiefs of Staff. This indicated that if Indian troops could not be used, 'then we cannot meet the military requirements of the situation'. 80 The Secretary of State saw 'no alternative but to go as far as we possibly can to meet the views of AFPFL and in particular to give the assurance asked for regarding the right of the Burmese after the Constitution has been framed to leave the Commonwealth' .81 In the discussion Alexander, minister without portfolio, 'regretted that the pressure of events had forced the Governor to go further than the Cabinet had in mind. There was a danger that His Majesty's Government might find themselves in a humiliating position.' It was suggested that the devastation of the war made Burma less ready for self-government than India. But the Burmese had India very much in mind, and in one sense Burma was more fitted for independence than India since she did not suffer from the same communal divisions. Nor must we forget that we had persuaded the Dutch, much against their original inclination, to accept a settlement involving almost complete independence for Indonesia. Could we in the face of this take a different line in Burma? What indeed should we achieve by so doing? There was no party other than the AFPFL with which the British government could come to terms, and as an alternative it would have to attempt to hold Burma by force. 'The result would surely be to ensure that Burma left the Empire as soon as she could.' The balance of opinion favoured a statement that, without using Aung San's words, would give the assurance that 'the people of Burma would be free under a constitution of their own making to choose whether their country should remain within the British Empire or not'. The elections could not be for a constituent assembly but, as in Bengal, the special interests

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might agree not to exercise their rights. The Executive Council could not be treated as a national government, but a convention could be established, as in India, by which its advice was normally accepted.82 At the Cabinet meeting the Minister of Food added in the argument about rice: widespread disturbances in Burma might mean that exports would not be available for the rest of Southeast Asia. The Cabinet disliked giving assurances in advance, but decided to do so. 'If, as it appeared, Aung San was disposed to be friendly and to work for keeping Burma within the Commonwealth, there were advantages in strengthening his position in Burma.' Proper safeguards must be secured for the hill peoples and the Shan states, said the Colonial Secretary.83 The statement presented the delegation in terms of the wish of the Burmese people to expedite the advance to self-government contemplated in the White Paper, and it indicated that the British government wished the Burman government to exercise 'a full measure of authority' within the existing constitution.84 It was not clear whether Aung San's phrase about 'a free united nation' was a reference to the frontier areas. The Prime Minister's statement omitted all reference to them so as to avoid 'controversy'.85 The 1935 act had been left 'a long way behind', Donnison wrote. 'Things are moving very fast in Burma now and unless the changed atmosphere and temper, and the transfer of power to the Executive Council, are appreciated we may well be in for a repetition of events in Indonesia.'86 Whether or not His Majesty's government had recognised the AFPFL's strength, it had recognised its own weakness. Perhaps it had not foreseen that, once in the Executive Council, the AFPFL would maintain its pressures. Now it had resolved to move a further step, again with the hope of domesticating the AFPFL. That, it was thought, would enhance the possibility that Burma would choose to stay in the Commonwealth. It was something like the Mountbatten programme, though no more likely to be successful because of its delay. India remained a potent factor for both parties. For Aung San and the AFPFL, it offered arguments and precedents which, if not used by them, would be used by their rivals. For Britain, it was more of a constraint than an advantage. The Burman nationalists could not be offered more than their counterparts in India, and Indian troops could not be used to constrain them. At the same time, demobilisation meant that British troops could not fill the gap. The British were thus negotiating from a position of actual and perceived weakness. That encouraged them to make concessions to the AFPFL. Those, however, also fell within the pattern of their approach to Southeast Asia, both reinforcing it and being reinforced by it: they seemed the more statesmanlike. What had happened in Indonesia was

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to be avoided. Their involvement in pushing the Dutch towards compromise - though hardly the recognition of independence, as Alexander put it - meant that they too had to compromise, practising what they preached. Almost to the day, however, conflict had broken out in Vietnam. One factor - in the Dutch as well as the French case, indeed was the lack of decisive government at home. Though sensitive to criticism, Labour in Britain had, by contrast, an incontrovertible majority. The US had demonstrated an interest in Burma that could only encourage compromise, though it did not 'prompt' it, as has been suggested.87 The charge, Gallman, was instructed in November to ask whether Britain's Burma policy would parallel its India policy. Burma's strategic position on projected American air routes, as buffer between India and China, and as potential rice exporter justified US interest in 'peaceful and orderly constitutional progress'. But unless such progress were sufficiently rapid non-communist nationalists might become 'discouraged' and join the communist boycott of elections.88 In December the State Department was apprehensive lest the 'unbending' attitude of Laithwaite and MacDougall would reverse the 'promising trend' Ranee had begun.89 F. W. H. Smith of the Burma Office briefed the embassy on the invitation. The State Department publicly welcomed it on 21 December: 'it is our confident hope London talks will result in future progress toward agreed goal of full self-government for that important Asiatic country'.90 The clash in Tonkin

The Foreign Office had been optimistic about the Ho-Sainteny accord of 6 March, believing indeed that the French were more progressive than the Dutch. Meiklereid, the consul-general, had been less positive. The French, he thought, should concentrate on Cochin-China, leaving the Republic with full responsibility in the north. Even that notion, however, ran up against the aspiration of the republic to unite all Vietnam. Meiklereid did not rule out compromise between the French and Ho Chi Minh. But again it would depend on the approach of both parties. If he was indeed more moderate than others in the leadership of the Viet Minh, Ho could not abandon its basic objectives. To draw a line between him and 'extremists', as the French were at this time inclined to do, was an impossible and self-contradictory task, even though communists were not the only extremists, nor necessarily the most extreme. Like the Dutch, but with even less prospect of success, the French seemed to think they could find elements that would work with them, if only freed from the constraints of their extremist associates. The illusion was strengthened by a belief that the colonial power could assist the

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cause of the 'moderates' by decisive blows at the extremists. Such were likely in fact to be counter-productive. The Europeans were too much in the grip of a previous policy, under which their control had been exerted by a mixture of force and collaboration. It was difficult, perhaps impossible, to reconstitute that policy, and to apply it anew. British policy was not wholly different. The British, too, sought collaborators, and when they could, acted forcefully against extremists. But the applications of the policy differed. The British took a wider view of the parameters of compromise. They had a wider range of collaborators and marginalised fewer extremists. Furthermore, they acted with violence only when sure of success. That had, of course, been a colonial maxim: prolonged wars demonstrated weakness, whereas the aim was to demonstrate strength. In Burma, where it was risky, force was not applied: it was better to compromise with the nationalists, at least marginalising the communists. In Malaya a prolonged struggle was not in the event avoided, but it was ultimately successful. Much depended, Meiklereid prophesied, on the post-accord negotiations. They took place against a background of increasing tension. The continued presence of Chinese troops helped to preserve the fragile truce in the north. Most had, however, gone by June 1946 and all by midSeptember. The tripartite sharing of power in Tonkin was followed by an 'explosive bipolarity'.91 The High Commissioner in Saigon, d'Argenlieu, saw the accord of March as one of five accords to be made with states of the federation. After a conference with the Viet Minh at Dalat, he determined to focus for the time being on Cochin-China: ultimately Tonkin would be economically dependent on the south in any case.92 A Provisional Government for the Republic of Cochin-China was inaugurated and its representatives were included in a second Dalat conference, along with those of Laos and Cambodia, but not Vietnam. Partly as a result the negotiations between France and the republic at Fontainebleau went badly: the two sides reached no agreement about the core issues, the extent to which Vietnam might be a 'free' or an 'independent' state, and the unity of the three ky, Cochin-China, Annam, and Tonkin. 'In Indo-China', wrote E. T. Lambert at the Foreign Office in London, 'France is pursuing a policy which can be described as liberal and progressive in theory but somewhat reactionary in practice.'93 The Overseas Minister, the Socialist Marius Moutet, believed that Ho Chi Minh could not, however, return home empty-handed, and a modus vivendi was signed on 14 September.94 Article 9, referring to a cease-fire, was, however, loosely worded. In Saigon it was interpreted as meaning Viet Minh disarmament in or withdrawal from Cochin-China; an interpretation the American ambassador, Jefferson Caffery, had been told by Boissezon of the French Foreign Office that was 'orally understood',95

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but which Ho at once declined to adopt, telling d'Argenlieu so at a meeting on the Suffren on 18 October.96 Indeed, the guerrilla war was stepped up in the south before the modus vivendi came into force on 31 October.97 While Moutet had favoured a modus vivendi, he also favoured building up the autonomy of Cochin-China. He saw that as a counterbalance to the republic, a political move, since France was too weak to attempt military solutions.98 He thus had two ways of evoking collaboration, but one might cancel out the other. Moreover, the vagueness of the cease-fire agreement left the way open to conflict in CochinChina. D'Argenlieu had already decided to make it the centrepiece of his policy. But the republic could not abandon the guerrilla struggle. In London, Anderson thought that in the absence of a definitive agreement, there was 'serious danger that. . . tempers will become frayed', and that there would be 'serious disturbances' in Cochin-China. On the other hand, the French local authorities and war office were 'using their breathing space to strengthen their military position in S. French Indo China on a scale which it would be difficult for them to adopt if they were bound by an agreement with the Viet Nam . . .' The 'transitional phase' was likely to last till after the French elections.99 The uncertainty in Paris indeed stood in the way of comprehensive policies: there were decisions, rather than a decision. In Paris coordination was in the hands of an interministerial committee (Cominindo), headed by the Prime Minister himself. Unwilling to give Moutet full responsibility, the Premier, Bidault, would, however, not assume it himself.100 Compromises over Indo-China might break up fragile governments in Paris. Initiatives tended to be left to Saigon, and what it did was hard to control. The impact of the French elections, foreseen by Anderson, was to be felt in a context he had not anticipated. In the eyes of the British Foreign Office at this point Ho Chi Minh was a moderate, or the nearest to one the French might hope to find. The political tendencies of the Fontainebleau delegation, Anderson had written, were 'left-wing but not necessarily Communist. In Indo-China itself nationalism pure and simple is the order of the day, rather than left-wing intellectualism'. Lieut-Col. Simpson-Jones, naval intelligence officer at Hanoi, thought 'that if Ho Chi Minh were to disappear his leftwing party and ideas would be swamped by the tide of nationalism which is increasing in strength and which already finds expression in various anarchical acts'.101 This view was supported by an interview with Narn, an assistant to Ho Chi Minh. 'Personal loyalty to President Ho Chi Minh is such that so long as he is in charge he will exercise a moderating influence, but from a French colonial point of view there seems to be every reason to beware of a dangerous and determined Annamite opposition . . . The driving force is simply an unreasoned urge to get rid

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of French rule and French presence . . . it will take years of tactful handling by the French, or alternatively of stern military repression to get over this . . ,'102 On hearing of Ho's return to Hanoi, Lambert remarked that he was 'one of the few men in Indo-China who combine a certain measure of authority over the nationalist movement with genuine respect and goodwill towards France'.103 Talks on implementing the cease-fire were, however, inconclusive: Ho Chi Minh insisted that the modus vivendi was based on the status quo, while d'Argenlieu condemned the activities of the Viet Minh's Committee of the South; and, while the High Commissioner insisted that Cochin-China was French, the President insisted it was part of Vietnam. The Nyo-Nam conversations in Hanoi stalled on the political problem.104 Meanwhile the French had re-introduced the federal customs regulations. A clash over their application at Haiphong on 20 November prompted Jean Valluy, acting for d'Argenlieu, to order the seizure of that city. The disagreement over Article 9 and the failure of the conversations, coupled with the suicide of Dr Thinh, head of the Cochin-China government, and the evident failure of the Cochin-China policy, prompted Saigon to what it saw as a counter-blow.105 Settlement with Thailand over the retrocession of its wartime acquisitions removed the risk of conflict there.106 But, while disposed to resort to force, d'Argenlieu had not envisaged doing so until early in 1947, and he had gone to Paris to secure authority for it.107 Major clashes now, however, ensued in Haiphong, and also at Langson.108 The successes of the Communist Party in the French elections on 10 November, and the prospect that this would lead to a more moderate view of the Viet Minh, had been a factor in the new policies adopted in Saigon.109 D' Argenlieu indeed put a complexion on the role of communism unlike the British Foreign Office's. Before he went to Paris he had spoken to Meiklereid. In his 'opening gambit', as the consul-general put it, the High Commissioner had for the first time referred to the communist danger in Southeast Asia. Ho Chi Minh's 'Marxist background was not to be forgotten and France had therefore to walk warily if she were not to find herself a party to the establishment of a Communist centre within her own empire which might be a future source of danger to the Allied Powers in South-East Asia'. He looked for at least 'moral support' from the British. France was 'particularly interested in the way we were tackling the same problems in Burma and Malaya'. Meiklereid suggested that '[the] time factor appeared to be working against France and unless some agreement could be attained with the Viet Nam in the near future the territory would become a very favourable soil for the Communist seed to take root'. D'Argenlieu agreed, and said he would urge that Paris adopt 'a definite policy', so far not done.

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Meiklereid told the Foreign Office that he thought that 'diehard' opinion was strengthening among the French. That saw concession as weakness and argued that 'all that is necessary is to replace the admiral by a "strong" man backed by a show of strength . . . If this policy is adopted, the French are going to have their hands full in Indo-China for many years to come. It might have succeeded a year ago, but certainly not now.' Meiklereid thought France would focus on Cochin-China, but he still hoped for an agreement with Ho Chi Minh. 'Despite his Communist background, I consider that Ho Chi Minh is a sincere patriot and he has until now been able to keep the extremists in check; this may not last indefinitely and should his Government be ousted the possibility of any form of lasting agreement will be increasingly precarious . . .' no The emphasis in d'Argenlieu's policy was, of course, different. Saigon was shifting towards a deal with the ex-emperor, Bao Dai, favoured by the commissioner for political affairs, Leon Pignon.111 The republic, including Ho Chi Minh, was to be labelled as 'Communist'. The moderation of Ho Chi Minh was to be ignored. Subsequent French action certainly made it difficult for him to sustain it. And it may well be that it provoked a nationalist response that he could not contain. D'Argenlieu took the same line - 'beating the anti Communist drum'112 - in conversations at the British embassy in Paris. He declared that 'the root of the trouble in Vietnam was communism'. There was no evidence of direct interference by Moscow, but there were infiltrators across the Chinese border. 'The whole pattern was characteristic of Soviet-inspired communist technique.' The reason for the present disorders, d'Argenlieu suggested, 'was that the Viet Namians had noticed the recent slight increase in communist representation in the French National Assembly as a result of the elections and had concluded that in view of this and the probability that there would still be a provisional government in France for a little time to come now was the moment to start something . . ,'113 This, it seems, was more likely a description of d'Argenlieu's own motives than Ho Chi Minh's. But it did mean that he had to work in Paris to ensure that the communists did not defeat his policy in Indo-China and urge a deal with Ho Chi Minh. The British had tended to see Ho Chi Minh as a moderating influence, and nationalism itself as even stronger than communism. The American vice-consul in Hanoi found the sudden concern of the French about communism 'very peculiar': they brought it to the State Department's attention just when they were planning an offensive programme in Tonkin.114 Moffat, chief of the State Department's Southeast Asian Division, feared, however, that French policies, increasingly 'reactionary and imperialistic', would drive the inhabitants 'more and more in the direction of Communism and that this tendency would be accelerated if

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Communism won the day in China'.115 In some part, this view coincided with that of the British: it pointed to the French failure to pursue a policy of conciliation, indeed any steady policy. But it implied a different conclusion, playing down the possibility that nationalism might be even more extreme than communism, and thus short-circuiting the possibility of a deal with Ho Chi Minh. In Washington H. A. Graves was invited to a discussion of the report Moffat had made on his visit to London. Moffat had formed the view, he gathered, that while the British estimate of Vietnam was that it was 'essentially nationalistic', his was that it was 'distinctly a Communistic administration'. After the discussion, Graves ended with 'a slight suspicion' that the 'investigation' of communism in Indo-China was part of Moffat's 'scheme for forcing the Department to take a greater interest in the whole of South East Asia'.116 This was an approach that had its own dangers. United States' involvement might increase, but be based on a misinterpretation of the nature of Vietnamese nationalism and the position of Ho Chi Minh. These remarks illustrate the way the onset of the Cold War might shape the future of Southeast Asia. There was no evidence that the Soviet Union was as yet directly influencing the politics of Southeast Asian countries, though there was a concern that it might be and there was also a concern about the possible impact of the successes of the Chinese communists. But it was a matter of perception as well as a matter of fact. D'Argenlieu was using the possibility of communist influence in the context of a developing Cold War as an argument for his policy. Moffat, Graves thought, was using the Cold War as an argument for interesting the US in Southeast Asia. These views were in subsequent years to transform the way of looking at the conflict in Vietnam, and in fact to transform the conflict itself. Saigon's was in some measure a selffulfilling prophecy. The British approach had been different. Apprehensive since 1917 of the impact of communism in the colonies and undeveloped countries, the British did not, however, allow their concern unduly to slant their views. They put the premium on stability, and they aimed to build that upon collaboration with moderates. That would, of course, marginalise the communists, but that was more a result than a prime objective, and it did not necessarily rule them out of a political process. In the case of Vietnam, at this juncture they saw Ho Chi Minh as a moderate. There was some evidence indeed that French action prompted more extreme nationalists to foreclose his initiatives. The colonial powers in general believed that there were moderate elements with whom they could collaborate. Their rule had always rested on collaboration, coupled with a minimum but sufficient demonstration of force. Often force was indeed better threatened than used; but if used

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it had to be decisive. Getting back to that position after the Second World War was, however, more easily contemplated than achieved. The British pressed the need for compromise, even on the basis of accepting nationalism, and, in the case of Burma, even independence. That partly because of politics at home - the French and the Dutch could not bring themselves clearly to offer. Their vagueness meant that they could offer only minimum concessions and had a narrow definition of moderation. They could thus win over few real moderates, and their use of force was counter-productive: it put even more of the moderates on the side of those they saw as extremists. While Saigon wrote off Ho Chi Minh, Paris yet hoped for a compromise with him, and Sainteny was sent back to see the man he had negotiated with in March.117 The aim was to separate him from extremists. Philippe Baudet, Chief of the Pacific Division at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, told Clarke that 'the French Government had decided to push on with the negotiations begun in Paris even if this course entailed the use of forcible measures to maintain the situation in the meanwhile. They believed that Ho Chi Minh genuinely desired to reach an understanding with France although he had been somewhat overwhelmed by the elements of the extreme left.'118 Separating Ho from his organisation was, however, an unrealistic idea: in any case Sainteny was given nothing to offer. He had but one interview with Ho Chi Minh. At that, held on 3 December, the latter sought a return to the status quo, and that Sainteny declined.119 The approach might be compared with the despatch of Ranee and his dealings with Aung San. The metropolitan government hoped that in some way the renewed personal contact might produce a compromise without a fundamental alteration of policy. There were, however, two differences. First, the policy of the British, right or wrong, was clearer. Second, they were in a position to adjust it when the new approach failed to work. The French government was in no such position. Indeed there was no government. At times in respect of Burma, British policy had not been unified. In the case of France and Indo-China, such a position was chronic. Without a decisive government at the centre and a clear policy, the crisis unfolded at the instance of extremists and as a result of misunderstanding and misfortune. Bidault's government resigned on 28 November, but he continued to direct foreign affairs until Leon Blum formed his Cabinet on 17 December.120 At the Cominindo meeting, he opposed concessions to Vietnam that might serve as a precedent for other entities in the French Union, like Morocco and Tunisia; he believed that mere force could not be the answer, since it would lose the government both national and international support; but he stressed that it must be made known that

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France would not leave Indo-China.121 Discussions ensued during the period in which the new government was being formed. Duff Cooper had some account of them. 'There is strong demand that the Government should make known its future intentions in Indo-china before the situation drifts into a general rebellion which it will require large French forces to suppress.'122 Moutet failed to get d'Argenlieu recalled, and the Overseas Ministry, in face of d'Argenlieu and the MRP, failed to get the instructions finally sent on 10 December to modify the Cochin-China policy. On the other hand, they did not abandon the modus vivendi, as d'Argenlieu hoped. As T0nnesson says, Paris took no firm position.123 The French Communist Party, Baudet told Clarke, was embarrassed by appeals from Vietnam: 'they did not wish to appear to be sabotaging national policy at a moment when they were building themselves as a great national party.'124 D'Argenlieu's fears, or hopes, were in this respect disappointed. The Cold War had an impact on realities in Europe, but only on perceptions in Indo-China. Moffat had meanwhile visited Vietnam. He now pointed not only to Moscow but still more to future Chinese imperialism. A French presence was indispensable. But it could only be secured by an agreement with the Vietnam government. He suggested US good offices, even mediation.125 Meiklereid had concluded that the French considered an agreement with the present Vietnam government impossible, and that they would adopt a political rearguard action in the north while strengthening their position in the south. 'By firmly re-establishing their position in Cochin China they hope to force the Annamites to overthrow their present Government and come to terms.'126 D'Argenlieu, he thought, would return with stronger powers, designed to consolidate the French hold on Cochin-China, while abandoning the north. 'It is as yet difficult to prophesy what success this new policy will achieve. Viet Nam are bound to increase their subversive activities in the South which it will require considerable employment of force to neutralise.'127 While, however, Paris had not abandoned the Cochin-China policy, its instructions did not prevent Saigon's adoption of a different policy. That was designed to strike at the Republic in the north. The implications of the events in Haiphong and Langson Meiklereid had not realised. He had seen that the Cochin-China policy would increase subversion from the north. But the new policy went beyond attempts to counter that. French military leaders met in Haiphong on 16-17 December and Pignon told Paris that the Viet Minh government must be destroyed or weakened.128 That government had, after the Haiphong incident, adopted a plan for a rising in Hanoi, followed by a withdrawal.129 It was not, however, anxious to carry it out and certainly sought to avoid

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incidents. Incidents increased, however, and the war began on 19 December.130 In Paris, Blum had published a conciliatory article on 10 December, and Ho Chi Minh addressed appeals to him on 15 and 18 December.131 The lack of reply may have made it difficult for him to resist extremists. Was Vo Nguyen Giap, commander of the Liberation Army, pre-empting a French attack? Or were nationalist elements seizing the initiative over Ho Chi Minh's communist leadership? Such elements were strong in the Tu Ve militia, and the hostilities began in an aleatory manner.132 Either way the initiative was a bonus for d'Argenlieu and Valluy. Meanwhile, however, Blum had decided to send Moutet out to preserve the peace,133 or as Clarke put it, 're-establish the atmosphere of confidence necessary for resumption of normal relations between French and native population'.134 How was that possible? On 16 December the Counsellor at the Chinese embassy in London had suggested Anglo-Chinese representations.135 Representations to France, Allen commented, would 'have anything but a happy effect'.136 In view of Moffat's anxieties, it was decided to inform Drumright at the US Embassy, 'and say that we do not think it would be a good plan, since the French might only retort that it was Chinese and perhaps other foreign influences which had caused all the trouble'.137 Dr Tuan Mao-Ian, the Counsellor, was told that no useful purpose would be served by intervening with the French government. Moutet was going to Indo-China: 'it would hardly be fair to the French government to prejudge the action and policy which they might decide to pursue to deal with this situation in Indo-China.' As the Chinese must be aware, the French were 'notoriously sensitive' to influences from outside, which was 'liable to produce prejudicial and unsatisfactory results'.138 The outbreak of fighting did not shift the British view. T do not think it wise to intervene at present', Bevin wrote.139 A proposal such as the Chinese put forward would 'cause resentment', Duff Cooper commented.140 French susceptibilities were treated more gently than those of the Dutch. The State Department took a similar line, despite Moffat's suggestion. With inadequate forces, public opinion at odds, and ineffective government, 'the French have tried to accomplish in Indochina what a strong and united Britain has found it unwise to attempt in Burma', Vincent wrote. There was a risk that the UN would be asked to intervene, or that other powers would attempt it. But the American reply to any Chinese approach should be the same as the British one: 'an offer of mediation at this time would probably be resented and rejected by the French'.141 The Dutch had not managed to avoid the involvement of others, nor to avoid the involvement of the UN.

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If the Ho Chi Minh-Sainteny accord had proved a misleading guide to the future of Franco-Vietnamese relations, the same was true of the Van Mook-Sjahrir deal which it helped to inspire. On the basis of that the British government offered new undertakings to the Dutch ministers in the Downing Street conversations, but, soon after, the Hoge Veluwe talks proved abortive. The Foreign Office was slow to recognise the gulf between the views of kingdom and republic. The new consul-general, Gilbert MacKereth - pompous, said W. F. L. van Bylandt, the special Dutch envoy, not sure if he was an ass, too142 - reported that, after Inverchapel's departure, reactionary elements were coming out into the open in Batavia, and gave the impression that the Dutch were 'playing for time with a view to being able to force the issue by military means rather than by negotiation'.143 So far as the Foreign Office was aware, however, the Dutch government did not intend to go back on its acceptance of the substance of the Van Mook-Sjahrir agreement: 'there would not appear to be any substantial reason for the Dutch and Indonesians to drift apart.'144 At Mountbatten's farewell meeting in Singapore, Van Mook suggested three scenarios. One was an understanding with Sjahrir; but many armed men would not obey him. Second, Sjahrir might resign: 'then it would be possible to get many leading Indonesians on the side of the Dutch, provided that they were certain of being provided with protection.' A third possibility was coordinated opposition to the Dutch; but that was not likely. 'Whatever happened a certain amount of military action would be necessary.'145 Van Mook was not aligning himself with the 'diehards'; but he was clearly contemplating a limited use of force, and his views in some measure echoed those of the French. Collaborators could be found, and military action would help them. The British had indeed begun to fear being drawn in,146 particularly in view of Bevin's rather unguarded remark at the end of the meeting on 12 April. At his meeting Mountbatten offered two proposals. One was in the near future to hand over to the Dutch all the Indies, except Java and Sumatra. Van Mook and Killearn agreed with that. The other, again following the Indo-China example, was that the Dutch should be free to carry out military operations in Java, without the approval of the Allied Forces NEI, outside the British-held perimeters, but that they could not expect British help in the event of a reverse.147 In London there were doubts about this attempt to delimit Britain's responsibility. The British, the Assistant Secretary (Military) to the Cabinet, Hastings Ismay, pointed out, would be securing the base of Dutch operations, and so could not dissociate themselves in the eyes of the world from what the Dutch did.

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Given free play, the Dutch might become more aggressive. 'This might react on the Indonesian negotiations.' Moreover, the Dutch might attempt more than they could achieve, and call for help: despite disclaimers 'we should find it difficult to resist such appeals'. A compromise would be to retain West Java.148 After discussion with Mountbatten, the Chiefs of Staff endorsed this notion. But the Foreign Office had doubts. The Indonesians might misinterpret it 'as giving unlimited license to the Dutch and as constituting a renunciation by His Majesty's Government of their interest in the achievement of a political settlement. This might well reduce our ability to exercise moral suasion on both parties and might seriously prejudice their negotiations . . .'149 The argument went, of course, to the core of British policy. The British wanted to put the Dutch in a strong enough position to negotiate a reasonable agreement, but not more than that. Their commitments were designed in the context of negotiation and compromise. The use of force the Dutch placed in a different context: a means of securing acceptable collaborators. Putting their commitments into the context the British preferred was difficult to achieve, therefore. But, if the West Java policy bore some resemblance to the Cochin-China one, the British were far more prepared to intervene in Indonesian negotiations than they were in Indo-Chinese. The Netherlands might be more easily influenced than the French. The possibility that the Indonesians might successfully seek others' intervention, or go to the UN, was greater, especially given the interest of the Australians.150 After the Hoge Veluwe talks, the Dutch Cabinet on 29 April considered a draft protocol.151 It envisaged that the federal free state of Indonesia was to be part, with the Netherlands, Surinam and Curacao, of the kingdom of the Netherlands. The Dutch government recognised the Republic de facto in most of Java and took note of its claim in Sumatra. Sumatra, like other parts of Indonesia, was to have an opportunity to indicate its wishes on its status in the free state. The Republic was to collaborate in building that state. It was to maintain law and order. It was to receive Allied and Dutch troops, with the task of relieving prisoners-of-war and internees and removing Japanese. Otherwise the parties were to maintain their positions.152 This protocol was presented to Sjahrir on 19 May,153 two days after the Dutch elections, with the Schermerhorn-Drees Cabinet now a caretaker government. The consul-general, MacKereth, transmitted Sjahrir's response. He indicated that the republican leader had asked him to continue in Inverchapel's role. He was happy to use his 'good offices'. The British government wanted 'a speedy resolution' but did not wish to be 'mediators'. He hoped that Van Mook would do what he could to hasten discussions.154 Sjahrir indicated that the protocol was unlike the March

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basis for agreement in form and content.155 It offered the Indonesians 40 per cent less than agreed upon in March.156 He now proposed an agreement between the Dutch and the Republic, recognised de facto in Java and Sumatra, and the word federal was not in it. The free Indonesian state was to be in alliance with the Netherlands.157 Informal discussions were held on 23 June, covering proposals for a cessation of hostilities, a military standfast, a halt to the introduction of Dutch troops.158 Sjahrir, under pressure, was himself suspicious of what seemed to be delaying tactics on the part of the Dutch. MacKereth thought that the British were giving the impression that they were forcing the Indonesians to accept Dutch colonialism. The British government, he recommended, should drop its 'passive' attitude, and induce the Dutch to face Indonesian nationalism rather than hope that it would fall into chaos so that they might overrun Java. They should be told that the Downing Street agreement was based on the assumption that the Van Mook-Sjahrir proposals offered a reasonable basis of settlement, but that in view of their 'dilatory' approach, the offer to retain British troops in Java must be reconsidered.159 'We are afraid you are going to miss the bus, you must swim with the tide', Killearn told Van Bylandt.160 He, too, thought that the Dutch might not be working wholeheartedly for an agreed settlement, and might be 'inclined more and more towards the imposition of a settlement by force', a 'whiff of grapeshot'. On the Indonesian side, too, there were 'those who, either from a belief in extremist measures or through loss of patience are disposed to put it to a trial of strength'. The Special Commissioner reiterated his view. Naturally as a matter of our normal world policy, we ardently want to see public order and stability in the Netherlands East Indies. I am personally all the more anxious for this because (maybe in this I am a visionary) of my constant hope to see established in South East Asia a region of peace and orderly progress. That does not in the slightest, affect my conviction that on grounds of general policy we should get out of the Netherlands East Indies at the earliest possible moment. Meanwhile by all means let us offer our good offices to both sides to promote a peaceful settlement by direct negotiations. The longer we stay the more liable are we to become involved in all sorts of puzzling problems.161 The fundamental principle, as Killearn later put it, was non-intervention in the internal affairs of other countries. 'As I see it, Netherlands East Indies is no exception to the rule that we get all the kicks and none of the halfpennies.'162 Killearn indicated that the Indonesians were considering a reference to the UN. In fact the Foreign Office had already learned that Sjahrir

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had asked Chifley, the Australian Prime Minister, to bring the case before the UN.163 Over that Canberra was doubtful, given the Security Council's difficulties in handling Persian and Spanish questions. R. C. Kirby, a judge who was in Indonesia to investigate the murder of three Australian officers, was told that there was 'no lack of sympathy in Australia for Indonesian aspirations for self-government', but it was felt that the Dutch and the Indonesians should reach an agreement.164 Sir Orme Sargent noted, however, that the Australians had 'displayed some desire from time to time to intervene': the Labor government had 'adopted a strong anti-Dutch attitude', and the government might 'find it difficult to resist the temptation to go after a diplomatic victory, particularly in view of the forthcoming elections . . .' Such intervention would not have happy results. The Indonesians might conclude that they need make no further attempt to accommodate the Dutch, and 'all hopes of a settlement by direct negotiation will vanish'. At the UN there would probably be 'a sharp division on a basis of national interest in which Russia will take a prominent role'. It was doubtful if the Security Council could reach a solution satisfactory to both sides, and the British, as well as the Australians, might face worsened relations with either the Dutch or the Indonesians. Sargent thought Britain should tell Australia of its misgivings. Bevin agreed. 'In any case, we should be out of it before it goes to the Security Council.' Attlee should consider talking to Chifley.165 Prime Minister wrote to Prime Minister along the lines of Sargent's memorandum.166 The Dutch, Chifley stressed, should be made to recognise 'that Nationalist aspirations in Indonesia are real and strong and that the Indonesians should be met more than halfway'.167 In fact Bevin was more critical of the Dutch than Sargent: his attitude was more like Killearn's. T have been concerned about the Dutch for some weeks past', he had told Attlee on receiving MacKereth's telegram. 'They are trading on our good nature and our agreement to keep troops in Indonesia until December.' The Dutch should be told that Britain must withdraw immediately unless they took the negotiations seriously. 'We cannot face the Security Council and support the conduct of the Dutch if they are not going to act at once and if they are not going to do this our own troops should be withdrawn and the London Agreement terminated.' Britain was 'bearing the cost and suffering the casualties'.168 Attlee replied in an I-told-you-so vein. 'I have for some time held and expressed the view that the Dutch are deliberately holding back, hoping that we will conquer the islands for them . . .'169 Bevin had earlier taken account of the officials, who had tended to be rather supportive of the Dutch. Wilson-Young, who had been with Clark Kerr, had, however, asked whether Britain should 'not now intervene energetically with both parties'. Their real intentions were not clear. But

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'failure to reach a political settlement before we leave is almost bound to lead to bloodshed on a large scale', whether or not the matter had been referred to the UN. The interest of other powers, including the Chinese - concerned lest their community became the butt of frustrated nationalists170 - was another argument for a bilateral settlement. WilsonYoung did, however, conclude that MacKereth's blunt warning would help Bland get The Hague to issue appropriate instructions to Van Mook.171 The telegram to Killearn took up his idea that he might bring Van Mook and Sjahrir together in Johore, 'with a view to seeing whether they would not find it possible once again to take advantage of the presence and counsel of an impartial third party'. Could they not scrap the proposals of May-June and return to Sjahrir's proposals of March? The Dutch would have to accept the inclusion of Sumatra in the Republic, subject perhaps to an escape clause if there were evidence of a majority element in Sumatra against it; and the Indonesians would have to accept that the Republic would be part of an Indonesian Free State, and that there would be a protocol rather than a treaty.172 Bland was told to support a meeting of the kind suggested.173 Carrying out these instructions promptly proved impossible. Sjahrir's offer was seen as treason and he was kidnapped in Surakarta, only to be released by intervention of Sukarno,174 and, though Bland put the ideas to J. H. van Roijen, the Foreign Minister, in two aide-memoires,175 the new Dutch government, headed by Beel, was not formed till 3 July.176 Sargent believed that Bevin's threat should be withheld 'until we have given both parties a little time in which to indicate fully their attitude towards our latest approach'. Britain should, however, consider the line to adopt if the negotiations failed. If the Dutch refused to compromise over Sumatra or accept a full truce, the British should tell them that the 12 April agreement no longer applied and that they would withdraw their forces by mid-August, when the evacuation of the Japanese and the liberation of prisoners-of-war and internees were completed. If the Indonesians refused to go back to the March proposals - thus ruling out their subsequent attempt to prevent the introduction of more troops the British could not meet 'such Indonesian intransigence' other than by 'moral suasion' and warnings of the effect repudiating their own earlier proposals would have on world opinion and on the Security Council if the case came before the UN. Bevin accepted Sargent's approach: 'but I will follow up closely Killearn's Efforts'.177 'This seems to be the right line', Attlee agreed.178 The Beel government's statement proved very general.179 Bevin wanted 'some results'.180 T think both parties need prodding badly', Dening wrote.181 'It is difficult to escape the impression that time is no object to the Dutch in this matter', Bland was told. 'If the Dutch have no

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serious intention of resuming negotiations it is for consideration whether the time will not shortly arrive for us to re-examine obligations into which we entered on April 12th.' He was to urge action on the new Dutch Foreign Minister, C. H. van Boetzelaer, though without actually saying that.182 The Beel government had, however, decided to send out a commission-general, with Schermerhorn as its central figure.183 That meant, Bland concluded, that the proposal for a Johore meeting was outof-date; and, like Killearn, he shared an aversion to responsibility for negotiations that would deadlock or lead to results distasteful to one side or the other. Tt may be necessary or desirable eventually for Lord Killearn to try to knock their heads together but the Dutch at any rate will not like the process. The Dutch particularly are likely to get less out of the settlement than 9/10 of them would like . . .'184 T must emphasise that we ought to keep clear and get out', Bevin commented.185 He seems to have felt he had been misled by the Dutch and was anxious to avoid further implication. Sjahrir complained to MacKereth that Van Mook made a pretence of discussion, while the Dutch army under Simon Spoor acted without control.186 'It begins to look', commented Philip Noel-Baker, the Minister of State, 'as though the Dutch were waiting until we all went away on our various conferences in the hope that when they are over it will already be the Autumn and they will reach the date at which their troops arrive without having come to any agreement.' That was 'a most dangerous policy'. Should they be summoned to London?187 T am very concerned about this Position', Bevin wrote. T am convinced our Present attitude of supporting the Dutch is going to land us in impossible Position. I cannot be put off any longer . . .'188 Allen did not think the description quite accurate. 'Our policy all along has simply been one of using our good offices to bring the Dutch and Indonesians together with a view to accelerating a settlement, and tiresome though the Dutch have been, the Indonesians have not been entirely blameless.' In fact, the Dutch had at last 'been made to realise the urgency of reaching a very early settlement'. Dening had been to The Hague to strengthen 'their present good resolutions'. The Dutch Cabinet had approved Schermerhorn's terms of reference, 'which will necessarily include full powers to negotiate, comparable with those of our Cabinet Mission to India'.189 'Broadly speaking they are apparently willing to go back to the basis of the March proposals', Dening reported after meeting Dutch ministers, 'and they are willing to include Sumatra with Java provided that this is with the free will of the people of Sumatra'. Boetzelaer hoped that, when the British received the Dutch reply to the earlier British aide-memoires, they would 'use their good offices and invite the Indonesians to resume negotiations on the basis of the Dutch

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proposals'. Dening believed the Dutch 'quite sincere in their intentions. It is only that, by our standards, they are so very slow'. Schermerhorn he thought 'fully aware of the problem which confronts him. He told me that he believed the Dutch should offer the Indonesians 100% of what they wanted. If that were done he thought the Indonesians would of their own free will hand back 80-90%.' He would not go out 'unless he was given a free hand to negotiate on that basis'.190 This approach was like Dening's, and he had indeed expounded it on his first evening in The Hague. Keeping down independence movements by force was impossible: quite apart from moral issues, it was a resource question. The alternative was 'to meet the wishes of Eastern populations for independence and to give them a helping hand'. If agreement could be reached, native populations would probably welcome guidance and cooperation. 'I drew a parallel with what we were doing in India . . .'191 While Killearn doubted the value of intervention, Dening believed it might contribute to the stability of Southeast Asia on a new basis. Bevin told Attlee, who had been enquiring, 'that the situation looks more healthy'. No further action should be taken for the moment, 'except for being frank with the Queen of Holland when she comes here'. 192 Dening told the Dutch ministers that there was no possibility that the British troops would stay beyond November, and that the British government would be 'in a very embarrassing position' if negotiations were not resumed at an early date. Hostilities would break out if no agreement had been reached when British forces left, Whitteridge believed. That would bring criticism at home and abroad, in Russia and in the US. We are in fact so closely associated in the task of creating conditions which will enable the Dutch and Indonesians to reach a political settlement that we cannot hope to escape some of the responsibility for, or the consequences of, failure. One set of critics will say that we have held the ring in order to give the Dutch time to gather their forces together for a colonial war; the Dutch will maintain that we have let them down by pulling out and they will also seek to show that we have not properly liquidated the Japanese occupation. There would be repercussions in Malaya, where the Malay Nationalist Party (MNP) was committed to a Greater Indonesia. Muslims in India would be concerned at the shedding of Muslim blood, and Hindus would make capital out of this example of European imperialism. The attitude of the dominions, especially Australia, might cause Britain 'embarrassment'. Supplying arms would cause an 'outcry', yet the British would have to supply spares and ammunition. Hostilities would damage British economic and commercial interests. Remaining in

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Indonesia was not an option for the British: it would mean loss of life and treasure, and bring as much criticism as leaving.193 Van Mook had meanwhile turned his attention to Borneo and the islands to the east. Delegates to a conference at Malino, near Makasar, generally supported the federal approach he advocated, though nationalist sentiment was not lacking.194 MacKereth asked him if it would open the door to renewed talks with the republicans. Not yet, he replied. He expected the republicans to break up into antagonistic elements, one by one entering the Dutch fold. He set no store by negotiations.195 'Unless the Neth. Govt. can convince us that they do not share Dr Van Mook's views we should be justified in reviewing our policy towards the N.E.I.', Whitteridge wrote.196 King George VI had spoken to Queen Wilhelmina as planned.197 'The Queen agreed that her people were unconscionably slow, but the trouble was that all her officials were old and war-weary, and she was having great difficulty in finding younger and more energetic men to replace them.'198 Dening became impatient. 'It is really too bad', he wrote on 1 August, 'that the Dutch have still not replied officially to our representations about the resumption of negotiations . . . Time is very short if they are to get going before the UNO meets.'199 Attlee told Boetzelaer in Paris that his government was 'being altogether too slow'. British troops had gone to Indonesia to carry out specific tasks, 'and there could be no question of their remaining for any other purpose after these liabilities had been fulfilled'. Attlee said that he 'felt strongly that agreement could have been reached months ago, and that the delay was due to a false appreciation of the situation'.200 The Dutch reply was given to Bland late the following evening.201 The new Dutch Cabinet had considered its reply on 19 July.202 It had then been sent to Van Mook and modified.203 It pointed to the Malino conference.204 That insisted on 'a federal construction of the Indonesian Commonwealth', which would affect the 'final solution' of Indonesian problems. The reply also questioned the authority of the Sjahrir government and its capacity to implement any agreement. The Dutch were, however, prepared to instruct their representatives to accept Killearn's invitation. Sumatra might be included in the territory administered by the 'republic', as against being part of the federation, if a preliminary survey indicated such a trend in opinion. An agreement would lead to the maintenance of present military positions and the cessation of hostilities. It would be in the form of protocols.205 The Dutch frame of mind was 'more rigid than one might have hoped for', Dening commented: but the British should urge Sjahrir to accept the proposals 'at any rate as a basis for the resumption of negotiations at the earliest possible moment'.206 Bevin agreed, but wished it 'made quite clear that

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nothing will alter our decision as regards the date of removal of our troops'.207 Killearn was told he might be authorised eventually to use his good offices to assist in the resumption of negotiations.208 An aide-memoire in reply to the Dutch pointed out that the understanding of 12 April over retaining British troops in Java was 'reached in anticipation of a peaceful solution of the Dutch-Indonesian dispute on the lines then under discussion'. The Dutch proposals of 19 May, however, excluded Sumatra from the discussions, and, whether or not as a result, the Indonesians introduced fresh conditions over troop movements. Hence the deadlock. The British government was now happy to accept the present Dutch proposals as evidence of a desire to reach a peaceful solution. But its information did not confirm the doubts the Dutch expressed about the authority of Sukarno and Sjahrir, and it was concerned that Van Mook doubted the value of negotiating. In the event of delay on the part of the Dutch in starting negotiations, or of a reversal of Dutch policy, the British government would no longer be bound by the agreement of 12 April, and would feel at liberty to withdraw their forces when they deemed that their military tasks had been completed.209 'This is, of course, a statement of considerable significance, which is unlikely to be pleasing to the Dutch', Allen wrote. 'It is, however, in line with the policy we have consistently followed in regard to this question and is the logical deduction from the explanations of that policy which we have all along given the Dutch.' 'I am sure all our pressure will be needed if we are to get the Dutch to set aside their dilatory methods and get into serious negotiations with the Indonesians', Sir Oliver Harvey, the Deputy Under-Secretary, wrote. Bevin agreed.210 MacKereth thought the Dutch were driving Sukarno and Sjahrir into the hands of the left wing. 'Probably . . . the plan of the more reactionary Dutch, including perhaps Dr Van Mook', Allen wrote, 'is to make a sufficient show of sincere negotiation to give us no cause to withdraw our troops early, before theirs have arrived in force, while at the same time bringing things to no definite conclusion with the Indonesians until the time when they are free to do what they like'.211 Whitteridge hoped the Indonesians would 'see the red light ahead'.212 Killearn was apprehensive that the Dutch were playing for time on the assumption that when British forces had gone they could 'steamroller' resistance. A point which has for some time been in my mind is the effect in Malaya and possibly also in the Philippines, not to mention India, if there is a breakdown and a resort by the Dutch to a policy of extermination. Even if there should be such a disastrous development I do not see with Malaya on our hands, and the inevitable racial and religious repercussions here, how we could disinterest ourselves politically in what was going on.213

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In Singapore M. F. Vigeveno, the Dutch consul-general, spoke to Killearn of 'police actions' against extremists. The Special Commissioner emphasised the importance of a peaceful settlement: otherwise there would be adverse world opinion, an appeal to the UN, reaction in Southeast Asia and India.214 'Even if steamroller tactics appeal to many of the Dutch they may hesitate to antagonise world opinion and run into probable difficulties with U.N.O. by employing them', Allen commented.215 The Dutch were, however, disposed to mix negotiation and force. Their belief was still that they could win over 'moderates', and that force would back them up. Killearn visited Batavia, and also Yogyakarta, late in August. He told Sjahrir, who had agreed to be prime minister again because he felt a settlement had to be reached,216 that British troops would leave on 30 November. He also persuaded the Indonesians not to insist on a halt to Dutch reinforcements as a condition for the truce: Sjahrir accepted, provided the truce covered Sumatra as well as Java.217 Owing to interparty arguments, the Dutch settled on membership of the Commission only in September, and its terms of reference did not give Schermerhorn so free a hand as he hoped, though contact with Sukarno, mentioned by the British, was not ruled out. The members arived in Batavia on 18 September.218 The formation of the third Sjahrir Cabinet on 2 October meant that both sides were ready to begin negotiations. The Foreign Office was anxious over a number of incidents: 'though we should wish to avoid hostilities altogether, we particularly wish to avert any serious outbreak of fighting for the period which remains to us until our forces are withdrawn. The situation in India and Burma adds to our complications, for there is a very real risk of a sympathetic reaction in these areas if major hostilities should develop between the Dutch and the Indonesians.' Nehru had declared that India was 100 per cent for Indonesian independence, and that it was opposed to the use of Indian men and money against nationalist movements.219 The Dutch did not, however, wish Killearn to play as large a role as Inverchapel had. He reported that they wanted the British shut out after the opening session, while the Indonesians wanted them present. T am not sure precisely what role you had in mind in assigning me this task', he telegraphed, 'but I hardly suppose it was that we should be used merely as a sort of conductor of the overture and then consigned to the outer darkness till the grand finale of the last act.' The Dutch wanted to leave the British to do the donkey work, 'and then leave it to them, alone and unaided to make a mess of things'.220 The Dutch ambassador in London was told that the presence of a third party might be helpful.221 The presence of a fourth party, the Australians, was not welcome, the British were clear. Chifley accepted that.222

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The first tripartite meeting was held on 7 October. Killearn declared it open. 'You have both assured me that it is your desire to reach agreement. It seems to me, if I may say so, that the elements of success are there. In my country we have a popular saying "where there's a will there's away". I am tempted to improve upon it by saying "where there's goodwill there's a quick way".'223 A truce committee was established under Killearn's chairmanship.224 It agreed on 13 October to a truce on the basis of cease-fire and standfast,225 Walter Foote, the US consulgeneral, implying that his talk with Sjahrir turned the balance.226 The truce was a step towards a political agreement. In these negotiations Killearn had a less direct role, but an important one. He joined the delegations when they decided to visit the 'interior', meeting Sukarno and Hatta at Linggadjati.227 There a preliminary agreement was reached, helped by a positive speech from Sukarno.228 The main issue by early November was the role of the Crown. A link with it was essential to the Dutch; a republic was essential to the Indonesians.229 How far should Killearn go in trying to bring about a compromise?230 'I do not think that Lord Killearn should step into the arena and become actively involved in the political dispute', Dening commented.231 Killearn was told that he might offer formulae or express a personal opinion that proposals seemed reasonable, but that he must not intervene actively. 'In particular we should avoid forcing an agreement to the extent that either party could subsequently place the blame upon H.M.G. as having coerced them against their better judgment' Killearn could use his influence, if needed, to keep the way open for further negotiations after the British had gone, so as to avoid an appeal to UN and to make the process of implementation more likely to succeed.232 The Foreign Office offered a formula.233 Squire thinks the suggestion 'clearly inspired' by Commonwealth practice.234 In fact there were as yet no republics in the Commonwealth: a crucial issue in Burma as in India. Under the Linggadjati agreement, the Dutch accepted the 'Republic of Indonesia' as the de facto authority in Java and Sumatra. The two were to collaborate in setting up a sovereign democratic federal state, the United States of Indonesia (USI), and in forming a union, consisting of the Netherlands, Surinam and Curacao, and the USI. The union was to 'have its own organs' and to cooperate in foreign affairs and defence. Decisions on matters of common interest were to be taken in the name of the kingdom. The union was to be established by 1 January 1949, and then the Netherlands government would introduce the USI as a member of UNO. An arbitration clause was included. Allen found the document 'remarkably interesting', but 'baffling'. The Dutch had conceded more than in March, but the Indonesians had accepted cooperation in

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foreign affairs and defence. He found the delay in establishing USI 'puzzling'. 'Although there is some similarity with the Viet Nam Agreement (inasmuch as there is to be an autonomous Republic within a federation which is part of a union with the metropolitan country and the other overseas territories) the proposed new State is virtually without parallel or precedent and it would be rash to say whether it will work or not.' Certainly Indonesia would not have dominion status: 'in our system there are no common organs of administration for dealing with Commonwealth interests as a whole. On the other hand she will be effectively mistress of her destiny and in that sense a genuinely sovereign state . . .' Mutual self-interest should be an incentive to implementation. But initial reactions in the Dutch press suggested 'many storms and snags ahead'.235 The Dutch Cabinet indeed hesitated. The problem, Beel summed up, was how to interpret and implement the agreement so that a reasonable measure of Dutch influence remained and yet retain Indonesian support.236 The problem was also to retain support for the coalition government he led. Following ministerial criticism, the Commission General set out some clarifications and interpretations, which J. A. Jonkman, the Minister for Overseas Territories, presented to the Second Chamber on 10 December with a formal statement of government policy. The 'elucidation' - 'a vague document', 'an attempt at mental gymnastics . . . to sell the Agreement to the States-General and Dutch public', as Yong puts it - denied that the agreement was a treaty: it was merely a political document; and the republic was not and would not be a sovereign state.237 In the Second Chamber, C. P. M. Romme, the Catholic leader, presented a resolution stressing that parliament would accept the Dutch interpretation. This passed on 20 December. Dutch backtracking, done without consulting the Indonesians,238 damaged the prospects of the agreement, difficult as it would have been for Sjahrir to carry out in any case, a 'swindle' in Tan Malaka's view.239 The delays had concerned Bevin. 'The attitude of the Netherlands Government fills me with misgivings. I feel that we are entitled to intervene with them and tell them so in view of the part we have played, in men and in negotiation.' Away in New York, the Foreign Secretary wanted Attlee to impress on the ambassador, Michiels, 'how deplorable it would be if this settlement were lost. With every hour that passes the settlement becomes more imperilled and the Netherlands Government ought to act quickly and in a spirit of magnanimity.'240 The Foreign Office set out what Attlee might say. With the withdrawal of British forces on 30 November, Britain 'ceased to have any direct responsibility'. But certain factors in Anglo-Dutch relations the Dutch government would no doubt have in mind. There were three options: to accept the

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agreement; to modify it; to reject it. The first would 'obviate any difficulties . . . in the international field'. The second would prompt the Indonesians 'also to try to whittle down the agreement'. The third would mean adverse reaction in the UK; 'widespread hostilities'; an appeal to the Security Council, over which Britain might not be able to offer support. It would also be difficult for Britain to carry out its undertakings over training and equipping Dutch forces.241 Bland suggested that the approach might be toned down: public opinion carried weight in the Netherlands, too; and there was a constitutional problem as well.242 The idea of pressing Michiels was abandoned when news came that the Dutch government intended to authorise signatures.243 The question of training and equipment had been discussed at the War Office and at the Foreign Office. 'We shall have to remember', Hoyer Millar wrote, 'that not only are we counting on the Dutch to provide some troops to help garrison the British zone in Germany but that if the idea of a Western Regional Association ever materialises, Holland and the Dutch armed forces may play an important part in the defensive arrangements for the protection of this country. . ,'244 If serious fighting recurred in Indonesia, Allen believed, 'we should obviously expose ourselves to a lot of unpleasant public criticism if we went on supplying arms to the Dutch while they were trying to crush Indonesian resistance'. To say that Britain would not be supplying arms to the Dutch forces in the Indies would be 'a little disingenuous', as it would have to supply them in Europe, 'and it would obviously be impossible to prevent the Netherlands Government from transferring forces equipped in Europe to the N.E.I.'.245 'In other words, the need for us to ensure Dutch goodwill and cooperation in Europe would seem to be an over-riding factor, even if some criticism in this country is liable to be aroused.'246 These memoranda were kept on ice, as Dening instructed. If the agreement were signed, 'we may hope that the question will not be raised in acute form. If no agreement is signed, and the situation deteriorates, it will probably be necessary to put the matter to Ministers.'247 The situation was to develop rather differently: the agreement was signed, but not implemented. The Dutch resorted to the 'police action' some already contemplated. The British carried out the threat already implied in the draft to Bland. But their Western concerns prevented their going all the way. Ties with the Dutch had limited them in the previous century. The old issues re-appeared in a new form. Giving a retrospective account of the role of British forces in Indonesia, MacKereth was to suggest that the Dutch were Machiavellian. Dening questioned that interpretation: T should have said that they had no policy at all once it had become apparent that they could not return

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to the N.E.I, in the circumstances they had expected.'248 The truth, perhaps, lay in between. What was clear was that the Dutch, like the French could, as a result of metropolitan politics, produce no bold or even coherent policy. The accusation Van Mook levelled at the republic could be levied at the Netherlands. The Anglo-Malay negotiations

Success for British policy in Malaya was necessary because of the economic importance of that country. It was also important because, like British policy in Burma, it would demonstrate the possibility that East and West, Britain, Europe and the US, could meet on a new basis and so endow the region with long-term stability and prosperity. In the case of Malaya, these aspirations had been coupled with a legacy from the frustrations of the 1930s and the Colonial Office's anxiety to build a state in which the 'immigrant' communities would play a full role alongside the Malays. The level of Malay opposition was unexpected. Promptly meeting it seemed the best hope of stability after all. The connections between Malay radicalism and Indonesian nationalism were known, and their impact perhaps exaggerated. They were a factor in the British endeavours to promote a settlement in Indonesia between the Dutch and the nationalists. They were also a factor in Britain's positive response to UMNO and the rulers. The boycott of the inauguration did not at first lead the Colonial Office to change its view. Creech Jones argued that some organised Malay opinion 'was to be expected' and 'need not be bad if it is handled now with understanding and discretion'.249 Gent met the rulers on 2 May, when they insisted on federation rather than union. The Governor favoured a positive response. It would bring with Malay consent 'that unity which was the ultimate objective of democratic policy'. Malay opposition, extending to rural and urban districts, had to be placated: the alternative was 'very serious likelihood of organised and widespread non-cooperation and disorder on the part of the Malay people', which would help the MCP and Indonesian political organisations.250 Malay Nationalist Party propaganda incited Malays to denounce Dato Onn and the sultans, to join the pan-Indonesian campaign, to oust the British. Questioned by the CO, Gent insisted that Britain must leave the 'Union road'. The MCP might take an opportunity to 'disturb the peace', while the attitude of Indonesian groups would depend on British sympathy for Indonesia in the Netherlands Indies, and on the extent to which 'Malay opinion is sufficiently met in our own political problem in Malaya'.251 Soon after his arrival, MacDonald upheld Gent's view. Failure to reach an agreement would undermine the 'full trust in British leadership in

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this region which is the main base of the British position in the Far East'. Britain would always be, as in India, a bit behind local opinion. Any weakening of Britain's position would be exploited by Indian nationalism, Chinese imperialism, 'and especially Pan-Malayan Movement led by Indonesians'.252 Rees-Williams and Gammans, en route back from their visit to Sarawak, reached the same conclusion. Like the Burma Office, the Colonial Office looked for a solution within the existing framework: it gave ground, but not enough. MacDonald continued the argument. Malay political consciousness was roused: 'not a bad thing', but it must not be 'rail-[roaded] into extremist and anti-British channels'.253 A positive reply to the rulers would strengthen 'the position of Dato Onn moderates against that of Indonesian inspired extremists'.254 The focus was on the abrogation of the MacMichael agreements. If Hall gave an assurance to that effect, however, the British government would have no means of securing a satisfactory constitution. Late in July the rulers finally agreed to start negotiations on the understanding that the agreements would be replaced if a satisfactory arrangement were reached. Gent had been a proponent of change pre-war. Perhaps that made it more surprising that he came so quickly to advocate the abandonment of the union policy, and the Colonial Office took some weeks to swallow it. In some sense, it represented a reversion to the pre-war approach. It was also a recognition that Britain's power to effect change was, after all, limited: more limited indeed than it was pre-war, when it had avoided the bold policy that Gent, among others, had looked forward to. In some sense, too, it represented acceptance of the facts, and, as in the case of Burma, what the government was concerned to do was to modify its approach without altogether abandoning the framework of its announced policy. But it did, after all, secure an all-Malaya solution which Gent described as the major objective. Its realism was still, however, incomplete. The Malays had changed: it was assumed that the other communities had not. MacDonald insisted that the non-Malay communities would not react to the shift unfavourably: the Chinese wanted a restoration of peaceful conditions so that they could carry on business.255 The British thus again reverted to a pre-war view: the migrants, if not mere sojourners, were economic men. An Anglo-Malay Working Committee was set up on 25 July, with representatives from the government, UMNO, and the rulers. On 6 August A. T. Newboult told the opening meeting that it was necessary to keep in mind the interests of all communities in Malaya, and subsequently a public discussion would be needed. Meanwhile negotiations were secret. What the Colonial Office called 'very good progress' was made on the principle of a strong central government.256 A compromise was reached

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over jurisdiction: a new order-in-council would be issued and new agreements made with the rulers. The main difficulty was over citizenship, for which the Malays sought narrower criteria than those the Colonial Office wanted. 'There was talk about trouble from the Straits Chinese and other communities,' Dato Onn declared, 'but it seemed to be forgotten that the vast majority of the people - the Malays - could also make trouble if what they regarded as their legitimate rights were not met'.257 Roland Braddell, legal adviser for UMNO, told Newboult: 'Our friends are the Peninsular Malays. With them behind us we can handle the Merdeka movement.' Accept the proposals, 'and we have a solid backing which will include the Straits Chinese and the Indian Malayborn and Eurasians'. Reject them and there would be 'bloodshed and an anti-British spirit which will never be quelled or quellable'. By contrast the Chinese were apathetic, unfit for citizenship.258 Gent himself urged a quick settlement: otherwise the leadership of the Malays would 'pass into the hands of the Indonesian forces of the MNP, supported for so long as it suits them by the Malayan Communist Party' ,259 A report was agreed upon on 20 November and taken to London. Gent urged approval: 'a lot is at stake with China, India and Indonesia as very strong forces pulling us apart here.'260 The Cabinet approved the proposals on 5 December, assured that they did not depart from the fundamental objectives of the British government, 'to set Malaya firmly on the road toward unity and constitutional progress'.261 The proposals were published and a consultative committee set up to invite the opinion of 'all interested individuals, communities and groups'.262 The anti-cession movement in Sarawak

Rees-Williams and Gammans probably went further than the Colonial Office expected over Sarawak. Their recommendation, however, favoured the CO solution. The CO itself offered a statement on future policy that was 'deliberately vague and non-committal':263 its administration was to be along the lines of other colonies and in accordance with the principles of 1941. Cession was carried only by the vote of the European officials. A last-minute instruction from the Colonial Office not to conclude the cession came too late, and Gammans advised the Conservatives not to oppose.264 What really decided him and his colleague, they told Margaret Noble (an anti-cessionist), was 'the shocking quality of the European members of the Council Negri'. Finding out native opinion was 'a bit difficult'.265 Anti-cession feeling remained strong in Sarawak. No Iban representatives were present at the annexation ceremony. MacDonald had told Sir Arthur Bryant - married to a Brooke - that he could not visit Sarawak or

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intervene: he had no locus standi. If he became Governor-General, 'I think it important that I should not have been involved in any way in precession negotiations or controversy'.266 Now he made a tour of Kuching, 'acknowledging non-existent salutes and waving cheerily to closed shutters'. 267 At home the anti-cessionists faced no better than in Sarawak: 'It is all on a par with Sir Harold MacMichael's treatment', Margaret Noble told William Keeling, 'but is an even more shocking example of the methods of the present Colonial Office since communications in Sarawak are much slower than in Malaya and the people are much more primitive . . .' It might, or might not, be a good thing for Sarawak to be part of the empire. But surely it cannot be wise, at a time when there is such a great clamour for independence in India, Burmah, Java and other Eastern countries, to annexe a perfectly happy independent country with which we have no quarrel. We have had to pay so much and so bitterly for our victory in this war that our national honour is practically all the capital we have left and the rest of the world watches with most critical and sceptical eyes all our Colonial activities. It will not help them to believe in our altruistic aims with regard to India, Ceylon and Burmah if they see us using a crooked pin to get another winkle out of its shell while we let go, one by one, the larger and more formidable lobsters when their claws begin to hurt us.268 Such arguments made little impact, and the anti-cessionists did not try to internationalise the issue. Bertram asked in vain that the order-incouncil be deferred until an appropriate enquiry had been instituted on the cession, which, if not fully and freely offered by the native communities, infringed the Atlantic Charter.269 But, in an unproductive correspondence with the Secretary of State, he did not go beyond invoking international principles and pointing to the damage done to Britain's reputation. The dynastic claims of the Brookes no doubt obscured the arguments for Sarawak's independence, though they stimulated the controversy. Perhaps, too, the French and the Dutch missed a chance to criticise what they might have seen as Britain's 'holier-than-thou' approach. In Sarawak the Colonial Office had, with a slight falter, pushed ahead. In Malaya, somewhat reluctantly, it had drawn back in face of Malay opposition. News that the Malayan Union constitution was to be altered gave the Sarawak anti-cession faction new heart. 270 But the new Governor, Sir Charles Arden-Clarke, was apparently chosen to make a clean break with the Brooke past.271 The protest placards that greeted him in November he had torn down by the police.272 The people, Creech Jones told the House of Commons, 'should not be confused at this

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moment with another constitutional problem'. 'This last sentence', Churchill declared, 'phrase by phrase, and line by line, is the very perfect declaration of tyranny.'273 Circular No. 9 threatened public servants associating with any activity designed to keep open the question of cession with instant dismissal.274 There was no such controversy over the cession of the company's territory. This was effected by a deal with the British North Borneo Company, which transferred and ceded its sovereign rights, 'to the intent that the Crown shall, as from the day of transfer, have full sovereign rights over, and title to, the territory of the State of North Borneo, and that the said territory shall thereupon become part of His Majesty's dominions'.275 The inhabitants were not consulted, nor was a parliamentary mission sent. There was no equivalent of the local or the London opposition found in respect of Malaya and Sarawak. Annexing North Borneo did, however, change its status, and this was realised in the Philippines. Interest in North Borneo (Sabah) had never died, and, as the ex-Governor, General F. B. Harrison, pointed out, the transfer took place only twelve days after independence was inaugurated. The matter should be taken to the UN.276 But at this juncture the Philippines stopped short of renewing the Sulu claim, apprehensive though the British were. Negotiating a treaty with the Philippines

Representing the United Kingdom at the inauguration of Roxas as President of the new Philippines Republic on 4 July, Killearn sensed 'an air of unreality' about the proceedings. On the side of the Filipinos, the rehabilitation of their war-shattered country (and the utter ruin of Manila has to be seen to be believed) must depend almost entirely on American assistance, and on the side of the Americans they make no secret of their intention to hold on to whatever bases they require . . .

The American retention of bases was, Killearn believed, in the interests of the British: 'the republic is a buttress to the South-East Asian Bastion.' There were opportunities for the British, too, including the revival of trade with a hard currency area. The praise lavished on the Americans during the ceremonies was fulsome. 'The anxiety of the Filipino leaders to identify themselves with the United States, rather than as an Asiatic Power, is no doubt due to economic self-interest, racial pride, and perhaps fear of China.' More privately, Roxas expressed a wish for 'closer ties with us', and Vice-President Quirino declared: 'We want to diversify our trade, we do not want to rely solely on America for everything.'277

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Like British officials pre-war, Killearn saw a continued American role in the defence of the Philippines as a guarantee of the security of Southeast Asia. Again, like his predecessors, he was critical of their political approach. The British distrusted timetables for independence, and the American determination to stick to the deadline of the 1935 act was a demonstration of it. Not surprisingly, Killearn pointed to the onesided nature of the bargain the Philippines secured under the Bell Act. The British thought that they prepared independence better and made more genuine East-West understandings. In the specific case of the Philippines, the restlessness of the Filipinos might open opportunities for the British. But working with their leaders was also part of their general policy of coming to terms with the independent regimes in Southeast Asia, also already exemplified pre-war: whatever the constraints of the Bell regime, the British should take the independence of the Philippines at its face value, and build a relationship predicated on the new republic's joining the ranks of the nation states. It turned out to be less easy than they hoped. Britain's policy in the Philippines, as elsewhere, was too optimistic. It decided to seek a treaty of friendship, but failed to secure one. The Sabah issue was an obstacle, but there were others, too. One was indeed the special relationship between the Philippines republic and the United States. That made it difficult to achieve a satisfactory economic and political understanding. But the ambiguity in the United States-Philippines relationship had another effect. Just because of the constraints upon its independence so far as the United States was concerned, the Philippines tended to a nationalistic assertiveness particularly in regard to others. Negotiating with the Filipinos was thus an especially sensitive task. It was all the more so because of the territorial issue. Acting as consul-general in Manila, F. S. Tomlinson had reported in June that his Chinese counterpart had drafted a treaty of friendship, and President Roxas had recommended others to follow suit.278 The Foreign Office prepared a draft. Article 1 provided for the king's recognition of Philippine independence and for perpetual peace and friendship between the republic and the UK, and Article 2 for the exchange of diplomatic representatives. Other articles envisaged negotiations for a commercial and consular treaty, and the maintenance meanwhile of the regime currently applying to nationals, companies and vessels.279 'The draft has been made as short as possible', D. J. Cheke wrote. Tt seems to me to be of some importance that we should present the text of a basic agreement to the Philippine Government with a minimum of delay and that the text, to secure ready acceptance, should be on very general lines.'280

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The Colonial Office was concerned, however, about North Borneo. Apparently prompted by a Filipino interested in the Sulu claim since the 1920s, Teopista Guingona, and by his agent,281 attorneys in Chicago had declared that the North Borneo Company, having defaulted on the payments to the heirs of the Sultan determined in the Macaskie judgment of 1939,282 the lease had been terminated on 15 June: the subsequent announcement of a new British colony was 'an unauthorized act of aggression'.283 AAP had reported in July, soon after the inauguration, that the republic might claim sovereignty over British North Borneo. The alleged heirs claimed that the company had failed to pay the sums due and that the lease was therefore abrogated, while Macaskie's judgment declared the Philippines government successor in sovereignty.284 At the Colonial Office Sir T. Lloyd believed this 'a quite untenable claim and not one to be taken seriously, but it might be thought desirable to guard in some way or other, at the time of the signature of any treaty, against the Philippines Government subsequently making this kind of claim'.285 When the draft treaty was prepared, the Colonial Office wanted the territories of the Philippine Republic 'very clearly defined' in it, 'in order, in particular, to prevent the Filipinos from raising any claim to sovereignty over British North Borneo'. Cheke pointed out that President Truman's proclamation of Philippine independence had defined the area being granted independence by referring to three international instruments, one of them the convention of 1930 that had delimited the Philippines-North Borneo frontier. 'It seems that the point raised by the Colonial Office might be satisfactorily covered by some form of words referring to President Truman's proclamation . . ,'286 The Board of Trade objected to the commercial clauses: they should be 'reinforced by some kind of overriding m.f.n. clause'.287 If the Philippine authorities would not be ready to grant m.f.n. (although we recognise that they would want to qualify the general m.f.n. clause in such a way as to cover cases where they traditionally gave exclusive rights to American nationals, e.g. in participation in public utilities and in development of mining, etc., resources) we should not be prepared to negotiate a full-scale commercial treaty with them as envisaged . . .288 Cheke was doubtful. But the Economic Relations Department at the Foreign Office supported the inclusion of the clause. T think', wrote N. Sissons, 'it would seriously prejudice other negotiations if we were to let the Filipinos get away without a most favoured nation clause. If... they are offered an escape clause to cover special concessions etc. to Americans, it should not cause undue delay.' The clause was duly inserted in the draft.289

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The Far Eastern Official Committee decided to include a provision 'to guard against any claim by the Philippine Republic to sovereignty over British territories in North Borneo', and the Foreign and Colonial Offices were invited to draft a formula, and another to cover existing treaties.290 The redraft that followed made Article 3 provide generally for the continuance of existing treaties; Article 4 envisaged the negotiation of a commercial treaty, and Article 5 provided for the continuance meanwhile of the regime applying on 7 December 1941 and for mostfavoured-nation treatment; Article 6 covered consular arrangements; Article 7 indicated the territories covered: those of the Philippines were described by referring to President Truman's proclamation, to which allusion was also made in the preamble.291 The Colonial Office thought 'the North Borneo-Philippine boundary question . . . most adequately covered' by Articles 3 and 7.292 In December Foulds had reported that, according to Quirino, the Philippines government expected to conclude a general treaty with China before Christmas. 'If this is true', Cheke remarked, 'the Chinese will be in before us, but I cannot see that that in itself greatly matters. It is important that our own basic treaty should be concluded as soon as possible . . .'293 'The country is certainly less independent than the British Dominions now are or than India will shortly become', Foulds wrote. The privileged position of the Americans and the reality of their power 'need cause us no perturbation', but it meant that foreign affairs was not an overriding priority for the Philippines government. Diplomatic representation and the negotiation of treaties flattered their vanity; but they could fall back on the US for defence.294 Thai rice The British government aimed, as Thompson told Yost, at 'a stable and prosperous Siam with whom we could develop stable politico-economic relations', but not at 'any kind of monopoly or stranglehold over Siamese trade to the exclusion of United States or any other country', nor at imposing 'upon Siamese sovereignty and independence which had always been of vital concern to Britain';295 as Lord Killearn put it, 'an orderly, prosperous Siam inspired by sentiments of fullest friendship and of a sincerely cooperative spirit with us both in political and economic field', and thus 'an asset of the greatest value' in the 'concept of a bastion of good order and stability in South East Asia'.296 But its policy on the Siam treaty, and on rice in particular, seemed at times at odds with these objectives.

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The British had now proposed to abandon the rice article of the treaty and to pay up to £15 per ton for rice, while the Thais were to be obliged to supply 1.2 million tons in twelve months. Following intensive consultations in Bangkok, the price to be paid to the Siamese government was settled at £13.10s. (including gunnies), in effect £12.14s. per ton. With the tical at a revised rate of 40 to the pound, this was considered a very high tical price to impose upon the consumer in present economic conditions ruling in Siam. However so far as prices go it should be fully adequate to induce maximum cultivation. On the other hand due to the increase in value of exchange our price involves a reduction from about 360 to about 240 ticals per ton paddy. That being so it is feared that no rice might be readily forthcoming for a considerable time if a drop in tical price to basic price of £13.10s. at 6 pence per tical were suddenly imposed . . .

It was therefore suggested that, in order to allow holders of higher price stocks to liquidate them without a drastic loss, a premium of, say, £3 per ton should be paid for all rice delivered within four weeks and £1.10s. for the next two weeks, and that after that date the basic price would be rigidly enforced.297 This proposal the Foreign Office criticised. Fifteen pounds was an 'extremely generous' price at the present tical rate and ample to ensure the flow of rice, Allen minuted. 'But the Siamese Government have been trying to seize the opportunity of our purchasing this rice to revalue their currency at a higher rate, at our expense.' Fifteen pounds might then no longer be sufficient to buy rice. 'The grave danger is that, if we fall in with this Siamese scheme, we may soon have to pay much more for our rice . . ., which would have a most disturbing effect on the economies of the neighbouring rice-producing countries such as Burma . . .'298 Persuaded by a member of the Rice Unit, however, an interdepartmental meeting convened by Nathan agreed that Britain should accept the Bangkok proposals on the understanding that the Siamese government would not increase the exchange above sixpence per tical during the currency of the agreement. Nathan 'made it clear that all concerned in London had allowed Hon. Somerset Butler in the light of his local knowledge, to persuade them to adopt a policy with which they would not otherwise have agreed. He now felt it was up to those in Siam, having been given their own way, to "produce the goods" . . ,'299 On 30 April Thompson approached the Foreign Minister and that evening planned to see the Prime Minister, Pridi, at a banquet for Killearn. The required assurance on the exchange rate, it was clear, would have to be 'carefully worded' in order 'to avoid Assembly criticism as infringement of Siamese sovereignty'. The suggested formula was:

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'The sterling price to be paid for rice under this agreement is fixed on the understanding that the rated exchange during the currency [of the] agreement will not be below 40 to the £1.' 300 Next day the Foreign Minister told Thompson that his government accepted the offer conveyed in the British telegram. It was proposed formally to record the Foreign Minister's 'categorical oral assurance' that the value of the tical would not be increased above sixpence during the period of the agreement. The Prime Minister indicated his intention 'to do everything possible to explain new rice policy to the country exploiting to the maximum psychological aspects'. He would also broadcast to the people.301 The Foreign Office was pleased with the 'good progress made'. The assurance over the tical offered by the Foreign Minister was 'exactly what we want and we should prefer this assurance - even if it remained oral to any formal undertaking requiring ratification by Siamese Assembly', where there were 'political dangers'.302 Thompson preferred himself to stick with the oral assurance, reinforced as it was by the statement that Pridi made in the Assembly on 2 May.303 Pridi made a personal gift of 100 tons of high quality rice as a pledge of Siam's purpose.304 In the Assembly and in his broadcast, the Prime Minister emphasised the need to fulfil the agreement, and vigorously attacked hoarders and speculators. 'Conclusion of agreement has had a good press', Thompson reported, but it was only to be expected that there should be a general feeling which finds private expression that Siam has scored a great victory particularly over the British. Having regard to the history of this question jubilation of this kind was inevitable and we generally declined to take it too seriously. But we should not forget the lesson involved which is that it is useless to make demands without strength if need be to enforce them. The Foreign Office did not care for the final comment. 'I prefer Mr Thompson where he is less sententious', Allen observed.305 The communique, together with the broadcast, might now, an official hoped, at last start a steady flow of rice.306 Sargent expressed the same hope in an explanation for Attlee.307 The Colonial Secretary was all too aware that the cereals ration in the Malayan Union and Singapore was 'lower than in any other South East Asian country', which had a 'most serious' effect on health and on the political situation.308 British hopes were not, however, fulfilled. Payment, Nathan noted on 20 September, had not produced increased exports. Difficulties still stood in the way: lack of consumer goods, low prices, the corruption and inefficiency of the Siamese Rice Bureau.309 Pridi, Doll told Nathan's committee, had aimed to bring prices down by fixing a low rice price: the enmity of speculators led to his resignation.310 By the end of the year a new

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arrangement had been developed, the British paying the price of American participation in order to exert pressure on the Thais.311 The political crisis following the death of the king adding to the general instability and undermining Pridi had been another factor.312 So, less clearly, was the retrocession of Cambodian territory to the French.313 The memorandum of understanding, finally accepted on 24 December 1946, revised the target figure of 1.2 million tons, to be reached by 1 May 1947, to 600,000 tons, to be reached by 31 August: the shortfall penalty would apply only from 1 September and in respect of the new target. A price of £20 per ton was proposed, 'so as to bring such price more nearly into line with domestic price levels in Siam'.314 The shortfall, Thompson believed, was primarily due 'to the fact Siamese Government (who have never had rice stocks in their physical possession) have had to buy from dealers (mainly Chinese) who have preferred large profits from illegal export to selling it at what they regarded as sacrificial prices to the Government. . .'315 Smuggling to Malaya flourished, and large profits were made.316

CHAPTER 4

Concession and Conflict, 1947

The crises of 1947 The British government's task was to balance the demands for reconstruction at home and those for reconstruction abroad. No clear choice was made between them; none could be made. Subsequent criticism that Britain's priorities were mistaken misses the mark. The British government retained the longstanding view of British governments that the essential basis of Britain's survival and welfare was a thriving economy. But that would not be possible unless it were part of a stable world. Britain must make its contribution to that, too. The crucial issue was indeed a compromise between these commitments, not a choice between them. The criticism, if due, should be applied, too, in the context of the time. At the end of the Second World War, the Cold War pattern had not emerged. The focus of the Soviet Union was on Europe, but what policy it would pursue could not be ascertained, and US policy was also unclear. The fate of Europe and the fate of the 'Third world', as it was later to be called, had still to be decided. Given the limited role of the super-powers, Britain had to take on worldwide reponsibilities. In Europe it contemplated a relationship with France and the other Western states. Overseas, in particular in Southeast Asia, what it sought was a new relationship between Europe and emergent nationalism. Without that it feared an East-West polarisation from which communism would benefit. It was an ambitious programme, but no one else was there to undertake it. It was also a somewhat contradictory programme. In March 1947 the British finally made the treaty with France, contemplated in 1945, long advocated by their ambassador, Duff Cooper. It portended, he argued, 185

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cooperation over Germany and in the colonial sphere, and he asserted that the two powers could together equal either of the super-powers. The Foreign Office had moved more slowly and was less sanguine. But negotiating the Treaty of Dunkirk took place simultaneously with the Franco-Vietnamese clashes in Haiphong and Hanoi: Cooper had revived the idea in a talk with Blum on 26 December 1946.1 The policies of the super-powers themselves were clarified during the year. 1947 was to see decisive shifts in Europe. Politically, Britain's withdrawal of assistance to Greece and Turkey prompted the enunciation of the Truman doctrine in March: 'it must be the policy of the United States to support free peoples who are resisting attempted subjugation by armed minorities or by outside pressures.'2 'Totalitarian regimes . . . undermine the foundations of international peace and hence the security of the United States.'3 The economic crisis in Britain and elsewhere prompted the announcement of Marshall Aid in June. The initiative, the Secretary of State said, had to come from the European side. 'There must be some agreement among the countries of Europe as to the requirements of the situation.'4 Bevin wanted to be a partner. 'The British did not want to go into the programme and not do anything.'5 The Americans would not accept Britain as a channel of aid, but Oliver Franks chaired the conference on European economic cooperation that ensued. Bevin had 'summoned the New World into action to redress the bank balance of the Old'.6 But the UK had to suspend the convertibility of the pound, promised at the time of the 1945 loan, and late in September decided to cut its armed forces to 713,000 by March 1949.7 Molotov had stormed out of the Paris conference.8 The Soviet Union, Pierson Dixon, Bevin's right-hand man at the conference, believed, did not want 'any honest plan for European recovery'. The Kremlin leaders feared 'for their own position and the regime if Europe under American water-cans handled by British gardeners blossoms into a happy western garden of Eden'.9 The 'two camps' doctrine of Zhdanov countered the Truman doctrine in September, and the Comintern was founded in October. The East-West foreign ministers' conference on Germany in November ended in deadlock. 'Constant accusations . . . Molotov might at least have thanked us for courtesy in staying to listen to them for the nth time', Bevin complained.10 Updating Sargent's stocktaking of July 1945, the Foreign Office had been as glum as the weather was grim. The Soviet Union had become 'unambiguously isolationist'. Britain's economic ills seemed, despite the hopes of 1945, to be incurable. The Americans were 'consciously or unconsciously tending to claim leadership': they were 'a mercurial people, unduly swayed by sentiment and prejudice'. But given Britain's weakness and Soviet threats, 'too great independence of United States

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would be a dangerous luxury'.11 Involving the US was, as pre-war, a desirable, even necessary, objective; but it could also be counterproductive. The involvement, if secured, could only be on American terms, shaped, where possible, by the UK. Outside Europe, again, the US approach was not identical with the British, though at times it coincided. The Americans distrusted Britain's approach because it could be seen as imperialist. Their involvement could be secured only when the communist threat seemed obvious. As a result it only partially supported the British approach. In the event it was to catch the process Britain had initiated for handling the Third world, and in particular Southeast Asia, half-way through. The Cold War polarisation was uncomfortably close to the East-West polarisation Britain had feared: it overlay yet unresolved conflicts. New tensions were added to the older tensions Britain already faced. The demands upon its resources had already helped to prompt a number of major decisions late in 1946, and the appalling winter of 1946-7 had only added to the economic crisis at home. These factors contributed, too, to the decision to withdraw from India. The Cabinet mission of 1946 had failed to secure agreement on any viable scheme for a federal India. Manpower shortages, financial problems, the deteriorating situation in India - 20,000 died in the communal storm in Bengal and Bihar of August-October 194612 - the fear of adverse American reaction, all led the government to announce in February 1947 its withdrawal not later than June 1948.13 It was better to leave than to be driven out: it could be presented as a moral triumph rather than a failure.14 In fact Mountbatten, the new Viceroy, advised a still earlier withdrawal, in August 1947: it was the last date by which Britain could avoid responsibility for a breakdown; and it held out the prospect that India would stay in the Commonwealth.15 Though the constituent assembly had declared for an independent sovereign republic, Patel and Nehru were prepared to accept dominion status at least till a new constitution had been framed: that, said the Viceroy, offered 'a sporting chance of the main Union of India remaining indefinitely in the Commonwealth' .16 That, of course, still meant that India had to be seen in a new light: its government even more to be reckoned with, along with those of Australia and the other Commonwealth members. Nehru indeed convened an Asian Relations Conference in New Delhi in March 1947. An organisation was set up, with a provisional general council which Nehru headed.17 In China the American attempt to mediate in the civil war failed and the British watched with apprehension. Some, like Clark Kerr, had seen the communists still as agrarian reformers; others had taken a less

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romantic view.18 Britain's interests in China were now limited. But communist success would threaten Hong Kong and have an impact in Malaya. Whatever the relations between the Chinese communists and the Soviet Union, their success would also expand the Cold War. These shifts affected British approaches to Southeast Asia. There at the end of 1946 their post-war policies had enjoyed mixed success. In Burma, the government had abandoned its opposition to a one-party approach and made major concessions to the AFPFL, arguably, however, retaining not only the shell of the White Paper policy but also the essential concept, that of a collaboration between the old imperial power and the new nationalists. In Malaya, the British had come to terms with the Malays, and were now to put those terms to the other communities, abandoning the Union, but gaining a unified central government at the price of this concession. In Indonesia, they had, it seemed, pushed the Dutch and the nationalists together, and now hoped Linggadjati would work. In Indo-China, by contrast, the complex political structure that had been to some extent an example to the Dutch had not been implemented, and the year ended with outright conflict between the French and the Vietnam Republic. The Philippines Republic had been set up. There the British played no role, but were critical of the deal between the Americans and the nationalists. They thought they could do better by the Asian peoples for whom they had been or were responsible. The British had seen Southeast Asia not merely as a focus of East-West relations, but as a region. The changes in India and China were to lead them to develop this concept further. The Commissioner-General Early in 1947 Bevin summoned a Foreign Office meeting, attended by Sargent and Dening, Michael Wright, the Deputy Special Commissioner, and Pierson Dixon, the Private Secretary, which discussed Southeast Asia. The headings from which he spoke included food, strategy, political matters, cultural and information issues, and, in the light of these factors, the structure of the Special Commissioner's organisation. The chief change in prospect was political. Our imminent withdrawal from India and Burma makes S.E. Asia main centre of British interest and influence. To the extent that progress towards self-government in N.E.I, and IndoChina corresponds with our own policy, Dutch and Indonesians in the one case and French and Vietnam in the other should be willing to co-operate. Siam should be friendly and willing to co-operate in regional matters. Relationship of India, Burma and Ceylon of the future should be close with British interests in S. E. Asia.

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Cultural and information organisations ought to be developed and to have contacts with India, Burma and Ceylon.19 Dening prepared a paper for the meeting. The food crisis was 'by no means over', and, whatever the future of the International Emergency Food Council (IEFC), 'the food functions of the Special Commissioner' would 'continue for some time to come. These functions have been important in establishing the principle of consultation and coordination which, we hope, may extend to other fields'. Politically Southeast Asia would become 'of even greater significance as a strategic link between the United Kingdom, Africa and Australia'. It was believed that British influence would not 'entirely disappear' from India and Burma, but it would focus on Southeast Asia. 'It may well be that the closer contacts of the U.K. with India and Burma will be maintained through some organisation such as that of the Special Commissioner in Singapore, in view of the great distance from the U.K.' The Governor-General could not fulfil this function, 'since his functions are restricted to his particular colonial field'. Still less could he deal with non-British territory. In Siam we have our own Minister and our aim is to induce in the Siamese a friendly desire to cooperate in regional questions which are of initial interest to us. In the N.E.I, and in Indo-China, the degree of cooperation must depend largely upon the extent to which the Netherlands and France are able to settle their differences with the Indonesians and the Viet Nam[ese]. We must not appear to be ganging up with Western Powers against Eastern peoples striving for independence. Rather should our aim be to contrive a general partnership between independent or about-to-be-independent Eastern peoples and the Western Powers who by their past experience are best able to give them help and, in our case, to some extent protection. Owing to political conditions in the N.E.I, and Indo-China, this process of consultation and cooperation with these areas must be a gradual one. It could hardly be done by a colonial authority, however, 'since this would give rise to distrust and suspicion'. The Special Commissioner should 'feel his way towards eventual cooperation'. British influence in Southeast Asia would not be the result of 'a display of British armed strength': increasingly it must rely on cultural and information organisations. These might be grouped under the Special Commissioner.20 At the meeting Bevin 'said that he was anxious that we should consolidate our position in South-East Asia as soon as possible and before the attention of the world was focussed in that direction, which would happen when the Japanese Peace Treaty came up for consideration, possibly at the end of 1947 or early in 1948'. He wanted an approach made to the new American Secretary of State, General Marshall, over the possible attendance of an American representative at the Singapore Defence Committee. Some stress was put on the need for cultural activity

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in Southeast Asia, though British Council expenditure was being reviewed. 'Mr Dening referred to the number of high Colonial officials in Malaya, and said he understood that the question of re-organising Malaya and Singapore under one Governor (which might involve the abolition of the office of Governor-General) was under consideration.' Bevin said he would, if it were desirable, take up with the Colonial Secretary 'the question of the division of responsibility as between Lord Killearn and the Colonial officials'.21 Allen, who had visited Southeast Asia in January and February, commented on the future of the Special Commissioner's office. To cope with the food crisis, Killearn's staff had 'necessarily' been 'built up in an improvised and extravagant manner', and it was still too large. The press criticised it. 'The Special Commissioner is readily caricatured and when he was away in Java on the important Indonesian negotiations, was accused of "playing at politics" and neglecting his real job: Food.' Allen's conclusion was that, 'despite a certain number of wasted words', Killearn's organisation had 'proved of considerable use and value in this period of scarcity and control'. It had been able to avoid a 'cut-throat scramble' for rice on the part of important territories when supplying territories failed to supply the amounts on which the International Emergency Food Council had made its calculations. More generally, 'by a judicious mixture of wheedling, persuasion and bullying, and by his monthly gatherings of liaison officers to clarify and coordinate the wants and resources of the various territories, Lord Killearn has been able to set on foot a wide programme of economic distribution in South East Asia, the value of which is recognised, albeit grudgingly, by all'. An organisation of the kind was needed while scarcity and international control of food continued, 'and something of the kind to deal with economic coordination throughout the area will be of permanent value'. The organisation was, too, 'a focal point for the radiation of British influence throughout South East Asia, and a stimulus to the British authorities in the area to look at things from an international rather than a purely parochial angle'. It was represented on the Defence Committee, and was in liaison with the colonial authorities, with Burma and with Australia. The French and the Dutch seemed 'quite ready to collaborate, and it is generally agreed that the Special Commissioner's organisation might be a useful starting point. . .' Singapore was also being considered as a regional centre for international bodies or UN agencies, and the Special Commissioner's organisation could deal with them better than any purely local authorities. The Economic and Social Council of the UN planned to set up the Economic Commission for Asia

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and the Far East (ECAFE), but that could not 'take over the many administrative functions' of the Special Commissioner. Lastly, there was the role of the Special Commissioner as adviser to the Secretary of State on foreign affairs. Coordination should be mostly done in London. Killearn was of great value in handling the Indonesian dispute; but now 'we have made our contribution by helping to bring about a constructive agreement between the Dutch and the Indonesians', British troops had gone, and the only task that remained was to exert 'such influence as we have at The Hague, with a view to expediting the early resumption of normal conditions in the region in the interests of world trade'. Siam was outside Killearn's purview, and the problems of Indo-China had been handled through Bangkok, Saigon and Paris. 'Nevertheless, it will remain important to have someone in Singapore to report on problems of foreign affairs affecting the area as a whole.' The office of Special Commissioner should, Allen concluded, be continued 'for the present - and perhaps for an indefinite period . . ., subject to a gradual reduction in the present vast scale of that establishment'. The Colonial Office hoped that by, say, August 1948 'progress will . . . have been made towards fusing the colonies of Singapore and the Malayan Federation under a single Governor'. This would diminish the Governor-General's role. 'His title is in any case already a misnomer, since he does not govern.' The Colonial Office's plan was that MacDonald might take over the Special Commissioner's functions, 'while continuing his own work of coordination in colonial affairs. In other words, a fusion of the two offices would occur, a plan which was originally on the tapis before Lord Killearn's appointment was first proposed . . .' The decision to have two 'exalted officers' was justified at the time. 'There has been more than enough for both of them to do.' MacDonald was 'ideally qualified' for the joint post now contemplated, 'persona grata with the Colonial hierarchy', but, as 'a distinguished politician and not a Colonial official, . . . entirely welcome to the foreign authorities in the area'. The chief advantage would be 'the avoidance of duplication and an all-round shrinkage and economy in staff'.22 The fiscal argument was clearly a powerful one. The Foreign Office had to cut manpower.23 In preparation for a meeting Treasury called, Dening suggested a merger of the functions in MacDonald. 'While there are objections to a British Governor-General exercising functions in respect of foreign territories, if Mr MacDonald were to discard this title and assume that of Special Commissioner together with the functions of that office, he would then in fact be a coordinator for both British and foreign territories . . .'24 The meeting agreed.25 So did the Colonial and Foreign Secretaries and the Prime Minister.26

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Killearn feared that the amalgamation might undo some of what he had done. When his post was first established, 'there was a general assumption in neighbouring foreign areas that it was a thinly disguised agent of British National policy'. This suspicion he had dissipated. 'But when this organisation is amalgamated into a system with what cannot avoid being regarded as a British Colonial complex not only will suspicion be revived but it will probably be intensified and thus undermine much of our work in establishing system of wholehearted regional consultation without national bias . . .'27 John Street at the Foreign Office pointed out that it was the post of Governor-General, not that of Special Commissioner, that was being abolished, and no action was taken.28 In Canberra, John Burton, Secretary to the Department of External Affairs, expressed the hope that the work of Killearn and his organisation would not be diminished: if it were a matter of economy, it might be possible to make it a joint United Kingdom-Australia responsibility. But this was declined.29 The directive, it was recognised, would, however, have to be careful 'to emphasise the division between colonial and diplomatic functions', even if it were not made into two directives.30 MacDonald himself, on the other hand, wanted some modification in the title 'Special Commissioner', and the Colonial Office wished to leave no doubt as to 'the continuing importance of your "colonial" functions'. The alternative suggestion of 'Commissioner-General' still might be objectionable, however, because of a possible association with the Dutch Commission-General.31 Dening thought that, if the Colonial Office clung to the title of Commissioner-General qua colonial territories, 'perhaps Mr MacDonald might be called "His Majesty's CommissionerGeneral and Special Representative" to cover our requirements'. He put the idea to Sir David Monteath, now at the Commonwealth Relations Office, about to head an inspection team that was to report before the merger was implemented.32 The inspection team favoured the continuance of the political functions of the Special Commissioner's organisation, which served, 'in some sort, as the External Affairs Department of what would be - and ultimately may be - the Secretariat of a statutory Governor-General of the British territories in the area'. Its work in the areas of food, health and welfare, was valuable, not only from a humanitarian point of view, but also 'as a means of checking the spread of social unrest which is fostered by economic discontent, and as an instrument, through special conferences and in particular the monthly Liaison Officers' meetings, for the promotion of political harmony and co-operation among the British and foreign territories in the area'. It was thus

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a valuable basis on which to maintain British leadership and influence in South East Asia. The political considerations in favour of the maintenance of the position built up by these means in Singapore are supplemented and reinforced by the recent political developments in India, Burma and Ceylon, which enhance the vital importance of Singapore as a centre for the promotion of British influence in Southern Asia.

Many of the economic functions of the Special Commissioner's organisation would be absorbed by international organisations like ECAFE, and the FAO, which was absorbing those of the IEFC. In the meantime at least, Britain must continue to cope. As a result of the organisation's efforts, too, British prestige stood high, and 'in the light of the interpretation that local non-British opinion is prone to put on the surrender of our controlling position in India and Burma any premature abandonment of our responsibilities in this field would entail a loss of face and would indeed be viewed with serious concern'. The inspection team's report, prepared by Monteath, did not favour the title 'Commissioner-General', since it seemed to have colonial implications. It preferred 'Special Representative', the word 'Special' perhaps being of 'particular value in countering any tendency of foreign critics to allege that the combination of the two posts, particularly in the person of the former Governor-General, covers British plans for the permanent strengthening and entrenchment of "British Imperialism" in South East Asia'.33 The search for a regional approach, though intensified by the changes in India, was still complicated by the relations with the Dutch and, still more, the French. They wished for a regional approach, but in the circumstances, that might only prompt the East-West polarisation the British wished to avoid. The proposal for closer collaboration between the British and the French that Le Roy made in November 1946 could not be considered till 'the situation clears a little', Lambert had written late in January 1947. Moreover, we shall have to decide who are to be our collaborators in this region. Besides F.I.C., Indonesia, Burma, Malaya and Ceylon, are we going to invite Australia, India and the U.S.A.? We want to associate Australia as closely as possible with all that we do in S.E.A. India, too, will have to assume her fair share of responsibility in the area and U.S. representation at any major conference may, I suppose, be taken for granted.34

Collaboration was important, Michael Wright repeated in May, but 'we must be extremely careful to avoid giving any false impression of a policy of "South East Asia for Europeans" \ 35 The Colonial Office suggested the minimum of publicity.36 In fact, given 'the specially delicate situation

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created by the renewed Indonesian crisis', it was decided to say nothing to the French 'unless and until they return to the charge'.37 The same attitude prevailed at the end of the year, when Sir Sydney Caine, the Deputy Under-Secretary of State, wondered whether there might not be a parallel to the Anglo-French discussions on the development of African colonies. Relations were cordial, Dening commented. 'Until things get better in Indo-China, I think we must aim at maintaining the cordiality without committing ourselves to anything very specific.'38 The independence of Burma Concern about the rest of the region had been increased not only by developments in India but also by those in Burma. It advanced towards independence during 1947. In December 1946 the Burma Office had begun to prepare for talks with the Executive Council delegation even before the final decision to hold them. The aim was to satisfy the Bur mans that they had the substance of power and that complete transfer could not be made without legislation, nor in advance of elections, nor before the resolution of quite complicated issues, like defence, foreign relations, and the frontier areas, some of them dependent on the Commonwealth question. Meanwhile concessions could be made: a reiteration of Britain's intentions; an assurance over the Commonwealth option; a formal agreement that the legislature could be used as, or as a basis for, a constituent assembly; a more extensive transfer of defence and external affairs 'in ordinary working' to the Executive Council; and further financial concessions if absolutely required. Britain could also say that it was ready to contemplate the ultimate federation of all Burma, but it would have to add that it could not abandon its pledges to the frontier areas unless their people desired it to do so. A constitution might be knocked together in six to eight months. The legislation, together with parallel agreements, might go through parliament early in 1948. 'As a matter of tactics it may prove desirable', wrote Laithwaite, 'not to let the Burmans imagine that we attach undue importance to retaining them in the Empire . . .' Burma was a weak and poor state, and the burdens of defence and social services would be great. If it left the Commonwealth it would set a bad example, but retention might be costly, 'all the more so since, if past history is any criterion, internal conditions in Burma, once she passes entirely into Burmese control, may before too long be such that we might well feel reluctant to have any responsibility, even indirect, for them'.39 Visiting Burma, Laithwaite confirmed the view that there was no alternative to the AFPFL, and that if it went out of office, 'within a week or

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two' there would be a chaos with which the military could not deal and the police would not. Aung San was 'clearly a man with whom we could do business'. Some favoured remaining in the Commonwealth, some not. The AFPFL did not like the term 'dominion status': dominus, they knew, meant lord. Members of the India and Burma Committee believed 'that we must do all we could to prevent Burma from leaving the Empire, in their own interests as much as our own . . . It would be well to consider whether by the use of a different expression it might be possible to remove the fears of the Burmese as to the effects of their remaining in the Commonwealth.'40 The politicians in London were less indifferent to Burma's leaving the Commonwealth than the officials, no doubt being more apprehensive of Opposition criticism. Another issue the committee dealt with was related: the fate of the minorities. Those in the frontier areas had been kept apart from parliamentary Burma, but that division would be hard to sustain in the longer term. The position of the Karens was even more difficult, since they dwelt not only in the hill areas but also, intermixed with Bur mans, on the plains: a 'Karenistan' was a doubtful prospect. A Karen goodwill mission to London in September 1946 had led L. B. Walsh-Atkins to conclude that 'they would probably be prepared in due course to amalgamate with self-governing Burma, provided that, and so long as, Burma remained within the Commonwealth'.41 The Executive Council delegation to London was confined to ministerial Burma, though not to the AFPFL. Preparing for it, the committee was rather optimistic. The Secretary of State thought that there must be special arrangements for the nonBurmans for some time to come. A commission of enquiry might gain time.42 The right approach, the committee felt, was to point out that the AFPFL had 'repeatedly made it clear that they did not wish to include unwilling peoples within the boundaries of independent Burma', and it was 'accordingly now up to them to work out conditions under which the Frontier Areas would join the rest of Burma of their own free will . . . It should be possible to work out some form of local autonomy, under which we retained perhaps certain rights of intervention.' That was only possible if Burma remained in the empire. 'It was important that the Frontier Tribes should not be pressed to join the rest of Burma against their will, if it was about to leave the Commonwealth.' A commission of enquiry would show the Burmese that His Majesty's Government was sincere and also 'impress upon the Frontier Tribes that some concession might be necessary'.43 Bevin stressed that if the delegation went back unsatisfied widespread disorders were likely, disrupting rice supplies. 'A breakdown in the supply of rice would have the most serious consequences throughout

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South East Asia and even further afield.'44 This no doubt contributed to the conciliatory approach of the British. In the discussions, they abandoned their search for an elected legislature. At least, however, there would be elections for a constituent assembly.45 No 'National Government' would be formally set up, but conventions would extend the role of the Executive Council.46 The Burmese delegation wanted an early association of the frontier peoples with the Burma government. A member of it suggested ascertaining the views of the frontier peoples at a conference to be held in Panglong in February.47 The British still sought a commission of enquiry,48 and the Burmese grudgingly accepted their proposals for consultation.49 The fate of the frontier peoples had, however, been substantially decided without their participation. The Karens' position was more difficult: nothing had been secured for the plains Karens beyond representation in the constituent assembly. Opponents of the AFPFL, Saw and Ba Sein, made out that it had won too little, and the communists were also expected to be critical. If Aung San had those battles to fight, the British ministers were concerned about parliament. The Prime Minister's statement was made on 28 January. In it he made three points. One was the need to ensure that what was done over the frontier areas was done in accordance with the wishes of the frontier peoples; and he was able to announce that the Under-Secretary of State for the Dominions, A. G. Bottomley, would go to Burma in that connexion. Second, Attlee mentioned that two of the delegates had been unable to sign the statement, though it was thought that it would have the support of the Burmese people. Third, he expressed the hope that Burma would stay in the Commonwealth.50 R. A. Butler, speaking for the Conservative Opposition, asked if the Karens had been consulted about their participation in the elections. Attlee replied that they would be represented in the constituent assembly, but then went on to discuss the frontier areas.51 It is hard to escape the conclusion that the British ministers had not fully grasped the problem of the Karens, who were not confined to the frontier areas. The Karens' own suggestions had not been practical. The Burma Office's own compromise - a medium-sized Karen state - did not get discussed. But if the Burmans' view of the British was based partly on long-standing opposition to foreign rule, the Karens had a partly justified distrust of the Burmans' attitude to them, sharpened by the approach of majority rule in a unified Burma. 'Speaking personally', Laithwaite wrote to Ranee at the end of January, 'in the light of what I heard from you when I was in Rangoon and the views one heard expressed in Burma, I think it is well worth paying whatever price we have paid if the result is to get good and contented relations between Burma and ourselves and to enable the

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present situation in Burma to be held . . .' He speculated on the prospect of Burma's remaining in the Commonwealth. 'For obvious reasons they will be extremely shy of saying anything about that at this stage and the decision itself is one for the Constituent Assembly.' But he was hopeful.52 Provided the agreement could be 'implemented smoothly', Aung San told a press conference, 'then this question might be considered more sympathetically by people of Burma'.53 The Panglong conference went well for the Burmans, thanks in particular to Aung San's diplomacy. The frontier peoples would have autonomy within Burma. In the interim the frontier areas would by convention be brought within the purview of the Executive Council, to which the Governor would appoint a Shan as Counsellor, assisted by a Chin and a Kachin. That virtually ended the special regime, Laithwaite realised, and wondered if there were a need for the proposed enquiry.54 There were, Walsh-Atkins wrote, three possible ways of viewing the agreement. It could be regarded as 'entirely satisfactory', with Britain's obligations being discharged, the Executive Council showing statesmanship, and the frontier peoples' reluctance to join Ministerial Burma proving to be a fabrication of British officers. An alternative view was that the frontier areas representatives, with no evidence that Britain's pledges had 'any effective backing', hastened to adopt as their policy what they thought would be that of the Burman leaders; that the Burmans obtained what they wanted; and that the British, 'at the cost of looking a little foolish, have preserved our reputation in the eyes of the outside world and avoided the overt denunciation of promises and obligations we were unable or unwilling to meet, by the expedient of securing the free consent of the Frontier Areas to a course to which we had, in effect, arranged that there should be no alternative'. A third school of thought might accept this interpretation, but criticise not so much the London and Panglong agreements as the policy of 1945, 'namely the promising at one and the same time of full self-Government to Burmese Burma and of a special regime to the Frontier Areas'. The promises were 'very nearly mutually incompatible': even had the separation worked, 'it might have promoted, instead of healing, schisms and distrust'. A heartache was now substituted for a headache. But there could also be some distress at 'a lack of candour on our part': the British made promises which came to mean little, yet were not acknowledged as meaningless or impracticable.55 The secretary of the Karen Central Organisation (KCO) congress, held 5-7 February, had protested against the London agreement, the inadequate quota in the constituent assembly, and the failure to give cognisance to the claim to a separate state, and threatened nonparticipation.56 Walsh-Atkins was 'a little uneasy that the Karen

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representations had not received very much attention'.57 They had two seats on the Executive Council and 24 in the Constituent Assembly, Laithwaite commented, and could bring pressure to bear in an assembly where the AFPFL were unsure of an overwhelming majority.58 Monteath felt that the Karens 'deserved well of the British not only in the 1939-45 war, but before', and they should not be 'let down'. But he did not see what more could be done: 'there is not in the Burma case even the card of entry surviving in the India case, of a requirement that the new constitution shall adequately provide for the interests of minorities before it, or the action necessary to give it effect, is recommended to Parliament. . ,'59 In the absence of a deal the Karens were likely only to become more extreme as the independence of Burma drew nearer. If it were to be outside the Commonwealth, their concern would be all the greater. In the face of their quandary, the Karens were indeed becoming more divided, the KCO breaking apart into the Karen National Union (KNU) and the Karen Youth Organisation (KYO). The former put up proposals, and Aung San attempted to meet some of them. The result, however, was to renew and in fact to intensify the Karens' divisions. Not surprisingly he was tempted to turn them to account. There were discussions between members of the Executive Council and representatives of the KNU and KYO. The KNU could not accept its offers, however, and decided to boycott the elections. Aung San approached the dissidents and got nominations for all the Karen constituencies and also three Karens were put in for non-communal constituencies.60 The Frontier Areas Commission of Enquiry was to report 'as to the best method of associating the Frontier peoples with the working out of the new Constitution for Burma'.61 Bottomley could not be spared from the Dominions Office for this as well,62 and Attlee approved the appointment of D. R. Rees-Williams.63 The KNU, as Bernard Ledwidge (a Burma Office official who accompanied him) commented, were against even federation with Burma, though they paid lip-service to the idea.64 The report provided for special voting in the Constituent Assembly, but only in respect of existing units in the Part I Scheduled Areas. As Morley suggested, 'this begs the whole question' for the Kachins of Bhamo, and for the Karens in Salween and elsewhere.65 The report was, however, approved, though the telegram stressed that everything possible should be done to ensure that the Karens could express their views.66 'If we had continued to hold on the Frontier Areas', as Bottomley put it, 'it would have resulted in continual strife. We should have got more and more deeply involved. Eventually, after possible bloodshed, we

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should have been compelled to withdraw and the potential friendship with the new leaders of Burma would have been lost forever.'67 The Rees-Williams commission was one of a number of such bodies in decolonising territories that collected evidence in a way more likely to dampen criticism at home than sample opinion among the peoples directly concerned. But the fact was that there were not many realistic choices available. Perhaps more could have been done to explain this. The British, as Walsh-Atkins had said, lacked candour. Their concern about criticism at home again helped to prevent the admission that their earlier policy could not be sustained which had to precede the persuasion they needed to try with the frontier peoples. Nor did they find a way to bring forward their solution for the interlinked, but not entirely congruent, Karen problem. A gap was left, filled with the divisions of the Karens and the sharp-witted politicking that the AFPFL leaders shrewdly - but perhaps not farsightedly - combined with their moderation. The ultimate result was strife and bloodshed. It was not of the kind Bottomley envisaged. But it was an embarrassment to the British. Burma's membership of the Commonwealth might have offered some reassurance to the Karens, though it could have provided only a moral, not a legal, backing for any constitutional safeguards they secured. Not surprisingly, Rees-Williams canvassed with his Burman colleagues on FACE the question of Burma's staying in the Commonwealth. Tin Tut told him that the intelligentsia wanted to, but that the rank and file of the AFPFL were for complete independence. Others were harder to convince. 'I said that some of the Karens favoured it as a safeguard since they did not trust the JBurmans but that some of the Kachins, whom we had not yet heard, also might favour it because they feared Chinese infiltration . . .' The problem, said Nu, was the masses, who saw dominion status as 'something inferior. I replied that Aung San had great power over the masses. Thakin Nu said he doubted whether it was as great as that'. The Burmans were also uncertain, as Rees-Williams later put it, 'what attitude India would take and if India went out of the Commonwealth then they could not justify an earlier decision for Burma to stay within it'. Tin Tut wanted some form of association like Eire's. 'They all said that what they wished was some title which could denote independence and yet allow them to associate with the other Nations in the Commonwealth.' Nu and Khin Maung Gale thought 'British' should be dropped from the title of the British Commonwealth of Nations: it was 'a big stumbling block in Burma and also they believed in India'. The Burmese had been fighting the British for a hundred years and could not accept the word. Nu suggested that the Prime Minister should call a conference on the matter. Rees-Williams saw this as a step forward

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for Nu, hitherto 'strongly anti-Commonwealth'. He thought that a title like 'United Commonwealth of Nations' might 'have more appeal to people not of British descent'.68 If the prospects for a lasting deal between the Burmans and the Karens and even the other peoples depended in part on Burma's remaining in the Commonwealth, that question in turn depended in part on the attitude of the Burmans. As Nu suggested, the previous history of Anglo-Burman relations did not make it likely; nor did the more recent history, and the need to fight elections on the basis of mass appeal did not improve the prospect. In a speech on their conclusion, Aung San had declared that complete independence did not preclude close association. At the time Burma was liberated 'the Burmese would cheerfully have accepted Dominion status', he maintained, 'but during the political struggle that was only finally resolved by the conference in London this January, much of the old hostility towards Britain and suspicion of British intentions had been aroused, and this would militate against a close relation'.69 In a speech in Cantonment Gardens on 17 April, he was, however, somewhat more positive. 'As a master and slave, we do not wish to have the British but it appears to me as master to master, we need the friendship of the British . . .'70 The possibility that Britain might meet the Burmans part-way was mentioned in the House of Commons on 2 May during the annual debate on continuing the Section 139 provisions in Burma. Butler had alluded to an opportunity for a new relationship in the Commonwealth's fourth period. A word other than 'Dominion' might be found. But, perhaps as a warning to the Labour government, the Conservative leader suggested that the new relationship was not to be obtained by 'dropping on our knees . . . After all, entrance to this club or society is itself a privilege'.71 The temporary acceptance of dominion status by India, and the hope that it might continue, reduced the chance of any concession to Burma in the interim.72 Victorious in the elections, the AFPFL held a preliminary convention, and it looked towards an independent sovereign republic.73 That would make it difficult for the assembly to decide to stay in the empire after all, Laithwaite pointed out.74 A guidance telegram for Ranee admitted that 'dominion status' was now a term not liked by dominions and that 'a more acceptable description would be autonomy or independence within the Commonwealth'. The features characterising the Commonwealth included 'allegiance to a common King'; hitherto, but not essentially, 'a Constitution or system of government based on parliamentary democracy'; and 'a system for close co-operation and mutual exchange of information, though without prejudice to the independent exercise of the full sovereignty of each Nation', in the fields of defence and

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international and economic affairs, not based on written agreements, but flowing from 'common blood, traditions, sentiments, religion and political and legal institutions which broadly speaking operate to ensure that despite some differences in detail all Nations of the Commonwealth react on similar lines to major issues'. If allegiance were lacking, a new form of association would be involved, and such 'could only be adopted if on close examination it were considered on balance of advantage to U.K. and existing Dominions'. Eire could not be regarded as a precedent for Burma, as Tin Tut hoped. Burma is a small and weak country and its inclusion within Commonwealth on terms of equivocal acceptance of forms and obligations of membership is not likely in the eyes of U.K. and Dominions to appear to bring sufficient advantage to outweigh disadvantages to them of undertaking obligations towards Burma which automatically flow from membership while prejudicing essential features of Commonwealth as hitherto understood.75 Aung San wanted 'strong ties' with Britain, but not allegiance.76 Thakin Mya asked what Ranee called a 'rather astounding but most indicative question. "Would it be possible for Burma having gained its independence to enter the Commonwealth voluntarily [?]" My answer to this question was that it would be for H.M.G. and Dominions to decide . . .' Kyaw Nyein thought Anglo-Burma relations might take the form of the 'Britannic Alliance' described in Tin Tut's Burmese Review of 12 May, involving a political union without allegiance to the British Crown. Nu also referred to this concept and to the conversations with Rees-Williams. He contemplated a mission to the UK, to be described as 'fact-finding', but in fact aimed at alliance.77 Monteath regretted that Rees-Williams had ventilated with 'these unsophisticated but ambitious politicians a new conception of the Commonwealth connection for which there is as yet no authoritative support whatever'.78 The AFPFL leaders also sought an early transfer of power, and the Burma Office entertained some hope that, given the Indian example, they might accept continued dominion status as the price. A message Attlee sent to Aung San asked him to consider the bearing on the future of Burma of events in India. 'I hope you will, if you can, avoid coming to a precipitate conclusion as to whether Burma should stay in or leave the Commonwealth. I think our friends in India have on occasion passed hasty resolutions which they afterwards regretted . . .' Friendly feelings would remain in any case, 'but a decision to leave the commonwealth will necessarily lessen our opportunities to be helpful'.79 The official statement, initially drafted by Laithwaite, indicated that it might be harder to obtain the approval of parliament of 'any further financial arrangements' if Burma became a foreign state. In external relations,

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Burma's case was likely to be supported with less energy, and less confidential information would be available. A defence agreement would have to involve Burma in 'certain formal undertakings of a wider character than are likely to call for inclusion in such formal arrangements as might be needed were she a member of the Commonwealth'. An independent Burma would fall outside any system of empire preferences. In the Commonwealth Burma would have to accept the king, but it would have the right to leave. Assistance would be easier to arrange. Above all Burma 'would have the advantage of being a member of a strong and voluntarily united group'. Aside from this statement, Ranee should stress 'that to remain inside Commonwealth may place Burma at greater disadvantage in dispute with a member of it. . .' The statement was 'cautiously worded' lest there should be a leak. But you should as from yourself strongly emphasise weak position of Burma between two great countries like China and India; great advantage to be derived by her from membership of a large group such as the Commonwealth, and additional strength which she might derive in diplomatic negotiation in which she might be ill placed to bargain were she standing on her The New Times of Burma drew a different lesson from India: it had failed to achieve complete independence because of lack of unity.81 When Ranee saw the AFPFL leaders, Aung San affirmed that complete independence was alone acceptable. 'Any other course would split the party and would result in the Communists coming to power.' Aung San referred to Nu's discussion with Rees-Williams. 'He added that if H.M.G. had given Dominion status to Burma in 1946 whilst AFPFL was united all would have been well. My comment was I doubted if this remark were correct.' Ranee agreed, however, that the AFPFL's fear of the communists was well founded. 'We have now come to the parting of the ways . . ,'82 P. G. Nash, the Governor's secretary, drafted a telegram in which Ranee revived the notion of modifying the Commonwealth relationship. If Burma left the Commonwealth, British influence there would decline, and the vacuum might be filled by 'an outside power'. The example might be followed by other countries, such as Ceylon and Malaya. The conclusion I reach therefore is that the time seems ripe for a new conception of association within the Commonwealth not necessarily owing allegiance to the Crown especially for those countries which have no ties of blood culture or religion . . . In my opinion it is a question not only whether H.M.G. has a dynamic policy for S.E.A. but whether H.M.G. can produce a new conception of Commonwealth to meet new conditions . . . 83

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But India's decision, and the chance that it might stay in the Commonwealth in the longer term on the interim basis it had accepted, ruled this idea out. A decision on their part to leave the Commonwealth Britain would regret, Listowel, now Secretary of State, said, but it would be still more regrettable if the AFPFL leaders endeavoured to keep Burma in and as a result were overthrown by the communists.84 For the sake of India and the older dominions, Britain could not modify the Commonwealth relationship. The AFPFL leaders must be left to judge whether they could remain in. But it would be better that they left than that they were overthrown. There was thus another factor in the British appraisal: the fear of destabilising Burma. The best hope of retaining Burma in the Commonwealth, Mountbatten had argued in 1945-6, was to conciliate the AFPFL, even at the expense of the democratic ideals to which the Commonwealth was then dedicated. But now it was better to abandon this hope than to risk throwing Burma into a chaos from which the communists would benefit. The realisation of democratic ideals had itself been regarded as a contribution to international stability in the aftermath of a war against dictatorships. They had been compromised in Burma. But the continued dominance of the AFPFL in Burma was a guarantee against its falling to the communists, now increasingly seen as the new threat to the free world. On 17 June the Constituent Assembly resolved that Burma should be an independent sovereign republic. Next day Nu outlined a plan for a federation of countries, with a planned economy, 'within the sphere of British influence', which Burma could join.85 Listowel thought that Nu should not be encouraged 'to think that we regard his proposals as practical polities'. The wise course was to agree to Burma's independence outside the Commonwealth as soon as possible.86 His colleagues on the India and Burma Committee did not accept this line: they still hoped to persuade the Burmese of the advantages of membership. The Burmese could be told, for example, that they would get more support in any dispute with India or China.87 Preliminary discussions with members of a mission to London led by Nu did not alter Listowel's views: the rank-and-file of the AFPFL were against remaining in the Commonwealth, and power would fall to the communists if the current leadership lost its influence. Attlee, however, thought that a minister might visit Burma 'with a view to dispelling the ignorance and misapprehension . . . about the nature of Dominion status among both the leaders and the rank and file of A.F.P.F.L.'.88 Officials tended to agree with Listowel. That was true at the Foreign Office as well as at the Burma Office. 'Assuming . . . that Burma, in spite

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of all our efforts, nevertheless determines to be an independent sovereign state, I do not think we should take this too tragically, since it would not be impossible to get what we want in treaty form', Dening wrote. Beckett doubted if it were advantageous to promise support to Burma as against India or China.89 The more optimistic ministers were disillusioned by their first formal meeting with the Nu mission on 25 June. Attlee indicated that, 'if the Burmese were prepared to give Dominion status a fair trial', Burma could have terms similar to those given to India. Nu indicated that Burma wanted the closest ties with the Commonwealth, but that it could not recognise the position of the Crown. Part of the pattern of the Commonwealth was common allegiance to one king, ministers pointed out, the symbol of 'the free association of independent peoples'. The relationship had grown up over time. 'There was no scope for compromise. If a country was a member of the Commonwealth, it could share in all the disadvantages of the customary relationship; if not, no treaty could be devised which would place it in the same position, since the commonwealth relationship was not capable of definition by treaty.' Burma would need help in its early years in dealing with both internal and external problems, and help would be easier to afford if it were in the Commonwealth. Nu recognised the force of the arguments. But the mission could not even promise that on its return it would try to argue for acceptance of dominion status. 'On this point the leaders of A.F.P.F.L. could not afford to be courageous; if they did so, they would be accused of betraying their country and many of their supporters would be encouraged to transfer their allegiance to the Communist Party. Dominion status had become a term of abuse in Burma . . .' Attlee suggested a visitor might explain it to members of the AFPFL and of the Constituent Assembly. Nu had no personal objection, but thought that a visit might be interpreted as a move by the British government to go back on its promise of an early transfer of power. The discussion then shifted to the future relationship between an independent Burma and the British Commonwealth. But Attlee at once rejected Nu's concept of 'creating a political Federation based on the integration of Socialist Parties throughout the world' as 'a totalitarian conception'. The discussion turned to the date for the transfer. It was important for the AFPFL, Nu declared, to achieve it by 31 January, otherwise the communists might resort to arms to force the pace. But Attlee would promise only to introduce a bill at the beginning of the 1947-8 session.90 Cripps, who talked to Nu in the evening, was now convinced that there was no prospect of a transfer of power on the basis of dominion status, though he thought the treaty might include a provision under which His Majesty's government would support an application from Burma to rejoin the Commonwealth within a period of twelve months.91

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The British once more considered the question of modifying dominion status before the Burmese mission left London. MacDonald had sent an extended comment on the Nash-Rance telegram. Burma's departure, he argued, would be 'regarded through Asia - not only in countries for which we are responsible, but also elsewhere - as unchallengeable evidence of the weakening of British influence'. The alternative to British influence was likely to be communism, with the Chinese movement acting as the agent of the Russians. If Burma stayed in, others, such as Malaya, would do so, and the British Commonwealth, one of 'nations and peoples of many races, colours and civilizations', would enhance the 'moral influence' and 'material security' of Britain. The solution MacDonald sought was one 'which, in part at any rate, abolished the institution of the Crown whilst fully preserving the personality of the King throughout the Asiatic members of the Commonwealth'. He pointed to the Eire precedent, which he had advised the Cabinet to accept when Secretary of State for the Dominions: 'can we devise an arrangement... by which a Burmese republic remains member of the Commonwealth, recognising the King as head of the Commonwealth and accepting His Majesty as the Supreme Constitutional authority through which it should act in many matters touching external affairs?' MacDonald recognised the difficulties. 'If there were any chance of persuading the new Indian Dominions to continue as Dominions recognising the King as their Constitution [al] head for all purposes, both internal and external, then it would be a mistake to permit Burma to set a fashion which was more qualified in its loyalty to the Crown.' But he thought it unlikely. The precedent, if established, might be one that South Africa would seek to follow, which would be unfortunate. Possibly His Majesty's government would wish to be more 'reticent' on defence and foreign affairs in the case of countries that did so: perhaps, he added, there should be members and associate members.92 Killearn discussed the issue with MacDonald. He drew attention to the importance of the area between India and China, the Pacific and Australasia. Whatever happened in India, Burma, Ceylon and ultimately Malaya would be 'a nucleus Commonwealth influence in such association between the countries of South East Asia as may develop'. Without it, the field would be left open to the extension of the influence of communism and economic domination by China or India.93 'Any change of policy in consequence?' asked Laithwaite.94 The India and Burma Committee discussed MacDonald's telegram on 1 July 1947. The Secretary of State for the Dominions thought it paid 'insufficient attention to the political effects of India's decision to accept Dominion Status. If power could be successfully transferred in India on this basis, it would effectively counteract the adverse impression which Burmese departure from the Commonwealth would create.' He

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doubted if existing dominion governments would agree that Burma should have equal status with them 'if it was not prepared to participate in the common allegiance to the Crown. It seemed likely that they would not regard the Eire precedent as acceptable, particularly in view of the fact that India had accepted allegiance to the Crown . . .' Cripps thought that in due course India would raise the question of allegiance, and it was necessary to seek an alternative source of cohesion. There was time for Burmese opinion to change before the constitution was finalised. Possibly by then some discussions could have begun on modifying the Commonwealth association, and the Burmese might postpone their departure. The committee was opposed to 'any concession regarding the form of Commonwealth association at this stage', though, as India might raise it, it should be urgently examined. It agreed to seek the inclusion in the Anglo-Burman treaty of a provision facilitating re-entry within a twelve-month period.95 'Our wisest course is to strengthen with all our might our many other ties in Burma - social, cultural and economic', wrote Peter Murray at the Foreign Office.96 Another official had suggested that the Foreign Office was interested in a satisfactory settlement over the Karens and the frontier areas: otherwise there might be trouble with Siam and China, the latter perhaps trying to profit from 'the weak and distracted state of Burma after our final withdrawal'.97 Out of the Commonwealth, Burma would be more subject to outside pressure that might moreover turn its internal fragility to account. That fragility might also be increased by withdrawal from the Commonwealth, for that would enhance the anxiety of the Karens and the frontier peoples. Ranee asked Listowel to urge on the Nu mission 'that a satisfactory settlement of the Karen question is an essential prerequisite of any legislation for the transfer of power'. The Karens, he said, were 'now virtually united in their demand for an autonomous State embracing the Salween and Thaton districts and like the Kachins are unlikely to accept the proposed constitution unless the substance of their demands is guaranteed'.98 Attlee did indeed speak to the mission, members of which said Karen views were difficult to ascertain.99 In fact Karens were now substantially agreed on aiming at an autonomous unit in a federal Burma. The Burman attempt 'to bounce the Karens', Morley thought, had failed, 'and they will have to take the Karen desiderata more seriously'.100 Again the British were too optimistic. Moreover, Aung San was no longer there to attempt a new deal, while the prospect of Commonwealth reassurance entirely vanished. On 19 July Aung San and several members of the Executive Council were assassinated. The crime was ultimately brought home to U Saw. Dorman-Smith was to argue that he had been condemned before he was

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arrested and hoped the British could at least intervene against a public hanging.101 But Dening could see no grounds to interfere, and doing so would only revive suspicions of the British.102 The assassination itself had done that, and in turn it had become even less likely that Burma would remain in the Commonwealth. 'The acceptance of Dominion status seems unfortunately now less likely than ever to be practical polities', Ledwidge remarked. Morley agreed: 'the weaker the Govt, the less easy would it be for it to come round to Dominion Status - paradoxical though that may seem from here'.103 Taking over, Nu stressed that the aim was 'a completely independent Republic'. Morley thought Nu was 'playing up courageously'. But it drove 'a further nail in the coffin of hope that Burma will yet give Dominion Status a trial'.104 The minorities could only be more anxious and while, at Ranee's request, Nu took over from Aung San, he was not in a position, nor perhaps the right man, to win them round. A planned defence mission to Burma went ahead. Burma's strategic importance, the Joint Planners had concluded, lay 'primarily in its position in relation to India and S.E.A[sia]'. For India Britain would not in future be 'directly responsible', while, so far as Southeast Asia was concerned, the loss of Burma would not be 'vital'. Provided Burma became 'a stable country free from foreign domination, either within the Commonwealth or allied to us', Britain's strategic requirements would be limited. But it was desirable to prevent Burma's 'falling under the domination of any potentially hostile power', and it should play its part in 'the general defence scheme of the Southeast Asia area'.105 An interdepartmental working party headed by Sir H. Wilson Smith now envisaged a treaty with a Burma that was outside the Commonwealth. No troops would be posted in Burma, but Britain should be able to send troops there, and the airports should be maintained. A British military mission might assist with the organisation and training of the Burma Army.106 The Cabinet committee thought that the defence mission might be more forthcoming if Burma did not leave the Commonwealth.107 Leading the mission, John Freeman, the parliamentary Undersecretary, found this prospect hopeless: 'to accept Dominion status now after what has been said in the past, and particularly after their election programme, would only lead to the complete discrediting of A.F.P.F.L. and a consequent strengthening of the communists.'108 Tin Tut, on the other hand, wanted an alliance.109 Indeed, if the COS wanted a right to introduce troops, there ought to be some guarantee to come to the help of Burma, Freeman thought.110 In the event, a compromise provided that Burma would invite in the British in the case of aggression:111 'the advantage of Commonwealth membership without liabilities', as Ranee put it.112

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The ministerial visit, sought by the British and carried out by Listowel, did not in fact again raise the question of Commonwealth membership. Listowel did, however, endeavour to urge agreement between Nu's government and the Karens. But he failed. 'My colleagues and I though regretting the failure, are glad', Nu rather sanctimoniously told Cripps, 'that a member of His Majesty's Government has been able to see for himself how difficult it is to secure a united demand from the Karens and that in default of an agreement among themselves, the provisions we have included in our draft Constitution are the best we can devise . . ,'113 The Karens were indeed divided, but Nu's policy did nothing to bring them together. Some wanted to wait till they could see how things were likely to shape up in Lower Burma. As R. E. McGuire and Laithwaite had suggested, Listowel made it clear that after the transfer there was no question of British interference on behalf of the Karens in Burma.114 Tin Tut visited Britain to settle the financial issues, important to settle, as Listowel told Attlee, lest the government were to be accused in Churchillian phrase of 'paying and going'.115 The Labour government was concerned to minimise criticism in Parliament when the independence bill came before it, as promised, at the opening of the session in October. By then the constitution, borrowed from Yugoslavia, was complete, an 'odd mixture', as Murray put it, 'of Anglo-Saxon Democratic ideals - freedom, law, justice, international cooperation - and more modern Socialist doctrines of State Socialism in the economic sphere, free primary education, limitation of land holdings etc'.116 Nu revisited London and on 17 October signed the treaty, in which the financial arrangements were included, and to which the defence agreement of 29 August was annexed, as well as notes in which Nu indicated that the Burma government would provide equitable compensation if the policy of nationalisation led to the expropriation or acquisition of British interests.117 But, as the Cabinet lamented, Burma was leaving the Commonwealth.118 War damage had not been settled and, as Laithwaite put it, 'it is very unfortunate that Burma was finally conquered when Winston's father was Secretary of State for India, for he cannot resist (oblivious of the fact that the Burma business has worked out very well) making some caustic references to H.M.G.'s policy every time that he has a slap at them over India'.119 In the debate on the second reading Churchill indeed suggested that half or even a third or a quarter of the British troops squandered on a futile policy in Palestine would have sufficed 'to enable the transfer of power to a Burmese Government, on the basis of Dominion status, to be carried out by regular and measured steps'. But the whole business had been conducted from weakness not from strength; the breathing space

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had been curtailed; and instead of dominion status there was immediate independence. T certainly did not expect to see U Aung San, whose hands were dyed with British blood and loyal Burmese blood, marching up the steps of Buckingham Palace as the plenipotentiary of the Burmese Government.' Churchill dissociated the Opposition from the bill, which rebuffed loyalties, offered no effective protection to British commerce, and transferred power to a government which could not maintain order. Not only the government and the Liberals, but other Tories criticised this line, including those earlier associated with drawing up the Blue Print.120 The House of Lords was better mannered. Munster indeed described the decision for independence as 'very ill advised and far too hasty', and Salisbury declared the policy was one 'based on the line of least resistance . . . of hoping for the best'. Pethick-Lawrence argued that to insist on an intermediary stage might have prevented negotiations and involved the introduction of more forces: a war would have followed, or the ultimate relinquishment of dominion status without friendly feelings. Lord Rankeillour questioned the adequacy of the provision for minorities, but the government argued that the Burmans had behaved in a statesmanlike way.121 The fourth of January was chosen as the auspicious day for proclaiming independence, though Ranee did not care for the time, 4.20 am.122 It was thought wise to remove the expression of Britain's confidence in Burma's 'tranquillity and prosperity' from the Prime Minister's independence message.123 The Federation of Malaya

At the same time as it prepared to meet Aung San and his colleagues, the British government had conditionally approved the proposals resulting from the Anglo-Malay talks. They were published on Christmas Eve 1946, and a consultative committee was invited to seek opinion on the proposals from 'all interested individuals, communities and groups'. But already non-Malay opinion had been aroused. On 16 December Creech Jones received a telegram from the PanMalayan Council of Joint Action (PMCJA) urging that the constitution be based on the union of Malaya and Singapore; on self-government and a fully elected legislature; and on citizenship for all who made Malaya their home and focus of loyalty. Despite suggestions from the Colonial Office and from MacDonald, Gent refused to make contact: he would not bypass the Consultative Committee. The MNP indeed withdrew to form the Pusat Tenaga Ra'ayat (PUTERA), while others were suspicious of its left-wing characteristics. But MacDonald met Tan Cheng Lock, the moderate and wealthy Chinese who chaired the PMCJA, and John Thivy,

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leader of the Malayan Indian Congress (MIC), and Gent suggested that UMNO include them in future constitutional talks. Dato Onn's refusal meant the failure of the attempts to cajole the PMCJA leaders: they could only intensify their campaign against the scheme.124 The Consultative Committee held six meetings chaired by H. R. Cheeseman. Its two Chinese members sought amendment of the Working Committee's proposals on the composition of the Legislative Council and on citizenship. The ethnic balance in the former they found inequitable, while birth and permanent residence ought, they thought, to qualify for automatic citizenship. The Cheeseman report diminished Malay predominance on the council slightly but noticeably, the Colonial Office noted, while a minority report from the two Chinese members challenged the citizenship proposals. The Office looked for some compromise which 'the more stable elements amongst the Chinese population' would accept.125 It decided to await discussions with the Malays. Dato Onn had won substantial support for the Working Committee proposals in UMNO. He warned the Governor against further diminishing the rights and position of the Malays: they would then 'swing wide into a coalition with parties definitely anti-British'.126 The Working Committee made a minor change on the process of naturalisation. It sought a compromise on the Legislative Council, but a plenary conference referred it to the Secretary of State.127 In London Creech Jones accepted that the proposals fulfilled his objective of a 'common citizenship'.128 He also accepted a Malay majority among the combined unofficial and State and Settlement membership of the council. The system of 'fixed proportions by race', he added, he accepted only provided that it began 'to give place in the near future to a system of elections whereby representation is demonstrably based upon the will of the people'.129 An immediate settlement was essential, Gent and MacDonald stressed. On 3 July Cabinet endorsed the scheme without any parliamentary debate. After the Malays accepted the final version, a White Paper was published on 21 July, two days, as it turned out, after Aung San's assassination, and the day after the first Dutch police action in Indonesia, and parliament was informed of the 'happy results' on 29 July. There was no debate, though Oliver Stanley thought the proposals departed 'very considerably' from the principle laid down only a year before.130 Non-Malay opposition had been growing. PMCJA and PUTERA had come together, and the Associated Chinese Chambers of Commerce joined them in July. Hartals were launched in Melaka on 9 September and in Perak on 25 September; and on 20 October a country-wide hartal paralysed nearly all the main towns in Malaya. The PMCJA-PUTERA combination did, however, have difficulty in preparing a constructive programme, and only that month was an agreed version of the People's

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Constitution finally published. That seemed to W. R. Linehan and to O. H. Morris at the Colonial Office quite unrealistic. In any case neither Covernor nor Office was disposed to back down. Above all, PMCJAPUTERA was seen as a front organisation for the MCP. That precluded concessions: any delay in implementing the scheme would strengthen the MCP.131 The PMCJA-PUTERA campaign was 'a Left Wing campaign, with which is interwoven a Chinese racial campaign . . . it emphasises the importance of our dissipating at once any lingering doubt that the new constitution is to come into force'.132 On the other hand, the Malays were expecting early implementation and any loss of confidence might turn them 'into channels of a "panIndonesian" (and anti-European) development', as Bourdillon put it.133 The first police action in Indonesia had forced Dato Onn to acknowledge pro-Indonesian sympathies. Morris feared the attractions of the Indonesian movement: continued disturbance might attract fervent nationalists into the MNP; revolutionary triumph might arouse envy.134 It was all the more important to reach a negotiated settlement with the peninsular Malays. The Working Committee was reconvened on 14 October, and a target date of 1 January 1948 was discussed with the Colonial Office. In November Gent insisted that no threats would preclude federation. It finally displaced the Union, a month behind schedule, on 1 February 1948,135 four weeks after Burma became independent. In Sarawak the notorious Circular No. 9 stimulated the anti-cession movement, rather than destroying it. On 2 April 1947 more than three hundred government servants, mostly First Division Malays, completed the three months' notice they had been given when they refused to comply. They referred to themselves as the 338, tiga tiga laban, a figure fixed upon 'because of its association with one of the early battles fought by supporters of the Prophet'.136 The largest single group were Malay schoolteachers, counterparts of those who provided much of UMNO's support in Malaya. The Barisan Pemuda Sarawak (BPS), or Sarawak Youth Front, convened a Sarawak National Conference on 28 June, which evidenced Malay support outside the First Division. Kaum Ibu had been formed in March, led by a Eurasian schoolteacher, Lily Eberwein, who accompanied Kathleen Brooke on her tour in August. The first anniversary of annexation, 1 July 1947, marked the climax of the anticession movement with a big demonstration in Kuching.137 The first Dutch 'police action' The Colonial Office had been concerned at the impact on Malaya of the Dutch police action. It might lead either to an extensive DutchIndonesian conflict or to an assertion of Indonesian independence. Neither of those was, of course, consistent with the main British aim in

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Southeast Asia: the emergence of new states on good terms with the Europeans. The economic needs pointed the same way: supplies from Indonesia, trade with it.138 What happened in one territory might affect another. The example of the conflict in Indo-China was already to hand. Events in Indonesia were thought likely to have a particular impact on the Malays and their readiness to accept the federation which the British were now ready to accept. The prospects of the Linggadjati agreement had always been dubious: it would have been difficult for Sjahrir to carry out, even apart from the back-tracking of the Dutch marked by the Jonkman clarifications of 10 December. That made it difficult even to sign. Schermerhorn hoped that the Indonesians would at least accept the main points in Jonkman's statement.139 Bevin was concerned over the delay. It might be used by the Russians on some pretext to make difficulties in the Moscow talks: 'every delay offers opportunities for mischief-making, and the situation in Northern Indo-China, which has developed as a result of the French and the Viet Nam failing to agree, offers an example.' Though MacKereth could no longer intervene directly, he was instructed to urge the desirability of agreement: 'otherwise there may be another attempt to drag this herring across the trail.'140 In mid-March MacKereth thought the breaking-point was near, and saw Sjahrir. He said that he and his colleagues could not accept all the Jonkman statement as a protocol to the Linggadjati agreement; least of all the indication that it would be invalidated if no economic and financial agreement were concluded. MacKereth suggested he write to Schermerhorn setting out the major objections and declaring that, apart from these, he did not mind if the Dutch saw the statement as their interpretation of the agreement. MacKereth then saw Schermerhorn and mentioned awkward questions in the House of Commons about the Dutch use of arms supplied by the British. Schermerhorn said he had recommended that The Hague see Sjahrir's letter as adequate. MacKereth also suggested a plea to The Hague.141 The Dutch Cabinet authorised signature without that.142 'A sensible and practical solution which has been a long time finding', Whitteridge commented:143 'it was really Mr MacKereth who rescued the draft agreement from ruin.' 144 MacKereth thought the decision came just in time to halt military action.145 Michael Wright preached to Beel and Jonkman when they called in Singapore early in May. 'We looked forward to the close co-operation of the Dutch as well as others, but always on the basis of a European/Asiatic partnership.' Linggadjati 'gave hopes of the establishment of a real working partnership between Europeans and Asiatics in a key area The countries of Southeast Asia were 'looking for a new life, with higher

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standards of living and increased self-government'. Moderate leaders realised that they needed help and were prepared to look to Western countries for it. There were, however, 'strong communist movements everywhere'. As yet, the Soviet Union was not active on a major scale. There was a short-term opportunity to make 'a reality of a partnership between Asiatic people concerned and Western countries'. Beel and Jonkman pointed to the difficulty of convincing the Dutch parliament and people. The latter claimed that it had not been his intention to enforce a unilateral interpretation on the Indonesians.146 J. M. L. Mitcheson, the acting consul-general, reported that senior local Dutch officials have 'admitted to us orally that the use of force in the last resort is contemplated though only after exhausting all possibilities including arbitration and giving us due notice'.147 Actions by local 'fire-eaters' among Dutch naval officers were, however, 'bound to complicate and endanger the delicate political and economic discussions taking place'.148 In The Hague, H. F. L. K. van Vredenburch, Director of Political Affairs at the Foreign Ministry, insisted that the Dutch had no intention of resorting to force.149 Street, however, thought that there was a danger that, when Beel left, 'an attempt may be made at a coup d' etat without the foreknowledge of the Hague'. He thought that the Dutch could finish off the Indonesians quickly: 'at great cost in destruction', Whitteridge added, 'and probably with guerilla warfare of indefinite duration to follow.'150 In The Hague Dening urged on Vredenburch the kind of approach that had been urged on Beel in Singapore. The political director outlined the options: to use force, 'unlikely'; to withdraw; to ask a third party to arbitrate. He criticised Van Mook: he was 'responsible for rumours that the Dutch would seek a solution by force'. Dening once more argued that the British in India and Burma and the Dutch in Netherlands India were 'fundamentally faced with the same problem and had the same opportunities. The days were past when we could hope to rule in Asia by force even if our peoples wanted to do so which they did not. In any case we had neither the man-power nor the money to pursue such a course with success'. But the people of those areas had 'a background of British and Dutch traditions . . . we had . . . an opportunity of getting in on the ground floor of the new Asia if we played our hand properly . . ,'151 In London Attlee told the Cabinet that the Dutch might use force, and that would lead to 'a war of re-conquest'. That would have serious consequences for Britain. 'Politically we should be criticised for having made such a situation possible by keeping British forces in the Dutch East Indies until Dutch troops could be brought in; and an armed conflict between the Dutch and the Indonesians was also bound to

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disturb our own relations with native populations throughout South-East Asia.' A war would also 'delay for years the development of food exports from the Dutch East Indies which we were anxious to encourage in order to reduce our dependence on hard-currency countries'. It was agreed that Bevin should see the ambassador and that the US should be invited to join in an approach to the Dutch government.152 In fact, following a conversation with Dening,153 Attlee saw Michiels. Military action would be long drawn out and embarrassing, and would have repercussions in the UN. 'While there were elements who were in favour of Dutch military action the Government were in favour of negotiation', Michiels responded. Attlee pointed out the danger that, 'if we did not come to an agreement with moderate and reasonable people, power was apt to pass to the extremists'.154 'Dr Foote attributes breakdown to deliberate Indonesian procrastination', Inverchapel reported, 'but State Department has not much confidence in his information or judgment.' Moffat contemplated steps to put pressure on both sides, but would not say what form they would take. He agreed that the US would deplore a Dutch resort to force, and approved of Attlee's approach.155 On their way back Beel and Jonkman had been entertained by MacDonald. He put the familiar British view. 'If we, democratic Colonial Powers, were to retain any position it must be as partners and friends of Asiatic people.' The only policy was to work with moderate leaders, and 'help them along the path towards self government. Any other policy, and above all use of force, would inevitably play straight into the hands of the Communists and assist them in rallying even moderates against us'. But Sjahrir, the Dutch ministers felt, was failing to carry his people with him in 'loyal implementation of Linggadjati': and he wanted Dutch forces reduced below Linggadjati level as a condition of implementing economic and other clauses. The Dutch ministers denied any intention of launching a campaign to seize the whole of Sumatra and Java. But 'they might find it necessary to use local force on a limited scale in particular areas where the situation might get out of hand'. The object would be to secure the implementation of Linggadjati. It was also necessary to 'let the Indonesians know, if only as a bargaining weapon, that the Dutch would not shrink from using force locally and on a limited scale if preservation of law and order so required'. Jonkman did, however, say that the Dutch planned to try to break the deadlock by suggesting the establishment of a interim government for a USI and a joint Dutch-Indonesian gendarmerie in certain areas. Wright was not sure, however, that the proposals would appear as encouraging to the Indonesians as the Dutch ministers suggested. Their arguments about the use of force were also obscure. They did not intend re-conquest, but 'they spoke at one moment of operations which could

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be successfully concluded in two weeks, which sounded like more than some kind of local and limited action. It was difficult to escape the impression that they had some plan for military action up their sleeve', to operate if the Indonesians did not rapidly accept the new offer.156 The proposals were first seen in the press at the end of May. They included an interim government, including representatives of East Indonesia; a universal currency; shipment of rice from the republic to other parts of Indonesia; the establishment of law and order throughout Indonesia, with the assistance of Dutch troops where necessary; and the unified control of exports. The deadline was 10 June. Schermerhorn and Vredenburch wanted the British to use their influence; and if the proposals were rejected, they might welcome arbitration. The views of the Americans must promptly be secured, Allen wrote, but arbitration should not be pressed prematurely.157 A telegram was sent to Washington.158 In Washington F. C. Everson, first secretary at the British Embassy, called at the Department. He suggested that the proposals were an attempt to 'smoke out' the republicans, adding that Sjahrir's position was 'very difficult in that his support stems from the left non-cooperative faction'. The Dutch in The Hague were opposed to force, but those in Batavia apparently in favour.159 The State Department, Inverchapel reported after conveying Britain's views, was 'inclined to investigate the attitude of the Indonesians, on which they have no information, before taking a decision, though it was emphasised that time is short'.160 The Dutch ambassador called at the Foreign Office on the same day, with Vredenburch and H. M. Hirschfeld. Four possible ways of dealing with the situation had been considered: continuing 'desultory negotiations', ruled out by the financial situation; withdrawing from Java and Sumatra, 'not practicable', since it would involve 500,000 people; appealing to the UN, the drawbacks of which needed 'no elaboration'; and employing force 'to a strictly limited extent in order to secure at any rate an area capable of economic self-sufficiency'. The Dutch government was 'most reluctant' to adopt the step, and was therefore asking the US and the UK for their good offices in representing to the Indonesians the desirability of accepting in substance the proposals of late May. P. J. A. Idenburg of Van Mook's office had visited Yogyakarta. He thought a peaceful solution was possible, but that 'in order to solve the most pressing problems at short notice it will be necessary to bear unrelenting pressure on the Indonesians'. Could the British and US representatives visit Yogya, without publicity, and urge acceptance?161 Mitcheson was instructed to go to Yogya and to indicate that the Dutch proposals were 'a real step forward', and that 'the world' was 'becoming increasingly impatient at the delay in reaching a solution', preventing

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the economic recovery of Indonesia and the flow of vital commodities. The Indonesians might resent the virtual ultimatum, but 'the present state of affairs cannot go on for ever'.162 Sjahrir had told B. C. Ballard that the proposals were a 'step back' for the republic: 'they proposed in effect that the Republic should take a parallel position to East Indonesia, i.e. with the Dutch in control. This would mean Dutch troops going to the interior, which the Republic "could not have".'163 Mitcheson visited Yogya on 6 June, using a British plane. Sukarno said that 'he had yearned for closer contact with us', and that his reply would be 'conciliatory and positive'. 'Threatening and reactionary talk by the Dutch military officers and others must cease. Otherwise there could be no mutual trust and without this no practical co-operation.' Sjahrir thought Van Mook was 'sometimes influenced unduly' by General Spoor 'and his crazy policy of a war of nerves'.164 Van Mook seemed to hope for a negative reply, Mitcheson felt.165 He thought the reply would be largely favourable and disappoint the jingo element, which had infected Beel andjonkman while they were in Batavia.166 In fact the reply, though accepting the concept of an interim government, was 'argumentative', and the Dutch were irritated.167 Mitcheson thought the reply 'courageous and dignified'. The local Dutch view was that by it Sukarno recovered the initiative. 'It is felt that his Note is addressed mainly to world opinion in such a way as to compel Dutch either to abandon vital positions or else to take drastic action which would be almost universally condemned.' The frustration was 'so acute that officials show signs of losing their nerve and playing into the hands of those local hot-heads who more and more openly threaten to plunge into military action to avoid further loss of time in negotiations'.168 On the Indonesian side, Berkeley Gage commented, the main obstacle was suspicion of Dutch intentions; at The Hague, the main difficulty, as he saw it, was 'impatience and genuine doubt whether the Indonesians are willing and able to make progress. The Dutch fear that the Indonesians are deliberately dragging things out with the idea of exhausting the Dutch economically and forcing them to withdraw from Indonesia altogether.'169 The Dutch saw 'only an endless vista of negotiations', Street observed at the Foreign Office: perhaps the Indonesians did not want an agreement. The British should follow up 'the valuable start' given by Mitcheson's visit to Yogya. 'Delay is dangerous, because it may give the Dutch military clique the opportunity to force an incident.'170 Michiels was told, in Bevin's words, 'that the Dutch would bring the whole world on them if they were to try a coup'.171 The object, Allen believed, was to get both sides round a table, 'and if possible work out a compromise between their two sets of proposals - each side giving way a bit'.172 A despatch was sent to The Hague. 'I hardly like to think what

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would have happened in India had we displayed the same kind of exasperation and impatience as is now apparently being displayed by the Dutch.'173 Wright suggested a press statement, urging settlement, opposing force, but Bevin did not think it would be 'helpful'.174 Schermerhorn thought force the only option, Wright reported. 'Effect on Nationalist movement in Malaya may be serious. Asiatic opinion in Malaya and elsewhere will of course be watching critically the attitude of HMG.' It helped to equip Dutch forces and Dutch military aircraft were given facilities. A public offer of good offices, preferably jointly with the US, should be made, if possible before 16 June, when the Dutch Cabinet met. Such an offer would at least put the responsibility on whichever side might reject it and resort to force. It would put the UK in a better position in regard to Asiatic and world opinion and facilitate any subsequent steps it would feel obliged to take.175 Again the Foreign Office did not follow this line: it would 'intensely irritate the Dutch'.176 But it approached the US with a suggestion that the two governments privately offer their good offices with a view to bringing the Netherlands government and the Indonesian Republic 'round a table'. If that failed, and the Dutch resorted to force, Bevin would be pressed to make a full statement, covering what the Dutch had done and what they now proposed. There would also be pressure to discontinue assistance to the Dutch forces in respect of training and equipment. That would have 'a very adverse effect' on British relations with the Dutch in Europe, but public opinion might demand it.177 The same indications were given to the Dutch.178 Marshall told Inverchapel that the US was prepared to make representations to both parties, urging them to refrain from force and advising them 'to get together in a further attempt to reconcile their differences', but not to join with Britain in an offer of good offices.179 Street found the US decision 'most regrettable': he doubted if the offer from Britain alone would be well received. Mitcheson might help Sjahrir modify the Indonesian attitude, but there was 'nothing more we can usefully say to the Dutch: their pride . . . will surely not permit them to be affected by any more advice from us.'180 Bland had said the Dutch were 'getting a little tired of being lectured by us'. The British should not antagonise their nearest European neighbours.181 Street agreed: 'We cannot afford to alienate them permanently unless we are really satisfied that in the Indonesians we have a democratic society which can be trusted.'182 The offer of good offices was made, the British also making the point for the first time that Article 17 of Linggadjati provided for arbitration, and that resorting to force would all the more provoke world condemnation.183

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The Dutch Foreign Minister now told Bland there was no need for the offer, in view of the progress made through Mitcheson.184 Sjahrir had made a conciliatory broadcast185 and sent a conciliatory letter to the Schermerhorn commission, Mitcheson and Lambert having persuaded him not to refer to Yogya as that would leave the worst impression on the Dutch.186 Vredenburch praised Mitcheson's 'good work'.187 'It does really look as if the two sides may now be able to get round a table and hammer out a workable plan', Street concluded; but Mitcheson would 'probably be kept busy urging moderation on both sides'. The Dutch were anxious for a quick solution, 'and they have strong financial reasons'. They considered the Indonesian tactics of delay were 'malicious', while the Indonesians were 'afraid of being rushed into an agreement which will leave them little influence'.188 The State Department praised Sjahrir's statement and looked for a prompt settlement.189 Optimism was soon diminished. Van Mook said Sjahrir must get Yogya's confirmation of his concessions if the threat of force were to be withdrawn. He presented an aide-memoire, with a deadline of 27 June.190 He told Mitcheson he did not think Sjahrir could get support or implement an agreement: the republic government had disintegrated; negotiation was useless. Mitcheson replied that this was exaggerated. 'I knew that big business here was urging prompt military action but world opinion was dead against breaking off negotiations.' He said he had authority for military action if the reply was unsatisfactory.191 'I am convinced', Mitcheson wrote, 'that Van Mook having lost all patience has largely engineered this new crisis and that after hopeful results of my latest intervention he deliberately with flat-footed obstinacy drove Sjahrir too far in order to force break-up of the republican front.'192 Summoned to the Foreign Office, Michiels denied the aidememoire was an ultimatum, but said he had advised his government not to be deterred by reactions in the UK if it felt there was no course other than to resort to force.193 'There is really nothing more that we can do', Allen concluded.194 Sjahrir was forced to resign.195 But, while Van Mook's aide-memoire had sought acceptance of the Dutch proposals of 27 May, Sukarno, assuming power, sent a conciliatory response.196 The US had instructed Bernard Baruch, ambassador in The Hague, and Foote in Batavia to indicate that, if agreement were reached on an interim federal government, it would assist in economic rehabilitation.197 The message was delivered in Batavia on 28 June.198 The demarche thus came after the crisis was averted, as Mitcheson pointed out, though it 'most opportunely' consolidated the position.199

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Vredenburch told Baruch that it had been suggested that Van Mook put some questions to the republic and seek written answers: did it recognise the Crown's authority in the interim government? did it agree it was USI that was sovereign and not the republic? did it agree to the return of estates? did it accept joint responsibility for law and order in territories under the republic's de facto authority? Vredenburch stated 'that occasion submitting above questionnaire may be another opportunity for U.S. action as we stressed the view that main influence rests with U.S. as Indo recognise British has little to offer situation besides moral persuasion'. The matter needed to be resolved in fourteen days, in view of the 'deteriorating financial position' of the Dutch.200 Van Mook followed this line.201 The aim, he told Mitcheson and Foote, was one hundred per cent acceptance; otherwise military action.202 The State Department suggested Foote urge a prompt reply.203 Foote thought it would be unsatisfactory. 'In such event some military action may occur.' If the republic agreed to the Dutch proposals, some military action would still be needed to protect property. 'Even police action will be exaggerated by correspondents into full blown war in efforts make headlines.'204 Either way, indeed, the Dutch would be pursuing a policy of backing those they saw as moderates with military force, paradoxical though that traditional policy had become in the days of nationalism. Gage believed 'the best of military plans were apt to go wrong when up against far eastern nationalism. He thought that this applied more than ever in 1947 when we were trying to place our relations with yellow races on a new and mutually beneficial basis.'205 A wholly positive reply from the republic could hardly be expected. In fact, it responded positively, except over a joint gendarmerie. Van Mook saw the reply as 'evasive and unacceptable'.206 A subsequent note was clearer: it was also clear that the gendarmerie was the sticking point.207 The Foreign Office told Mitcheson to encourage a positive response even on this. 'Surely it is reasonable for the Indonesians to agree that this is a necessary function for the Interim Government and should be on their agenda.'208 Sir Orme Sargent suggested to Michiels that if the Indonesians agreed, but deadlock ensued over its composition, 'a way out might be found by the setting up of a police commission of neutral experts'.209 This, though they seem to have raised the idea in Washington,210 the Dutch were not keen on.211 Van Mook told Mitcheson he saw little hope on the gendarmerie 'unless the Republicans gave way pretty completely. He urged me to keep up the pressure . . . I replied that I thought we had done all that could be expected, or more . . .'212 The Australian government felt, with some justice, that the appeals the British and American consuls-general had made to the republic

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authorities - that they should compromise - had led the Dutch to conclude that the British and American governments would, 'in the event of crisis', continue to seek compromise from the republic. So far, the Australian government had been tolerant, given the importance of close relations between the British Commonwealth and The Hague. But now, if no agreement were reached, the Australian government might have to raise the matter in the UN,213 with the risk, the British thought, of Soviet involvement.214 Once more, however, agreement seemed to be at hand. The new premier, Sjarifuddin, reached an agreement with Van Mook, covering a compromise over the gendarmerie, also the withdrawal of republic forces from the perimeters before the Dutch. Van Mook thought that it would be accepted in Yogya, but that Dutch help would be needed to deal with irregulars in some areas. Alternatively, the government would disintegrate and the Dutch would have to intervene.215 The republican government did not accept the terms,216 but made some counterproposals. These the Dutch would not accept. The republicans sought Britain's intervention, Mitcheson telegraphed. He suggested that Britain insist that the Dutch should postpone their decision pending discussions with Bevin, and that the Dutch Prime Minister and Foreign Minister should be invited to London.217 Killearn endorsed the proposal. War would lead to bitterness, and Britain's attempts to restrain the Indonesians would be misrepresented. The behaviour of the Dutch would reflect discredit on the other colonial powers, Britain and France, and prejudice Asia-Europe relationships, at a delicate stage in Malaya, Burma, even India. Hostilities would also set back the rehabilitation and feeding of Southeast Asia.218 'We have . . . pushed the Indonesian leaders farther than the extremist parties behind them will allow', Street had written. Britain should 'turn the heat on the Dutch'. Given 'the great concessions' which the Indonesians had recently made, 'one might have expected a little less high-handed attitude from the Dutch. As a result of the pressure we have exerted on the Indonesians, our own position throughout South East Asia will be jeopardised if the Dutch resort to force.' 'The Dutch are going all out to break up the Republican Govt. and appear to be succeeding', Whitteridge commented: they were 'no longer open to argument'.219 Allen thought there was nothing more to be done. Killearn indeed thought that British pressure on the Indonesians already amounted to 'a bit of a raw deal'.220 With the Dutch, every argument had been used, including a threat to cease military supplies. 'Any further move on our part. . . would . . . merely cause needless bad blood without affecting the course of action which they appear so keen to take', Allen believed.221

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The Foreign Office 'did not feel able' to summon the Dutch ministers to London.222 Dening, however, saw Michiels. The Dutch, it seemed, were now requiring the Indonesians 'to weaken their own military position by unilateral action when the Dutch were not prepared to do the same simultaneously'. That worsened the situation 'when solution seemed near'. Moreover, Australia was contemplating intervention at the UN, and India might take similar action. But Michiels did not depart from the view that he had recently taken, that 'the limited use of force may be the only alternative'.223 The US also urged a peaceful solution. Foote was told that in any talk with the republicans, he was to avoid the suggestion that the US supported recent demands, and in any talk with Van Mook, to say it was 'perturbed by their extreme unilateral nature'.224 Gage spoke to Vredenburch. 'In the old days a unilateral request to be fulfilled 100% backed by threat of force and an ultimatum might have had some effect but not so in the new era of relationship with Eastern peoples . . .'225 The war of nerves became a real war. The Dutch described it as 'police measures of a strictly limited character'. It meant, Boetzelaer told Baruch, 'full military action'. The aim was to create conditions in which the principles embodied in Linggadjati could come to fruition. The Dutch financial position afforded no other alternative, and any further delay would jeopardise the 1949 sugar crop. Van Mook hoped that 'limited action may have profound effect on Republican authorities and may afford moderates opportunity to return to Government showing Djocja elements in minority'.226 This was the line Foote reported: Van Mook, Schermerhorn, and Spoor said they would 'not destroy Republic but. . . establish it in hands, decent sincere men who have interests people at heart'.227 The Foreign Minister seemed, however, to appreciate the risk, as Gage reported, that the measures would rally the nationalists, and lead to large-scale hostilities. He hoped the British would 'assist in putting Holland's case in the best possible light'. Gage said he found it 'difficult to see how this could be done'.228 'The action', Street commented, was 'basically stupid'. The Dutch would 'lose far more by this action than by trying to be patient and limiting their demands to what an Indonesian coalition would accept . . .' Most of them 'never really understood the change which had come over the situation since 1941'. Now either Australia or India was likely to take the case to the Security Council. Britain's action would presumably be limited for the moment to whatever the Cabinet might decide to do about equipment and training. Whatever happens, we shall be in the embarrassing position of trying to follow an uneasy compromise between our position vis a-vis South East Asia

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and our desire not to split Western Europe. It is not an enviable task and . . . the Russians at least will lose no chance of discomforting us.229

The Foreign Office issued a statement, outlining Britain's endeavours to promote a settlement, and expressing the 'keenest disappointment' at their breakdown. Rather incidentally it renewed the offer of good offices.230 Gage had advised against making this public, as it would destroy the chance that the Dutch would accept it. But, given the state of opinion in the UK and elsewhere, it was felt desirable to go ahead. Now, wrote Allen, came the question of stopping military supplies, and cancelling facilities at Singapore. Of the latter the Dutch had not been warned, and it would 'hit them hard'. Bevin was 'insistent' that it must be done and had warned the Cabinet he would be recommending it. Allen also thought that the Dutch should keep up their Linggadjati obligations: the reference to the principles underlying it was insufficient.231 A telegram was sent to The Hague.232 Taking note of Britain's offer of good offices, the Dutch alluded to the help they had received from the UK and the US, and said it would depend on developments whether they would make another appeal to the two governments.233 The Foreign Office concluded that the 'only hope of arresting present tragic course of events' was for the US and UK governments to induce the Dutch to accept 'some form of arbitral solution'. The possibility of an appeal to the Security Council made it urgent to attempt this kind of solution.234 Approached by Sir John Balfour, Lovett of the State Department was unresponsive. The Dutch saw Indonesian affairs as an internal matter. To approach them with suggestions for an armistice or arbitration would 'merely expose us to a rebuff and might possibly prejudice the prospect of whole-hearted cooperation in Paris talks'. The Dutch, too, might consider that they could resist a UN discussion on the same ground.235 ' [I] t may be due to the State Department's well-known touchiness on the subject of Communism', Street had written, 'but for whatever reason I am sure that the Americans hold a much more cynical opinion of the Indonesian Republic than we do.'236 Now, he thought, the US response suggested it was not dismayed by the police action, and the Dutch, including the Americans in their thanks, were aware of that. He suggested that the Dutch might terminate the action in a few days and then seek mediation. 'The US will no doubt grant the request and we shall be in the unpleasant position of being pressed to do so too, somewhat against our better judgement and to the accompaniment of violent objections from Australia.' Whitteridge agreed that it would be 'embarrassing' to mediate between victor and vanquished and 'to be asked to underwrite a phoney settlement with a puppet Government'. It was a

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pity that the Australians could not be left 'to fall into the Dutch mediation trap since they are so keen on playing a leading role!'237 The Australians, particularly Burton, thought inaction at the UN was prompted, not by concern about Russia, but by a desire to avoid debate affecting 'a friendly power'. Australian interests were neglected. For the same reason, Australia must be associated with any mediation.238 The Australian government, Allen concluded, might forgo its reference to the Security Council if associated with the arbitration. But that would ensure the failure of such a course with the Dutch.239 Frank AshtonGwatkin had thought the Australians might as well go ahead at the UN. If the US did not agree to intervene, someone was bound to raise the issue at the UN anyway.240 Given the lack of a positive US response on joint mediation, there was no more to say to the Australians or the Indians. And Chifley thought it essential to be involved one way or the other.241 The Western Department at the Foreign Office was concerned at the course the Far Eastern Department was following. The COS attached importance to good relations with 'our neighbours on the continent', and it would 'be highly unfortunate if we were to alienate public opinion in Holland'. Britain could hardly agree that the dispute should be brought to the UN: if the principle were established, it might be applied to Indo-China, Madagascar, or, 'worse still', French North Africa. Was it therefore necessary to take forestalling action? If the argument was that the use of British troops earlier laid 'a moral obligation on us to see that the Indonesians get a fair deal', it could be answered that Inverchapel and Killearn had mediated, and that 'the Indonesians are as much to blame as the Dutch for the present break down'. British troops helped the French in Indo-China, 'yet we have not sought to intervene in the subsequent disputes or tried to stop the fighting. If the Dutch come to think that we are picking on them because they are a small power, their resentment will be all the greater.'242 Perhaps, said Ashton-Gwatkin, 'we could and should stand aside' if the Americans rejected joint mediation.243 Given the State Department's 'unsatisfactory response' on joint mediation, Bevin indeed decided that there was 'nothing to be gained' by trying to go ahead alone. There was a suspicion that the State Department was 'not particularly distressed at the present course of events', and might have indicated to the Dutch that it would not raise strong objections to the use of force: 'they are [imbued] with the idea that the Indonesians are riddled with communism', and Foote, an old friend of Van Mook's, had 'all along been reporting how sound and wise the Dutch are'. Given the 'unsatisfactory' attitude of the Dutch, and the pressure of opinion in Britain, India and elsewhere, Bevin decided to

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recommend cutting off all military supplies and facilities to the Dutch from the Far East.244 Unable to secure any further action, Australia now decided to take the issue to the UN.245 A reluctant New Zealand agreed.246 Attlee referred to the attitude of the Ukraine and the Soviet Union early in 1946. But given that the attempt at mediation was unlikely to succeed, Britain did not wish to dissuade Australia.247 India and Australia brought the matter to the Security Council on 31 July.248 After Balfour's conversation with Lovett, the State Department drafted a statement, but it was not issued:249 there were differences of opinion, the Southeast Asia Department favouring mediation, those at higher levels not. There was no evidence that the Dutch had been encouraged to take action; but economic interests had outweighed political traditions.250 The Dutch ambassador obtained the impression, Mitcheson thought, that certain officials in Washington felt 'a good deal of sympathy with the Dutch desire for a quick settlement by force', and perhaps interpreted private remarks more strongly than was intended. In Batavia Foote openly favoured military action.251 Nevertheless, the US representative at the Security Council now said that his government had offered good offices to the Dutch. 'This may be intended to forestall action by the Security Council, but in any case it is further evidence of the thoroughly unhelpful attitude adopted by the Americans since the trouble began', Street wrote. The press said the Dutch had accepted the offer. 'This is in spite of the fact that. . . our own offer is still open. If this report is true, the whole affair looks unsavoury.'252 Killearn agreed with Mitcheson that American encouragement bore some responsibility for the outbreak of hostilities. 'This view is supported also by the alacrity with which our good offices were cast aside by the Dutch like an outworn garment when the offer of good offices came from the Americans.'253 Balfour asked the State Department for comment: how was it that the British had not been informed in advance? He was told that the President's absence at his mother's funeral had 'caused some delay in the decision on the next move'. Only late in the morning of 31 July had Marshall received Truman's authorisation to 'take whatever action seemed appropriate to the new circumstances'. Just before that Van Kleffens, the Dutch ambassador, had told the Department that his government was contemplating asking the US and possibly other governments to send an investigatory mission to Java and Sumatra, but it had been 'non-committal'. On receiving the President's message, Lovett telephoned Van Kleffens that good offices would be available as an alternative, and Herschel Johnson told the Security Council of American willingness to mediate. It seemed inevitable that the US must act alone. The Dutch had made it clear that, since two members of the

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British Commonwealth had brought the dispute to the UN, the Dutch would not think it proper to avail themselves of the good offices of the UK. 'In the circumstances', Balfour concluded, 'there seems little chance of persuading the United States Government to join with us in mediatory or arbitral measures should you be inclined to favour such a course.'254 'I have no desire to Press to be a mediator Let U.S.A. do it', Bevin wrote.255 It was news of the Indian/Australian intention to bring the matter to the Security Council that had prompted the US to act. Vincent suggested to Lovett, due to see Van Kleffens on the afternoon of 29 July, that if the matter came to the UN it would be difficult for the US to oppose the appointment of a commission to investigate or settle: the Dutch should thus consider seeking mediation from the US or the UK. The situation was like that in Indo-China. Military operations of the kind now going on in both countries seldom led to 'clear cut decision', and long guerrilla operations might weaken the European powers in Europe as well as Asia. The Dutch could not look to the US for aid to support military efforts in Indonesia.256 The Office of Near Eastern and African Affairs also felt that the US could not ignore the Indonesian cause, especially as it had been taken up by India.257 President Truman had previously declined to undertake good offices.258 Marshall put the matter to him again in the new context, and he now approved.259 Lovett contacted Van Kleffens on 31 July.260 The Dutch had already indicated that they would avail themselves of good offices from the US when the police measures were concluded 'within next few days'. The UK could not be involved, given the action of Australia and India and its own termination of equipment supplies.261 The Dutch accepted the American offer on 1 August.262 It was too soon, Foote warned: 'decent men' had to be placed in charge of the republic.263 Even so the Foreign Office were critical of US policy. 'The Americans have acted with . . . bad manners and bad faith' in making a unilateral offer to the Dutch without informing the British only a week after turning aside the suggestion of joint arbitration.264 Dening had 'little faith in American ability to use their good offices with tact and discretion. On present showing it looks as if they would bully the Indonesians to do all the Dutch want them to do. If that happens, India, Australia etc will expect us to resist this US imperialism, and we shall find ourselves in a pretty dilemma.' He did not 'trust the US at all in their Far Eastern policy'.265 H. T. Matthews admitted that the State Department was 'remiss' in not informing the UK of the offer of mediation.266 Street thought the American offer 'not disinterested'.267 It would have been quite possible to tell the British before Johnson announced it at the Security Council. 'All the same, if the Indonesians are going to put

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forward new demands the Americans may regret having made the offer.' 'Let us hope', Allen wrote, 'that we shall notbe required to play any part in negotiating the next settlement.'268 Letting the US do it was not merely a result of pique, nor even of mediation fatigue. It also reflected a larger strategy, under which the Americans must assume a larger responsibility, though Dening had doubts about that, too. The Foreign Office - particularly Street, but others too - were critical of the Dutch, as well as, perhaps less justifiably, of the US. They seemed to have things 'very much their own way at first', their troops meeting little opposition; but 'it remains to be seen whether their position is now secure or whether, by their action in resorting to force, they have set a definite term to their supremacy in the N. E. I.'269 Whatever Street feared, Schermerhorn told the British Labour attache, A. Greenhough, that he thought mediation could have been of benefit only if it preceded military action: intervention after hostilities could only strengthen the hands of the republicans and would in all probability lead to Holland's loss of Indonesia. Greenhough believed that the summary termination of Dutch influence would be a 'calamity': the Indonesians could not direct 'a sound federal Government' which Indonesia needed. Bland agreed, and thought Britain should endeavour to 'ease' the position of the Dutch and remain ready to offer good offices.270 The disappearance of the Dutch connexion would indeed be 'a serious event', Street observed, but Britain was not 'likely to prevent its occurrence by supporting the Dutch through thick and thin. Dutch supremacy in the N.E.I, will only be maintained in the long run if the Dutch make a real attempt to co-operate with the moderates in the Republic.'271 'Surely the Dutch, by their "police action" have finally ruined their chances of a peaceful settlement and are now reduced to imposing one by force?'272 'In all this', Allen wrote, 'we have to hold a difficult balance between our traditional - and necessary - friendship with Holland and the maintenance of the goodwill of the Asiatic peoples, which is certainly no less important to us.'273 At the Security Council, the British seemed more favourable to the Dutch than they in fact were and certainly added to Australia's irritation.274 The Security Council had called on the parties to cease hostilities and to settle the dispute by arbitration or other peaceful means. The British abstained, because the wording and procedure adopted were at odds with Article 2 (VII) of the charter, which precluded interference in domestic affairs.275 MacDonald, Killearn, even the Colonial Office, thought the UK's legalistic approach at the UN had given the impression that Britain was 'ganging up' with Holland and France against 'the Asiatic peoples', and obviously Britain had lost the goodwill gained by its earlier mediating efforts.276 MacDonald suggested 'a comprehensive

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statement putting our policy in its proper light'.277 At the Colonial Office J. S. Bennett did not fear 'an immediate or explosive reaction' in Malaya, but 'slow but lasting damage': the Dutch had let the side down. Article 2 (VII) was being used too legalistically.278' [W]e have made it appear that our intention was to block any effective action by Security Council', Killearn lamented.279 Both sides accepted the cease-fire. The Dutch accepted good offices. The Indonesians, however, wanted nothing but UN-sponsored arbitration.280 The US declared its offer of good offices had lapsed.281 It cautioned the Dutch against renewing military action, however.282 Only this, some thought, stopped the 'march on Yogya'.283 Short-term, Britain might benefit from Dutch control over all Java, Street suggested. But in the long term, Dutch action meant that their supremacy only had perhaps ten years more to run, 'and clearly we should be foolish to adopt an attitude in the Security Council which aligned us with the Dutch'.284 The Indonesians were 'bound to prevail' in the long run, and for that reason, and for the sake of Britain's reputation in the East and its good relations with India and Australia, 'it is essential that we should not come down conspicuously on the side of the Dutch'.285 The US - building on an earlier suggestion from the Dutch286 - now proposed that the Security Council tender its good offices.287 This was accepted, as against an Australian proposal for arbitration under the Linggadjati agreement.288 At the same time consuls on the spot were to report to the Security Council on the observation of the cease-fire.289 This the Foreign Office agreed to take part in. More reluctantly, it agreed to Bland's suggestion that the British should urge the Dutch to respond to the good offices resolution.290 It did not agree that Britain should be one of three members of the UN committee. The turn of events, as Allen put it, was 'rather startling'. The Security Council resolution provided for a committee of three to help the parties reach a settlement. Belgium was selected by the Netherlands, Australia by the Indonesians. The Indonesian premier, Amir Sjarifuddin, urged the British government to agree to be the third, and Australia supported the idea. The Indonesians hoped Killearn would be in the chair, and the Australians, 'rather curiously', wanted him as their representative 'if we do not want to use him'. Sjarifuddin's letter suggested that the republic, when recognised as a sovereign state, would seek collaboration and association with the British Commonwealth. Nehru's emissary, Patnaik, had already reported this and said 'that, if this came about, it might have such a favourable effect on India as to lead to her indefinite continuance within the Commonwealth'. Allen thought that Killearn could not take part in any case, since he was 'unpopular with the Dutch', who had earlier expressed the hope that he would not be brought in again.

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Should Britain try to keep out altogether and leave the matter to 'a neutral with . . . no possible axe to grind'? Britain's approach and others' reactions to it, had grown 'rather stale. And yet, it matters so much to us - with our great interests in Asia - what kind of a settlement is reached that I wonder whether we should be justified in standing out; and then find perhaps that others with less experience and authority had made a mess of things?' Sadly the days of the Dutch were probably numbered, moreover, 'and we must be wary of rebuffing the Indonesians to an extent which prejudices our future relations with them. It is not impossible that, like Dr Sun Yat Sen, when America and Britain rejected his advances, they might turn to Russia'. The prospects of agreement were 'extremely slim'. The Dutch were 'aiming at a state of affairs in Java and Sumatra which goes beyond what was contemplated in Linggadjati, viz: the establishment of one or more obedient puppet states on the lines of East Indonesia'. The Indonesians seemed to be thinking of an 'absolutely independent state', despite what Subandrio said. It was unlikely that the two sides would agree to an arbitral award, since the committee was supposed only to exercise good offices. 'This being so, we may not succeed in bridging this deep gulf and, in failing to do so, we should earn the resentment of both sides.' Associating with the Commonwealth could not be encouraged: it would 'arouse the bitterest suspicion and hostility on the part of the Dutch'. Even if Indonesia became independent, it would be 'a bitter and, let us hope, avoidable, blow to Dutch feelings and prestige'.291 Sjahrir made it clear that he hoped the committee of three would go beyond good offices and impose arbitration. Otherwise the Dutch would not agree to a settlement satisfactory to the Indonesians. That again pointed to 'our keeping out altogether'.292 It was 'specious talk', Sargent felt. He was certain 'that we should not again be pushed into the invidious position of arbitrating between the Dutch and the Indonesians especially in the absence of any basis on which to work'.293 Bevin agreed. Killearn was instructed accordingly.294 On 18 September it was announced that the US would be the third member.295 Subandrio had met Allen in London. He said his government would be willing to go back to Linggadjati, which Allen said Britain thought was 'the only firm ground for settlement', and he had advised Sjahrir to make a statement to that effect. Allen said that if the Dutch were to do so, 'it would be necessary for the Indonesians to meet them over the question of the joint gendarmerie'. Subandrio believed that an agreement could be reached, provided it really was joint. Allen thought that the conversation should be reported to the Dutch, suggesting that in response to their request for suggestions, they might, in responding to Sjahrir's proposed statement, admit their readiness to go back to

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Linggadjati, subject to an arrangement over the gendarmerie. The Sjahrir declaration might also include a statement on the part of the Indonesian authorities that they were determined to put down banditry.296 Frank Ashton-Gwatkin thought this 'rather promising'.297 Bland was instructed to put the idea to the Dutch. It was suggested that they might send representatives to London to meet Sjahrir, and Bevin indicated his willingness to facilitate a settlement. 'I have no wish specifically to tender my good offices. I shall merely be available to help if any assistance is required.' The US was not being informed at this point.298 While the Foreign Office retained its wish to avoid taking part in mediation, and still more arbitration, it could not resist the opportunity to seek a settlement that Subandrio's conversation seemed to offer. For UN publicity the British never cared, and though they thought the Americans should play a larger role, they did not have confidence in them. It was not that they thought the US would favour the Indonesians, rather the reverse. What they still sought was a settlement between Europeans and Asians that would be consonant with and supportive of their own approach in Southeast Asia. In that the US might have a limited role, the Russians should have none. The Foreign Office also questioned the practicability of the UN/US approach, and the ultimate failure of the Renville agreement perhaps bore out that view, though it was indeed in the event very much the result of negotiation. In the Netherlands the Labour Party had supported police action for fear that, if they abandoned the Coalition government, a right-wing government would emerge: they did, however, oppose the occupation of Yogya.299 Now - seeing that the action had 'not resulted in moderate leaders coming over to the Dutch'300 - they wanted talks with Sjahrir, and, in speaking to Vredenburch, Gage said that, whatever Van Mook thought, some in Holland favoured direct talks. The Political Director thought that the Cabinet would await Van Mook's return from the US.301 He was uncertain that Subandrio could speak for Sjahrir.302 Subandrio told Allen that Sukarno and Sjarifuddin would accept discussions, if they were 'supervised by a third party'.303 Sjahrir's line was the same. The Dutch embassy in London told the Foreign Office that Sjahrir was coming to London.304 Vredenburch told the British embassy in The Hague that P. J. Koets, director of Van Mook's cabinet, was being sent over for discussions with Sjahrir and the Dutch ambassador. They were awaiting a British move to arrange the meeting, but 'feel that it would be preferable if, having arranged the meeting, we do not participate'.305 Sjahrir arrived on 22 September. The Indian High Commissioner, Krishna Menon, gave him a lunch next day, at which Listowel, Dening, and Allen met him. He was accompanied by Agus Salim, whom Allen

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described as 'a slippery old rascal'. Sjahrir indicated that he would not be averse to negotiations with the Dutch on the basis of Linggadjati, 'but that these would have to be controlled or supervised by another Power or Powers, e.g. by the United States Government, in view of their participation in the Commission of Three'. He did not think that the Dutch had any intention of allowing the republic 'real self-government': their idea of USI was 'a group of subservient states on the lines of East Indonesia and Borneo'.306 Menon wanted to arrange a lunch at which Bevin would meet Sjahrir.307 No lunch was arranged, but Bevin saw him, and told him that the British were, as ever, anxious to see a settlement. The best solution would be to go back to Linggadjati and attempt once again to implement it. 'I said that I would be only too happy to try to arrange a meeting between the Netherlands authorities and himself if it was felt that this would be useful.' He said he was reluctant to call on the Dutch ambassador, but would be meeting representatives of the Labour Party. He seemed doubtful that any negotiations would be started until he had returned to Yogya. 'I was left with the impression of a diffident and discouraged man who was unable to speak with any firmness or clarity for his own government.'308 The Dutch ambassador had said he was ready to meet Sjahrir.309 So was Koets. Dening suggested that if both parties found it difficult to make the first approach, Koets and Sjahrir might come to lunch privately with him, or meet in his office. The ambassador was 'unresponsive', but asked the Foreign Office to let Sjahrir know he and Koets would be glad to see him. 'I really see no reason why he should be expected to make the first move . . . Equally I can understand that the Ambassador, who is very protocolaire, can hardly bring himself to call upon Mr Sjahrir. So we make no progress.' Sjahrir had, however, seen members of the Dutch Labour Party, and Whitteridge was to try to find out what passed. Dening was also seeing Koets.310 Logemann and A. M. Joekes, a member of the Second Chamber, had suggested Dutch troops be replaced by a police force responsible to the committee of three, Sjahrir told Whitteridge, but they did not say a joint police force. They had also suggested a meeting between Sjahrir and the Dutch Prime Minister. Whitteridge encouraged this, but Sjahrir feared it would 'cause difficulties in Djocja'.311 'He suspects an attempt to divide him from the other Indonesian leaders . . .'312 Whitteridge and Sjahrir discussed the committee and the former remarked that it was 'essential for both parties to put up ideas'. Sjahrir said that the main difficulty was to overcome Indonesian distrust. Whitteridge again offered communications facilities, and later Subandrio came round with a telegram to Sukarno about meeting the Dutch Prime Minister. This was sent to the new consul-general, Francis Shepherd.313 Koets and Sjahrir had met accidentally in Claridges, but

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neither was willing to take the initiative in talks. Koets told Dening 'he had only come over to assist the Ambassador in case Mr Sjahrir elected to call upon him'.314 Meeting Sjahrir at lunch again on 9 October, Bevin reiterated his willingness to play a facilitating role. He did not wish to interfere with the work of the committee of three, but was willing to help bring the parties together without publicity for an exchange of views. The Dutch were apparently 'not unready' to try for some understanding in advance of the committee, and talks might at least clear the air.315 Bevin asked Sjahrir if Linggadjati would be satisfactory. He replied that the Indonesians wanted to establish an interim government and prove their capacity to govern. Bevin also invited Sjahrir to his flat to meet 'a few Dutch people', and he said he would think it over.316 Street thought that 'the only hope of the Commission of three achieving anything is that the two sides should get together beforehand'.317 The Oxford Group - of which Bevin was suspicious - were involved in a meeting between Nehru and Sjahrir. Bevin decided that 'there is nothing more we can do for the present, though we should continue to watch the situation closely'.318 Menon's intervention was rejected by the Dutch, 'on the grounds that it was undesirable to by-pass the Three Power Commission and that Sjahrir was no longer adequately in touch with the Indonesian situation'.319 Sjahrir decided to leave London.320 In Paris Dutch agents kept a list of the films and restaurants he went to.321 The Dutch were against the committee's using Singapore as its meeting place, thanks, Allen gathered, to 'their irrational fear that Lord Killearn would somehow be mixed up with the negotiations',322 and it decided to meet on a ship.323 The Vice-Premier Setyadit and the Minister of Health called on Shepherd in Batavia. They recalled that the republic had wanted the UK as the third power on the Good Offices Committee (GOC) and said 'that they had greatly appreciated the sympathetic attitude of the United Kingdom with regard to the developments in the East particularly as regards Burma'. They had 'no experience in diplomacy. Could they come to me for advice in the course of the coming negotiations?' Shepherd said that the British could not intervene in the present conditions, but that he would consult the Foreign Office. Agus Salim and Sjahrir had some feeling for the outside world, but in a ship rather than in Singapore the republicans would feel additionally isolated, Shepherd felt. Perhaps he could indeed offer his counsel? Had Setyadit not made this approach, he would have been ready to discuss any matters they wished to raise 'in an unofficial personal manner', and the same would apply to the Dutch.324 Shepherd would have to be 'very cautious', Street thought, lest 'the Dutch think that we are intriguing with the Indonesians'. But 'we should

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not lose this valuable opportunity of giving the Indonesians some useful advice'. Perhaps Shepherd should tell Vredenburch, now in Batavia, that he intended to give advice, if asked, in his private capacity?325 Whitteridge thought, by contrast, that going to the consul-general for advice was nothing new: there was no necessity to tell Vredenburch, but it could do no harm.326 Bland thought, however, that Shepherd should be Very cautious'. Allen told Gage that the consul-general could not refuse to see the republicans, but he should keep in close touch with Vredenburch, as Gage had when he was in The Hague.327 J. E. van Hoogstraten, NEIG Director of Economic Affairs, and J. P. Bannier, Commissioner for the NEI at The Hague, called on Allen and said that, given the inexperience of the Indonesians in economic affairs, 'the proper policy for Britain was to back up the Dutch', and give the Indonesians 'salutary advice'. Allen then told them of the Shepherd telegram, 'adding that I saw no difficulty about instructing him to bring home to the Indonesians, as opportunity offered, the importance of Dutch assistance and co-operation and, in general, of adopting a moderate and statesmanlike attitude'.328 The Good Offices Committee made slow progress. 'There would seem to be little doubt that from time to time we shall be urged to return to the arena', Street wrote: 'I am sure that our participation should be confined to informal advice, when it is asked for.' 'Unless the two parties to the dispute put forward concrete suggestions, the Committee is likely to flounder on indefinitely', Whitteridge added.329 The Dutch, it seemed, were not eager to start. Street believed that they hoped to delay till the republican government disintegrated, though that 'would not necessarily mean the emergence of a regime favourable to the Dutch'. But the British should not urge them on, as Shepherd suggested. 'The Dutch would only think that we were pushing our noses into the affair again and, once out, I think we should stay out.'330 The Dutch had put nonrepublican Indonesians on their delegation, but Allen was not convinced that this would lead to agreement.331 'The Republicans would surely prefer to negotiate with the Dutch than their "turncoat" neighbours.'332 'The more I see of this, the more I think what a good thing it is that we are no longer directly involved', Dening added. 'The time may yet come when both sides want to turn to us again. Meanwhile I think we should sit quietly on the sidelines.'333 'The Dutch surely hope that progress of rehabilitation in the reoccupied areas and the possible breakdown of the negotiations will before long bring about the discrediting of the Republican regime and, finally, its collapse.'334 Allen concluded on 13 December that they thought the negotiations, now starting on the Renville, would break down, and their troops march on Yogya. 'They are also, I believe,

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counting on the fact that, preoccupied with even more sinister problems, the world is bored with the Indonesian question.'335 'Thus Dr van Mook will have achieved his objective - after so many tergiversations and the Dutch will prevail, for the short term, all along the line. In the long run I believe that, in consequence of their present policy, their role and influence in the East Indies will be swept away to a greater degree than ours in India, where we knew how to make our peace with Asiatic nationalism in good time.'336 No 'moderates' had come forward: the Dutch proceeded with their federal approach. They were now setting up other governments in East Sumatra, also in Westjava. No doubt, Street argued, the Indonesians were not yet fit to govern themselves. But 'the Dutch are making trouble for themselves in the future by trying to split Java into sections'. They could pacify the areas to be occupied; but 'it will not be long before the nationalist impulses . . . re-assert themselves in the form of an wholly antiDutch movement'.337 This was the meaning the Dutch attached to following the principles of Linggadjati, as distinct from Linggadjati itself. Vredenburch told the Americans that the republic, a 'totalitarian state', was 'only one of many groups working for independence'. The plans for a federal USI were taking shape. The areas of the states would be determined according to the democratic principles in Articles 3 and 4 of Linggadjati, 'with Republicans probably confined central Java'. The Americans pointed out that the plans were 'extraordinarily similar French views Viet Nam and plans federation'. What would prevent a duplication of the 'disastrous' situation in Indo-China? - 'devastation country and inability metropolitan power either hold on with serious drain its resources or let go without risking wholesale reprisals against elements drawn to its side'.338 Van Mook denied the similarity. In Indo-China, 'popular animosity to Europeans very strong'. The only significant antiDutch elements in Indonesia were politicians andpemuda (youth) .339 Vredenburch put the same kind of view to P. F. Grey of the Foreign Office, who visited Indonesia in December. He envisaged an interim federal government, which the republic might enter. If not, it would be left 'to stew in its own juice'.340 The Dutch would await the outcome of the negotiations 'as patiently as they can', Grey reported, but not for ever. The republican leaders were 'if anything more firmly entrenched than ever in the position they maintained prior to the police action': their physical weakness led them to emphasise their moral position. The leaders now acclaimed by the Dutch outside the republic were in their view 'nonentities'.341 Grey suggested to Sukarno that he use the support of Sumatrans and others in his own cabinet to influence Dutch-sponsored moves instead of refusing any contact with them ... If the

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Dutch-sponsored delegates held meetings of sympathisers, Sukarno delegates, who he maintained were the real leaders, could demand the right to hold meetings too. I also said that if he was right there was no need for him to despair since whatever temporary success the Dutch might have with their policy they were giving birth to movements which would eventually impose an Indonesian and not a Dutch turn on future events.

Grey took 'some risk' in so speaking, but 'felt the general situation was serious enough to warrant it'. His conclusion was that the Dutch might crush the republic 'even without much further military action. But if they do, I think they may very well end by losing altogether their connexion with Dutch East Indies.'342 Grey also spoke to Frank P. Graham, the US member of the GOC. The Dutch, he said, 'had resented past British attempts to advise and help them and now they resented (and how!), the part which he himself and the Committee of Good Offices had been cast to play . . .' He thought the British might warn the Dutch in The Hague of their 'lack of foresight'.343 But Grey doubted if 'anyone or anything can shake the Dutch in their present mood'.344 Street agreed with Grey: 'we must keep out of the business altogether.' The Dutch would resent any advice, 'and if we were to take a further hand in the game we should end by getting ourselves thoroughly disliked by both sides without having achieved anything in the way of a solution of the dispute'. The US gave no help when the British were trying to avert the conflict, he added.345 '[T]he Dutch are absolutely determined to play their own hand, and . . . it would only prejudice our relations with Holland if we were to suggest that while they may win some quick tricks they will lose the match in the long run . . ,'346 They 'are obviously hankering to beat the Indonesians up', Dening commented, 'while the latter are displaying their usual lack of sense and failure to grasp the realities of the situation'. The prospects were 'gloomy. We should avoid entanglement if we can.'347 This view he sustained when the Australians suggested that the UK and the US should remind the Dutch of their obligations under the cease-fire, and pointed out that the presence of Van Mook and Spoor was a hindrance to progress.348 The Australians got themselves into this mess, Dening observed, and now hope 'that we will get them out of it'. But the British should remain in the background. Tf all else fails, and the Dutch and the Indonesians were to approach us again (I very much doubt if the former will), then we might consider the position afresh.' Any attempts 'to throw our weight about at The Hague' would arouse resentment.349 Bevin wanted to see Michiels once more, but Dening counselled against that.350 Noel-Baker and Bevin agreed to do nothing in the meantime.351

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Inverchapel discussed Indonesia at the State Department on the basis of Grey's telegrams. He was told that 'at this stage' the US 'had no intention of offering advice either Dutch or Indonesians'.352 'The US Government have consistently sought to take no action and, were we thinking of taking a further hand in the game, we could certainly not count on American co-operation.'353 Bevin talked to Marshall, but got 'no change', as Street put it. Bevin said he was thinking of talking to the Dutch, 'but he doubted whether this was much good unless both the Americans and ourselves spoke to them'. The Dutch might break the republic, but that would mean unrest and guerrilla fighting as in China. 'He wanted to make an effort to bring Sjahrir and the Moderates back in Indonesia and so get a settlement. . . He wanted to bring this great area of South East Asia, impinging upon India and Ceylon, out of turmoil. Today there was only trouble in Indonesia . . . It was true that Burma had left the Commonwealth, but the Treaty was a good Treaty, and since it had been accepted willingly, Anglo-Burmese relations might be better now than if Burma had stayed within the Commonwealth.' One-and-ahalf-million tons of rice from Burma made it possible to raise the Malay ration. But Marshall added nothing to his statement that Graham was 'a good man'.354 Grey called on Baron Bentinck in The Hague, but appeared to make no impression. The Dutch and the committee, he said, were 'in danger of getting completely at cross purposes'. He felt that the Dutch approach was 'mistaken': 'by ignoring the Republicans they were ignoring the movement which was the primary symbol of nationalism in Indonesia.' In any case, 'there was the further point that the Dutch could not ignore the work of the Committee of Good Offices without creating a situation in the Security Council where the British and possibly the American Governments might have to pronounce for or against the Dutch more definitely than they have hitherto done'. Grey stressed, too, that the Dutch and the British should pursue a 'common objective' in Southeast Asia as elsewhere. Bentinck did not see how this could be attained. 'The Dutch understand that the policies which we have pursued in India, Burma and elsewhere, combined with our interest in retaining the support of public opinion in these and other countries in South East Asia, led us to believe that the Dutch approach to the Indonesian problem was on the wrong lines.' But the Dutch doubted if Britain's experiments in India and Burma were 'wise', and in any case, 'temperamentally and constitutionally', could not adopt precisely the same policy.355 Bland thought Britain might urge that the Dutch be 'magnanimous'.356 The Foreign Office determined to await reactions to the GOC's Christmas demarche.357

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Shepherd had in fact been urging moderation on both sides. He told Drees - one of the Dutch ministers visiting Indonesia - that suppressing the republic would lead to an underground movement.358 He advised Sjarifuddin 'not to be too unyielding. It would be better to face realities and make concessions for the sake of a general settlement than to maintain an intransigence that would lead to disaster. It might be a good thing to "reculer pour mieux sauter'V Sjarifuddin received the remarks with 'his usual non-committal smile'.359 Perhaps the remarks were misinterpreted. According to the Australians, the republicans had the impression that Grey wanted them to accept Dutch terms.360 The GOC had put proposals to the parties. This approach the Australians had advocated. Burton had contemplated replacing Linggadjati with something on the basis of the US-Philippines treaty: the Dutch should follow 'the British technique, which has met with such success', and offer independence subject to certain agreements.361 T. K. Critchley, the acting Australian representative, took the idea up in developing a basis for settlement, to be put to Graham.362 After substantial discussion, the GOC adopted a programme covering the need both to implement the still controverted cease-fire and to provide for the political future.363 Good offices had not sufficed. Moutet and Bollaert

Bevin had curiously omitted French Indo-China from his discussion with Marshall in December 1947. There, indeed, the situation was not stable, and the French had not followed the British example. The US had itself pointed out to the Dutch the risk that their policy would bring about in Indonesia the problems that French policy had produced in Vietnam. The two colonial powers were themselves aware of the comparisons, as they had been in 1946. A conversation with Paris, a member of the French embassy, on 1 August 1947, showed Dening that the French were 'not excessively sympathetic with the Dutch for having resorted to force and for thus having created the issue before the Security Council which is bound to place France in a dilemma . . ,'364 In the event France used its veto to block a Russian resolution that the committee of three should supervise the cease-fire in Indonesia. 'This action hardly suggests that the new French proposals for Indo-China are likely to be startlingly liberal.'365 The British were indeed anxious that both powers should follow their example, which had so far seemed successful, and thus put East-West relations in general, and Europe-Asia relations in particular, on a progressive footing. But the policy they adopted towards the French differed from the policy they adopted towards the Dutch, as the latter were aware. They had initially helped the French more, and they

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thereafter intervened less. European factors affected Britain's treatment of both the Dutch and the French, but the French were more significant, and perhaps even more difficult to handle. In a blander than Bland despatch from Paris at the end of 1946, Duff Cooper suggested that Vietnam had precipitated the crisis when France was going through 'a period of governmental confusion'.366 It might equally be argued, Anderson suggested, 'that the semi-permanent state of confusion in which the French Government has been for the past few months is the cause and not the occasion of the crisis'. Sainteny and Sal an were removed; there were rumours that d'Argenlieu did not have the confidence of Paris; and Morliere and Valluy were left in charge. Ho Chi Minh might also have concluded that he could not rely on the backing of communists and socialists in France - as he had hoped in March and September - and that the local authorities would be given a free hand. In Burma, parties were being organised to help the Vietnamese;367 in India, Nehru attacked the French; and the Indonesians were 'growing restive because they fear that the Dutch will use the same strong methods against them as the French are using in Indo-China'. That gave the British an interest in an early restoration of order. French military action might do that, but not effect a permanent settlement, 'and it would certainly seem preferable from our point of view if they were to reopen early negotiations with the Viet Nam'. The French hoped to negotiate with leaders other than Ho Chi Minh, but that was not likely to succeed. 'It might be possible to point out to the French that we for our part have not hesitated to negotiate with Aung San and with the Indian leaders, that the Dutch found it preferable in the long run to treat with Sjahrir and Sukarno, and that in the Philippines those who were political leaders under the Japanese go unmolested. . .'368 Whitteridge said recent reports from Saigon and Paris spoke of Ho Chi Minh as 'a prisoner of the extremists. This is probably untrue, but it may reflect a French desire to keep the door ajar . . .'369 Like the Dutch, the French had difficulty in adjusting their colonial policy to the requirements of the post-war world. Before the end of the war, they had envisaged a French Union, and it was in that context that the March accord was negotiated. As the war receded, they became less concerned about intervention by the UN, the US, or China, and less liberal about interpreting the Free French principles. Some Vietnamese were 'determined to shake off French rule', Anderson wrote, and cooperation was compromised by acts of terrorism. But the situation deteriorated with the application of the modus vivendi, with changes in French personnel and with renewed influence on the part of French settlers. Prolonged fighting would 'endanger the stability of South East Asia, in which we are interested for strategic and commercial reasons'.

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The use of British equipment, and the transit of French reinforcements and supplies through territories under British control, would earn the British 'some odium', while the French would not believe Britain could not curb anti-French activities in Burma and India.370 'The time may come when awkward questions will be asked in Parliament', Dening added, 'and we shall be torn between the obvious need to maintain close friendship with France in Europe and the equal necessity, in our weak economic and military position in S.E. Asia, to avoid taking sides in a racial conflict against the nationalist movements of that area'. In the meantime, there was nothing to be done.371 Blum's speech of 22 December 1946 had justified the use of force in order to re-establish order. His successors expanded the commitment 'by a series of comparatively smaller steps'.372 The French government neither declared war, nor definitively rejected negotiations: it 'could never bring itself to formulate such a clear and coherent policy. Instead French Indochina policy, as it had [been] from the beginning, was inexorably constructed from a series of small actions.'373 Moutet added some. His mission, he declared, was one of peace but, like Dutch ministers, he changed his views when he arrived in Asia. There must be a 'military decision'. That, however, was not necessarily re-conquest: he hoped for 'political results', for a 'reversal of climate', thrusting the native masses back towards the French authorities, causing 'personalities to come forth with whom those authorities will be able to speak'.374 This was a Van Mook-ish policy, one that those in the Far Eastern Department of the British Foreign Office would have rightly discounted as outdated. Moutet rejected Ho Chi Minh's offers to meet him: those really in power did not want an accord.375 Again, that might not mean an entire rejection of Ho Chi Minh: like Sjahrir, however, he would have to be disembarrassed of those who were more extreme. The illusion was that French action would diminish the hold of extremists, nationalist or otherwise: in fact it would increase it. And were there moderates in IndoChina in any case? - even as many as in Indonesia? Moutet's speeches supported Le Van Hoach, president of the CochinChina government, though the latter found various French services reluctant to hand over authority. Meiklereid thought that d'Argenlieu was 'fairly well set in the saddle', and that his policy would combine consolidation in the south with the setting-up of a puppet government in the north.376 Visiting Southeast Asia, Allen met d'Argenlieu. The French, he found, were 'touchingly grateful for our help in restoring the territory to them. It seems quite to have healed the Syrian blister.' Allen did not ask to go to Hanoi, 'in order to avoid giving them the slightest ground for suspicion after the flutter caused by Abbot Moffat's visit there'.377

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Allen also met Moffat in Singapore. He was anxious that the UK and US should impose some kind of mediation. Charles Reed, the consulgeneral, 'a sensible man', did not 'share the doctrinaire impulses of his chief, but agreed with the Foreign Office's view 'that any such intervention would only awaken strongest French resentment and drive them to be harsher still with the Vietnamese'.378 Killearn had the same view of Moffat's approach. The latter 'believed the French were heading for disaster' and was 'most apprehensive as to the consequent reaction throughout the whole area and especially in Java'. The State Department, however, had been 'lukewarm so far'. The French, Killearn told him, were 'always very touchy at any suggestion of outside interference - compare their attitude over their recent troubles with Siam': any suggestion of good offices should come from them, 'just as had been the case with the Dutch and us over Java. He pointed out that the cases were quite different, seeing that we had had troops in the Netherlands East Indies and a special position there. He could hardly see the French taking the initiative . . ,'379 In fact the French shifted some ground and the US made some comment. With the election of President Auriol, the Blum government resigned and was replaced by another coalition government under Paul Ramadier. In his investiture speech, Ramadier declared: 'We have not desired this war, and we still do not want it.' At the same time he acknowledged the sacrifices of French soldiers, and Thorez and the Communists applauded.380 Jean Chauvel of the French Foreign Office told the British that the military were coping, but time pressed, and 'the continuance of the present situation was liable to produce effects elsewhere in the French Empire'. Ho Chi Minh had broadcast a peace feeler, but it was not clear whether he 'still really represented anything' in Vietnam. There were no alternative persons to negotiate with. 'Here again the difficulty was the lack of time which prevented the French authorities on the spot from building up an alternative Viet Namese administration.'381 Louis de Guiringaud of the French embassy in London told Anderson that, 'while the gist of the Moutet report', which he had just received, 'was that France had neither the financial means, the manpower, nor the intention of waging a long colonial war in IndoChina, there was no alternative to the present military operations, whose temporary nature was emphasised. It was hoped that the absence of outside support coupled with the effect upon them of their heavy losses would make the Viet Nam leaders see reason and that it would then be possible to patch up some agreement with the moderate elements.'382 The Times correspondent, Davidson, signalled a shift in Paris. D'Argenlieu 'had failed either to win over the less revolutionary wing of the Viet Minh or to find other responsible Annamese who might be

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willing to form an alternative government to that of Ho Chi Minh'. A change of high commissioner was 'inevitable'. Only the extreme right wing would fight a long and costly colonial war. Now it seemed the government would 'initiate a new and conciliatory policy', and d'Argenlieu would be replaced.383 Cooper reported that the recall had been decided on, and that 'a more conciliatory attitude' would be adopted in IndoChina.384 The Times correspondent got his information from the son of the Prime Minister, Ramadier. Davidson thought that Moutet's 'show of firmness' in Saigon and Blum's in Paris were 'part of an attempt to split the left and right wing elements within the Viet-Nam'. The French were 'flirting' with Bao Dai, the embassy noted. But the younger Ramadier 'said that when French officers recently called on the ex-Empress, who lives in exile in Paris, she had received them graciously but had gravely disappointed them by sitting at the piano and playing the Viet-Nam National Anthem'.385 The 'flirting' was, of course, a Saigon policy in origin. While Paris was not prepared for a long war, and was moving towards dropping d'Argenlieu, it was not, however, pursuing further talks with Ho Chi Minh. While the US did not adopt Moffat's policy, it went further with Ramadier than with Blum. The State Department was anxious to help France 'to restore herself as in fact one of major powers of world', and 'fully recognized France's sovereign position in Indo-China'. But a 'dangerously outmoded colonial outlook' continued, especially in Saigon, while Ho Chi Minh had 'direct communist connections', and the US did not of course want 'colonial empire administrations supplanted by philosophy and political organizations emanating from and controlled by Kremlin'. The situation might be brought to the Security Council, and 'we would find it difficult to oppose an investigation Indochinese problem unless negotiations between parties were going on'. The State Department hoped 'that French will find it possible to be more than generous in trying to find a solution'.386 The British Foreign Office welcomed the State Department's representations. They might 'lend impetus' to the 'apparent trend' to resume negotiations. But it would not follow the American example: 'French still suspicious of British policy as witness what happened in Syria.'387 The Prime Minister did, however, rule that shipments of arms and ammunition should not go direct from Singapore to Indo-China, though they might go to metropolitan France. Extending this to the additional aviation and motor fuel the French sought was ruled out as impractical. Cutting it out altogether was impossible: it would 'kill the Anglo-French treaty'.388 The ban on arms supplies was not revealed to the French.389 On 6 March Ramadier announced that Emile Bollaert would become High Commissioner. The military situation was favourable, and the task

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was constitutional and political, he declared. He still spoke of an IndoChina federation, and of a French Union where France directed diplomacy and defence.390 Debate in the Assembly was preceded by the announcement on 11 March of US military aid to Greece and Turkey, which sharpened the tensions within the tripartite government.391 Most of the Communists abstained from the vote approving the government's Indo-China policy.392 They were shortly to be forced out of the government over a domestic issue. So far they had tended to approve the IndoChina policy. Now they increasingly coincided with Soviet policy, also shifting, though for different reasons. Bollaert sent Paul Mus to Hanoi. The terms the French offered were unacceptable: a cessation of all acts of hostility; turning over part of the republic's arms; free circulation of French troops. Moreover, Ho Chi Minh could negotiate only as head of a party, not as head of a state.393 In Paris, Baudet told Clarke that the French had hoped to group 'some more acceptable elements' round Ho Chi Minh. His refusal of military guarantees meant 'some other elements' must be found, but 'there was nothing sufficiently important at present which would fill the bill'. Clarke asked about Bao Dai. 'Baudet said that perhaps something could be done with him in respect of Annam itself, but the French Government desired to avoid at all costs creating the impression that they were re-imposing the Emperor on the country.' He thought 'that the present situation might drag on for a very long time', and that there was some ground for Ho Chi Minh's calculation 'that the force of events and public opinion in other parts of the world would operate in the long run on the side of the Viet Minh'. Baudet had misgivings about the Indies, 'where he considered that the Dutch were finding themselves caught in the same sort of dilemma as the French had been in Indo-China'.394 From Saigon the acting consul-general, F. H. Crowther, suggested that, while the French originally intended to 'try the effect' on Ho Chi Minh's attitude of signs of the possible emergence of a rival regime, now they were considering that prospect 'in all seriousness'.395 Mus indeed went off to see Bao Dai.396 Street thought the French would be 'very foolish' if they tried to 'inflict' him on the Vietnamese.397 'I cannot imagine that any Annamite party other than monarchist faction would want him back.'398 'In view of the characteristically Communist nature of Ho Chi Minh's regime', Allen thought it 'definitely to our interest that the French should if possible find some other elements among the Annamites on which they can build.' But that was 'going to be difficult'.399 Restoring the empire would cost the French the goodwill of the Cochin-China leaders, Street pointed out. 'I should have thought it would have been better to wait until increasing shortage of food in the North drives the Viet-Minh to reduce their demands. But the French

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may very well think that, with a perilous economy at home, they cannot afford to waste time in so reorganising Indo-China that it can at least pay for itself.'400 Earlier in the year, representatives of Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam had met in Bangkok and signed a memorandum urging UN and US intervention in Indo-China and supporting a federation of Southeast Asia.401 Later the French seemed themselves interested in the idea, but only in connection with economic and cultural matters.402 Late in June, however, Baudet spoke to Francis Stuart of the Australian legation in Paris of a 'fairly loose grouping': 'the idea would be to bring about an end to the disorder in Indo-China on the basis of proposals for such a regional grouping of States guaranteed by some of the major powers.'403 Perhaps this was a ballon d'essai, Street thought, but it might be 'a serious attempt by the French Government to devise a Far Eastern policy acceptable to all shades of French opinion'.404 A Delhi report indicated that the Siamese premier had proposed a union during the recent Franco-Thai border discussions.405'. . . there is something in the wind', it was thought,406 but no decision emerged. After visiting Paris, Bollaert planned to make a statement on 15 August, a date chosen because it marked the inauguration of the Dominion of India, 'which, he is led to believe, will produce a favourable reaction on the part of Viet Nam Party leaders'.407 His statement was postponed, and Bollaert returned to Paris.408 Perhaps, Street thought, the Security Council debate on Indonesia had persuaded the French to take a more liberal line on Indo-China: 'they are annoyed with the Dutch for having taken action which inevitably causes comparisons to be made with I.C.'409 Ramadier told Clarke he could see several solutions, all of them bad. Baudet said the ministers were divided, and alluded again to 'the possibility of a solution whereby Indo-China was grouped with other countries in South East Asia under the guarantee of several powers', and also spoke of mediation.410 '. . . the progress of the Indonesian discussion in the Security Council should have given the French Government the clearest indication of the line they must take', Street wrote severely. 'A minor loss of face now would surely be preferable to the appearance at Lake Success later of President Ho-Chi-Minh.'411 The delay in making the speech apparently resulted from Valluy's opposition to Bollaert's plan to offer independence for a cease-fire. Back from Paris, he made a speech at Hadong on 10 September. In this the word 'cease-fire' did not appear, and independence was within the Union. Diplomacy and defence, he said, were matters for the Union, but he indicated that the union of the three ky was a matter for the people themselves to decide.412 It was not expected that Ho Chi Minh could negotiate on these lines. There was more chance that Bao Dai would, but

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that would belie 'his vaunted desire achieve independence for his people'.413 The French were continuing their divide-and-rule policy; they now offered less than on 6 March 1946, Frank Gibbs thought.414 At the Foreign Office A. M. Palliser believed that the French were 'preparing the way for a declaration that Bao Dai has the support of the masses, and that the Viet Minh are simply a gang of terrorists'. That would not convince the left wing in France, nor the rest of the world, 'and unless the French tread carefully they may well find themselves facing the same unwelcome glare of publicity as the Dutch in Indonesia'.415 A campaign, it seemed, was being prepared for the autumn.416 Such, the State Department told Caffery, would have an effect on US opinion, which would be reflected in a Congress called upon to consider aid for western Europe, including France.417 The French Foreign Office said it knew of no plans for a military offensive.418 O'Sullivan in Hanoi reported that the military thought that a campaign could at least close the Chinese frontier and disrupt the Vietnam government.419 A mixture of force and diplomacy seemed to be contemplated: but was the mix right? 'The French are banking on Bao Dai and they must contrive that he has some support from the people before they start their new campaign against Ho-Chi-Minh', Street wrote: '. . . if the French start a new offensive without coming to an agreement with Bao Dai, they are asking for trouble: but in order to secure his services they must offer substantial concessions.'420 In fact large-scale military operations, the Viet Bac campaign, began in the delta on 8 October 1947.421 Bao Dai, Street thought, would 'maintain a studied silence until he knows what success the French attack is having. The French are clearly banking on a quick success in the hope that Bao Dai will decide to return to a relatively pacified country. I think that it is very doubtful whether he would do so without exacting from the French a promise of a far more liberal policy in the future.' Now it was possible that some country would bring the dispute to the Security Council. France had been 'extremely lucky' to avoid the UN so far, but, 'with so many eyes on South-East Asia as a result of the Indonesian dispute', the luck was likely to run out. That would be a disaster for the British. 'Our attitude in the debates on Indonesia caused a great deal of criticism in South-East Asia, and by our standpoint in the case of IndoChina we are likely to frame our relations with the peoples of Asia for a considerable time to come.' But if Britain's public attitude contained 'even an implied criticism of French policy, we should lose much, if not all, of the goodwill which France bears us and which, in the condition of Europe at the moment, is so vital a factor.' French policy had been 'vacillating', and was now 'disastrous'. Allen again rather differed. He thought Street 'a little sweeping', insofar as the Viet Minh regime could

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be regarded as 'an outpost of Communism', and it had been Britain's policy - 'in the interests of our relations with France' - to support the restoration of French authority in Indo-China. Fortunately, Dening observed, the military operations had 'attracted very little attention internationally so far'.422 Within the Foreign Office there was clearly now some variance of opinion over Ho Chi Minh. The events of 1947 - in Indo-China but also in the world at large - reduced the readiness to see him as primarily a nationalist with whom it ought to be possible to negotiate. No alternative was, however, clear. Indeed, it could be argued that French attempts to establish Bao Dai and to remove popular support from Ho Chi Minh could only increase the latter's influence and determination to destroy French rule.423 The State Department generally agreed with the Foreign Office analysis. There was no need for instructions from Moscow to induce the Vietnamese communists to identify with nationalist aims. Differences would emerge if the groups were 'confronted with problems of constructive social and economic policy rather than with problems of common defence against the French'. Then events might take a course similar to those in Burma.424 That was Landon's line, though Woodruff Wallner of the Western European Affairs Division commented that, while Ho Chi Minh might not manage to set up a communist state, 'it is one hell of a big chance to take'.425 The point was academic, Street commented: 'France will never leave Indo-China unless she is ejected by force.' His colleague, Peter Murray, rejected the Burma analogy. There the communists, unlike Ho Chi Minh, had only 'the foggiest idea of Communist ideology'. There, too, there was 'a relatively powerful Moderate Nationalist party', which had shown 'a considerable degree of moderation and statesmanship in the last year'. The party existed because the British were willing to transfer power. It was doubtful whether, if France offered independence, a similar party would arise in Indo-China. 'Self-government in Burma is not a recent growth, but one which the British have sedulously fostered since 1923 at least.'426 The State Department perhaps hoped that, though communists might lead Vietnam to independence, they would not remain dominant, and Vietnam would not, as Reed feared, be totalitarian.427 But the analogy with Burma was indeed false. The French had themselves destroyed any basis for moderate nationalism and were still reluctant to offer or implement concessions. The State Department, lacking options, and affected by the advocacy of William C. Bullitt, sent to France and to East Asia by President Truman in the fall of 1947,428 was finally to adopt the Bao Dai line. And the Foreign Office was to follow suit.

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Valluy, Gibbs reported late in November, had hoped that the military operations in Tonkin would have been followed by 'decisive political action', but that had not 'materialised owing to the fact that Vietminh have not been brought to heel'. The French had 'burnt their boats', Street commented, but did not have the strength to 'complete the rout' of the Viet Minh.429 The fall of the Ramadier government, added to the Bollaert mission, encouraged the French to press ahead with the Bao Dai experiment. Bollaert met the emperor on a French warship in the Baie d'Along and signed a protocol on 7 December.430 Gibbs had not expected it. Street was surprised, since Bao Dai had apparently wrung no concessions from the French, the protocol being, as Allen pointed out, more restrictive than that of March 1946, more like, indeed, the offer of September 1947. 'I am not sure the move to set up the Emperor Bao Dai is a good one', Dening observed, 'if, as I imagine, he has failed to secure any general support from the left wing. But I suppose that the French despair of coming to an agreement with Ho Chi Minh's followers.'431 The agreement, Street thought, was 'unlikely to bring peace to IndoChina: it is more likely to split the population into pro-French and antiFrench divisions'.432 The return of Pibun The coup in Siam in November 1947 caused the French concern. 'Immediate prospects depend very much on whether an attempt is made . . . to oust the government which seized power', Street wrote. Information suggested that a communist-led left-wing group intended to precipitate a civil war in Siam. 'If such an attempt were successful, the French position in Indo-China would be seriously weakened.' Allen did not think that was necessarily so. 'It would however necessarily to some extent be endangered by the emergence of a strong nationalist Government in Siam, as Marshal Pibun's may once again become.'433 The rice requirement had contributed to the weakness and corruption of the government with which Britain wanted to work, and the erosion of the position of Pridi, Pibun's wartime rival. The death of the king was a further embarrassment to Pridi and his allies, while the military, weakened by civilian government, could also turn Thai nationalism to account, provoked, as it also was, by the retrocession of French territory in Cambodia and Laos.434 Some of them looked to the former leader, and so, too, did the conservative-royalist clique led by Khuang Aphaiwong.435 Receiving Prince Wan as ambassador in March 1947, President Truman referred to the 'internal stability of a democratic Siam' and its

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need for a strong leader. Radical papers complained that the US should not support Pibun. Pibun himself announced his intention of returning to politics. His Right is Might party emphasised preserving the dynasty, free elections, freedom of the press, cooperation with the UN.436 The British ambassador, Geoffrey Thompson, spoke to Thawan Thamrongnawasawat, the Prime Minister, about Pibun's campaign: the British had not fought the war in order to witness a fascist regime in Siam headed by an arch-collaborator; it was 'an insult to the intelligence of the outside world for the Marshal to prate about his attachment to democracy'.437 Thompson issued a statement: the British Information Services (BIS) could not comment on Siamese politics; but it was not forgotten that under Pibun Siam had declared war on the UK and the US.438 At the Foreign Office in London, Anderson was concerned at the prospect of 'a reversion to dictatorship'.439 An ultranationalist regime of the type Pibun was expected to lead would have repercussions on British interests in Siam, and in Southeast Asia in general. The settlement of war damage claims would be delayed; there would be discrimination against British enterprises; the rice procurement scheme, only now beginning to produce an adequate flow, would be disrupted at least temporarily, thereby retarding the rehabilitation and menacing the political stability of Southeast Asia; plans to influence the Siamese armed forces would be hampered; expansionism would produce tension and probably break off the Franco-Siamese boundary negotiations.440 Noting that the US ambassador, Edwin Stan ton, had also spoken to Thamrong, Allen suggested that the US and the UK make 'some more formal approach', and perhaps give some publicity to their views.441 Dening thought that the State Department should be consulted first, 'for I do not suppose that we would wish to go further than they are prepared to do'.442 The latest information, Moffat said, was 'that Pibun had already come to the conclusion that he could not at this moment stage a comeback'. His former newspaper had more or less indicated this after drawing attention to the 'vigorous' BIS statement. Moffat was not yet convinced, however, that he had withdrawn completely, but the State Department did not wish to put in an official communication at this point.443 After talking to Pridi, Stanton suggested to the State Department that Thompson and he write personal notes to the Prime Minister, drawing attention to the unfortunate effect on Siam's relations with the UK and the US that any re-entry of Pibun into politics at this time would produce.444 Anderson suggested joint and official representations. British business interests were holding back. 'A joint Anglo-American statement should help the Siamese politicians and public to take a more realistic view of the situation, thereby promoting political stability which

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will enable normal trade to be resumed. Political stability is also most desirable from the point of view of rice exports.' The State Department preferred parallel representations over joint ones, Whitteridge pointed out.445 Inverchapel was instructed to suggest them in Washington.446 In fact Stanton spoke to the Prime Minister, and Moffat preferred that. Pibun might use a written communication 'to show that we were still using the old form of pressure. Also, added Moffat, what would be the procedure if Pibun did nevertheless come into power in the near future'?447 'There is force in Mr Moffat's argument that we should avoid giving Siam a written document which might prove awkward for us later', Anderson agreed.448 Thompson was more suspicious. The Americans' 'darling ambition' was that the Democrats, led by Khuang and Seni Pramoj, ambassador in Washington during the war, should form a government, 'and my impression is that the Americans would regard the presence of Pibun in a coalition Cabinet formed with the help of his supporters as a cheap price to pay for what is assumed would be a very pro-American administration'. The danger was 'that the ex-dictator is not a man to remain quiescent in a subordinate position'.449 'One thing which impresses - and depresses - me', Lord Killearn, Britain's Special Commissioner in Southeast Asia, wrote in August, 'is the seeming attitude at home towards the Siamese. True, they took the wrong turning and are an ex-enemy State. But I regard that as a very short-sighted policy for us to follow now. Surely we should do our utmost to help them recuperate and get back on their feet? For, properly and wisely handled, Siam ought to be an asset of great potential value to us in these critical post-war years.' Thompson was 'very despairing' at the lack of response in London to what he proposed.450 The Foreign Office, Allen commented, had 'always espoused his point of view' and tried 'to cure other departments of any tendency to treat Siam as an ex-enemy'. Those departments included the Treasury, 'at times . . . obstinate over allowing the Siamese to get a fair price for their rice', and Trading with the Enemy Department, 'rather slow and stubborn over the unfreezing of Siamese assets'. There was 'still rather a habit of mind in Government departments here, which ought to be gradually eradicated, to treat Siam as a very small and unimportant country, more or less in our pocket, and with a good deal to live down'.451 The British had continued to adjust their rice policy, however, and the entire termination of the delivery ensued on 31 August 1947, by which time 300,000 tons had been secured. 'There is the psychological feeling', Thompson reported, 'that Siam has at last emerged from a position of inferiority'.452 The coup even so followed in November. 'Excellency . . . they have kick me out', Stanton reported Thamrong as saying.453 Pibun persuaded

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Luang Adun, the Army Commander-in-Chief, not to oppose, and secured approval from Prince Rangsit and the Council of Regency for the coup and the new constitution.454 Though he had been suspicious of the Americans, the British ambassador thought his government should keep in step with the US. Stanton was inclined to think the State Department would not react favourably to the return of Pibun. 'I think Pibun will probably do all he can to placate the Anglo-Saxon powers, but only time can show how he intends to behave. I would not favour any precipitancy in granting him recognition.' But he might well consolidate his position, 'presenting us with an enduring fait accompli', so that it would be desirable 'to avoid any undue denunciation'.455 Pibun indicated that his government would confirm its treaty obligations. Thompson told his emissary his return would be 'a shock to opinion in Britain and America' .456 If, as it appeared, the coup was backed by the Princess Mother, Allen noted, 'it behoves us to be doubly careful in condemning it - since one of its consequences may be something we have all along hoped for, namely the return of the young king . . . to Siam, his absence having been a serious factor in the instability of the country during the last eighteen months'. Possibly, too, there would be 'a general tightening-up of the administration with an increase in exports of rice'. It was, however, 'disquieting' to have in power a man who was nearly tried as a war criminal, and had been no friend of Britain. Possibly Washington would favour recognition, in view of the anti-communist complexion of the movement, and Khuang's pro-American views.457 The Foreign Office sought the State Department's views.458 Thompson had reported that Khuang was the new Prime Minister, Seni Pramoj Justice Minister, Wiwat Finance.459 Civil war seemed, however, to threaten. Allen thought that the 'worst possible solution. From our point of view (e.g. export of rice), it would almost be better for Siam to have an authoritarian but comparatively efficient and stable government under a man we dislike than a period of chaos while the more liberal elements are fighting the more reactionary ones.'460 Palliser, however, thought that Pridi would probably not turn to civil war. 'Civil war is, of course, the last thing we want. If only the change had been a more constitutional one, I don't think we could have had much cause for complaint in the new appointments . . .' Pibun's reputation 'militates against our easy acceptance of his regime in spite of his assurances to respect all foreign interests'. The approach would be more right-wing, more nationalistic, probably more pro-American. But Palliser thought Britain would soon have to recognise the new regime.461 Britain must not 'be in a hurry' and must concert action with the US, but 'we shall have to come to terms' with the new government.462

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'We must go slowly and with great care or there will be a long time of civil war', Ernest Bevin, the Foreign Secretary, wrote.463 Thompson's very attempts to avoid victimisation of the previous government suggested his acceptance of the coup.464 What was at issue was the role of Pibun. Keeping in step with the US was important, too. But Stanton, while appearing indeed to accept the coup, also seemed, despite Thompson's earlier comments, to oppose Pibun's involvement in the new regime. Stanton suggested to Thompson that the US and the UK might state that, before reaching a decision on recognition, they would need to be satisfied that Pibun had withdrawn from the direction of affairs: it would strengthen Khuang's hand. Thompson thought it premature. While civil war threatened, the government could not dispense with Pibun. A statement would, moreover, be resented by the regime and by 'a large section of the public', while it might encourage the late government and the Free Siamese to resort to force. 'This was exactly what we wished to avoid.'465 The two ambassadors helped Pridi, perhaps nervous over 'revelations' about the king's death, to leave the country in what Palliser called 'the approved Philips Oppenheim manner . . . Mr Thompson seems rather thankfully to have washed his hands of him.'466 French anxiety about renewed pan-Thai imperialism, adding to their problems in Indo-China, Thompson considered 'greatly exaggerated': the French minister had received the same assurances as the British and the American. The coup of the 'military Royalists and Democrats', he added, was inspired by internal conditions - suspicions over the king's death, fear of well-armed Free Thai, 'a dread of possible Communism', anger over corruption, 'complete failure to understand the economic problems of the day' - and not by Siamese imperialism. 'To me the main consideration is whether or not the provisional Government are in a position to maintain order and govern the country.' The exit of the senior statesman greatly improved its chances. If the situation continued to improve, de facto recognition might be offered, pending the result of the proposed elections, due in three months' time.467 'Mr Thompson is becoming increasingly favourable towards the new regime', Palliser observed.468 Down in Singapore H. N. Brain at the Special Commissioner's Office suggested that Pridi make a statement denying involvement in the king's death. This he did.469 He also made a statement opposing violence.470 According to Thompson, the headquarters of the Free Thai movement wanted one.471 He agreed to make a broadcast, too.472 The Governors of Singapore and Malaya wanted Pridi to move on. John Dalley of the Security Service thought he might stimulate communist activity. Killearn suggested playing for time, until the situation in Siam was clarified and Britain's attitude to the usurping government decided. 'I naturally did

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not fail to make the point that as "Ruth" there could be no question of refusing asylum anywhere. . . There was also the angle "casting your bread upon the waters".'473 Sympathy and a sense of obligation affected Britain's handling of Pridi, its wartime ally; so, too, did its concern for stability in Siam and anxiety about communism in Malaya. The French government now suggested that the US, the UK and France should issue a statement indicating that the three governments were closely following political developments since the coup, and maintaining close contact 'with a view to adopting a common attitude in this question'. The Foreign Office were ready for this, or, if the US would not take part, for a statement on Britain's part in the House of Commons.474 Neither Stanton nor Thompson favoured a tripartite statement: it might create 'the sort of national feeling that has . . . considerably strengthened Franco in his hold on Spain'. A statement in parliament would be acceptable, but it should omit the words about a common attitude, as the French attitude was 'rather exaggerated'. Pridi's appeal for peace had been featured in the press, and the present regime might thus settle more firmly in the saddle. Then de facto recognition could follow, for there was a risk that the Cabinet might grow 'utterly discouraged and disintegrate, leaving the way clear for Pibun and his fellow militarists to take over entirely'.475 'We shall find it difficult to strike a balance between over-encouraging Pibun by early de facto recognition and discouraging Khuang and his associates by a failure to recognise.'476 The fact that there was no civil war might indeed mean that Pibun was less necessary, but it did not mean he would drop out. By discouraging civil war the UK and the US had not discouraged his aspirations. The Foreign Office decided on a brief version of the statement in the House.477 Everson reported from Washington that the Southeast Asia Department seemed perturbed at the course the revolution had taken. Moffat was in Greece, and Landon had a deep-seated distrust of Pibun. He was in no hurry for recognition and thought it should await the elections: early recognition might mean that Pibun would throw the Cabinet out. Meanwhile he would not go in for 'moralising'. When Pibun was 'firmly in the saddle, policy will have to be to link recognition with assurance of good conduct from the Siamese'.478 Palliser thought the State Department and the Foreign Office were in substantial agreement. Probably Stanton had not changed his views: he preferred Khuang to the former regime, provided Pibun was 'well in the background'. 'Mr Thompson is also being gradually persuaded that efficiency is what counts and if anyone has changed their opinions I think it is he.' Thompson now favoured endorsing the regime, lest the moderates in it lost hope. There Landon disagreed: early recognition would help Pibun.479 Landon was

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'sound' on Pibun, Whitteridge added. 'It is a pity that the SEAD didn't take a more positive line about him when the Marshal's resurrection was believed imminent earlier in the year. The Americans (including Mr Stan ton) bear some responsibility for the Marshal's emergence now.'480 In Singapore Pridi suggested that the new regime was nervous, that there might be a military counter-coup led by officers on the active list, and that the delay in recognition might put Pibun in a mood to compromise. Could the ambassadors of Britain, the US and China mediate so as to bring about a coalition government led by a non-party premier?481 Thompson was not optimistic, and Stanton was against the attempt at present: it would be unwelcome to the parties, and saddle the powers with responsibility.482 A message from Thamrong led Thompson to instruct his naval attache to reply orally. The former Prime Minister said he would talk to Khuang but not to Pibun, who had to be jettisoned. Thompson's reply was that that could not be expected while Thamrong threatened force, but that if he guaranteed not to act against the regime for a week, 'during which discussions might be arranged, then there might be some hope of a detente which would strengthen the Cabinet rather than Pibun and his military clique'. If there were a favourable response, Thompson would put the matter into the hands of Prince Rangsit.483 The Foreign Office was not in favour of the initiative unless the US were prepared to act similarly.484 Thompson thought that a detente would be greatly in Britain's interests, and that that fact should not be 'obscured by the doubts and hesitations of the State Department'.485 The re-emergence of Pibun could not be tolerated, Whitteridge thought. The policy of wait-and-see was not, however, proving sufficient, and 'a push from outside' was needed. Pridi's proposal involved 'a crude form of intervention'. Something milder might be less objectionable, yet work as well: Thompson and Stanton could informally tell the provisional government that they could not recognise Siam so long as Pibun remains in power and the new constitution in force. The agreement of the US was necessary, and Landon's view suggested it might be forthcoming. Similar intimations from France and China could follow.486 A draft to Washington looked towards such a policy, suggesting too that Adun might be useful in getting army backing for Pibun's elimination and the installation of a moderate regime while Britain could induce or prevent Pridi's return.487 This in the event rather interventionist telegram was not sent. Instead, at Dening's suggestion, Thompson was authorised simply to tell Prince Rangsit that Thamrong was ready to talk to the provisional government.488 But what would follow? Would Pibun stand aside while 'his former enemies' got together with 'his present puppets'? Would the

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government remain in power if Pibun rigged the elections and got a constitution that gave him a large measure of dictatorship? '. . . you will appreciate our reluctance to become in any way the sponsors of a reconciliation if in the end such a reconciliation should pave the way for Pibun to secure unchallenged authority, in which event we may well find him less well disposed towards us and our friends than his present anxiety to please indicates.'489 Inverchapel was instructed to inform the State Department that Thompson had been authorised to speak to Prince Rangsit. He was also to enquire if the department thought further action could be taken. Apparently it favoured non-recognition while Pibun remained in his present position. The danger was that Pibun might step aside only ostensibly when the new government was established, presumably after the elections. Non-recognition might not suffice to avert this. Should there be an indication in advance that the UK, the US, France and China would withhold recognition as long as Pibun remained in his present position at the head of the army?490 The Foreign Office not only doubted the prospects of mediation given Pibun's position. The provisional constitution made it doubtful that the policy of non-recognition until the elections would help to remove him. Thamrong replied that he was, as Thompson suggested, ready to meet Khuang, though he did not think it could lead to a favourable result while Pibun could control the army.491 Thompson rejected the implication that it was his initiative. But the important point was that there was 'now a possibility - if perhaps only a slender one - of some amiable adjustments between the two parties ruling out the danger of bloodshed and so producing the detente that from every point of view is so necessary . . .'492 Palliser thought it 'rather a pity' Thompson was 'playing such a prominent role in the mediation efforts', particularly if nothing were to come of them.493 In fact Thompson's objective seemed still to be to avert civil war, rather than to effect the mediation Pridi had in mind. The ambassador answered the Foreign Office's queries about Pibun in a way it did not perhaps expect. The Cabinet could not dispense with him while it faced a threat of counter-action. But Pibun was 'not entirely a fool'. He knew that the world in 1947 was not the world of 1937 or 1942, and while he was likely to remain 'to a greater or lesser degree a power behind the civil administration', he would not go out of his way to offend foreign powers, notably the US and UK, by 'narrow nationalist practices of pre-war years'. Thompson also thought he would be more ready than Khuang to make a deal with Thamrong. He could not answer the Foreign Office's query about elections: any guess would be wild, given the current confusion and uncertainty. 'It has been my policy from the start to use my influence against disorder vigorously.' So far it had been successful: the danger remained. 'In doing what I can to ease

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matters, I am inspired by the anxiety to see civil administration strengthened to the point of being able to dispense with the protection of Pibun.' In the absence of a reconciliation, 'the possibility of Pibun securing unchallenged authority over the present Cabinet can only grow into virtual certainty.'494 Thompson's focus, it seemed, was on diminishing an armed challenge to the Cabinet in the hope that that would produce stability and that Pibun's influence would diminish rather than increase. For its part, the State Department stayed with the wait-and-see approach. The idea of a statement that recognition would be withheld while Pibun remained in his current position was unattractive. No statement about the constitution should be made until its final form was known.495 The State Department planned to continue relations with the provisional government on a day-to-day basis. It considered Pibun was 'likely to remain in control', and perhaps 're-admit Thamrong', as Thompson thought. 'Despite this estimate that Pibun is likely to become entrenched behind the present regime, State Department do not think it would be wise to take positive action against him at the present moment. They prefer to continue non-recognition in order to keep their freedom of action.'496 Whitteridge found this attitude 'disappointingly negative: the chances of unsticking Pibun without a push from the outside are small.'497 Palliser doubted if the State Department's 'purely negative' approach would have much effect 'other than allow Pibun to strengthen his hand'.498 Pridi was cooped up on an island in Singapore harbour. Surely, Killearn suggested, he should be offered the hospitality of Malaya? One day he might return to power. Moreover, it was a British tradition to give asylum to political refugees. 'Moral factors of this kind are going to be of the greatest importance in maintaining British leadership in this part of the world now that the physical strength which in the past has guaranteed British influence has so greatly diminished . . .'499 Allen was prepared to support Pridi's wish to visit England: it would be 'uncomfortable' to deny it, 'just because his country has fallen into the hands of a man we regarded as our enemy'.500 With Foreign Office approval, Killearn had verbally given Pridi a message from Direk, the ambassador in London. That indicated his view that the new constitution was a farce and that the influence of Pibun and the army had to be eliminated.501 Pridi told Brain on 10 December that Direk might be a go-between. If he went to London, he might go on to Lausanne: the king had acknowledged his birthday message.502 Mediation would best come from the king.503 Pridi's suggestion that the king should pour oil on troubled waters Thompson thought constructive.504 'What are we doing about this?' Bevin asked.505 Dening had seen Direk.506 He was willing to go to Lausanne, Thompson was told: but he

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must know in whose name he spoke and the basis of the proposals.507 That was not a matter Thompson felt he could take up without risking being told to mind his own business. In seeking Prince Rangsit's good offices, which he had now done, he took a 'big chance'.508 He had never wanted mediation. Direk now said he had in any case 'come to the conclusion that it was not a very good idea, since the King might well wish to keep aloof from politics'.509 Prince Rangsit told Thompson that Khuang said Thamrong could call at any time, but he could not protect him if he had been involved in illegal action.510 Thamrong told Captain Dennis, the naval attache, that he looked for no results. If he resisted, he asked, would the US or the UK help? Dennis replied in the negative.511 A few days later his arrest was reported in the press.512 It seemed to have little effect, Palliser noted.513 'There is really nothing we can do save watch the pot simmering and hope it won't boil over', Whitteridge added.514 Pridi was downcast and saw little purpose now in going to the UK. A message from Thamrong urged him to return to Bangkok.515 Thompson said that the British could not be involved.516 Killearn was told that Britain could not connive at his clandestine return; 'but presumably there is nothing to prevent him returning by ordinary means of travel if he elects to do so.'517 Thompson said he could get assurances for Pridi's safety in Bangkok. Meanwhile Thamrong and Pibun had met and the situation had relaxed. 'For the rest, I am convinced that the only way to ease Pibun into the background is to support the present de facto Cabinet who are in my opinion doing an excellent job.'518 Palliser was, by the beginning of January, reaching the conclusion 'that, provided nothing startling happens in the near future - as for example a counter stroke by Admiral Thamrong, which appears to be more and more unlikely - we may well have to face the fact that it is difficult to judge oriental methods by occidental standards, that the new regime seems on the whole a reasonable and responsible one, and that we should recognise it in the hope that such action will encourage the better elements and emphasise to the worse that xenophobia is no longer likely to prove the most profitable policy to adopt'. 'It may be', Dening commented, 'that we shall find ourselves driven to recognition through the attitude of the Americans. But expediency is not invariably the best policy, and we may see ourselves regretting that we succumbed to it.'519 The Philippines and North Borneo In Manila the British had continued to pursue the proposed treaty of friendship. When Foulds gave Elpidio Quirino the British draft in midFebruary, the Vice-President said that 'at first glance it seemed entirely

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acceptable. He added he would like if possible to have it signed within a week. He seems most anxious to conclude a treaty with us before concluding one with China.' But Foulds thought the most-favoured-nation clause would cause difficulty. The parity amendment required by the Bell Act was being submitted to popular plebiscite on 11 March and would give American nationals and companies a privileged position. An exchange of notes would be needed to debar British nationals from these privileges. The Foreign Office decided to await the plebiscite.520 That duly approved the amendment.521 In mid-April, news came of the signing of the Chinese treaty,522 and of a Philippine counter-draft of the proposed UK treaty. The Filipinos are being quite unnecessarily tiresome', Tomlinson remarked.523 Quirino also announced that he planned to leave for Washington on 25 April and to visit the UK early in June 'to look into the question of opening Philippine Legation'; also he hoped to see the Derby.524 He wanted, too, to sign the treaty in London, and to sign others in Paris and Rome. Foulds suspected 'that the Vice-President's proposal to sign the treaty in London is designed to rush us into accepting the Philippine counterdraft. Nevertheless I see some advantage in closing the bargain with him if we can . . .' Tomlinson agreed that the kudos Quirino would get, and the publicity the event would attract, would be 'helpful in AngloPhilippine relations'. But it would not justify giving way 'on any point which is of importance to us'.525 The Philippine counter-draft, as Foulds pointed out, differed in a number of ways from the British draft. It omitted, for example, all reference to Truman's independence proclamation, which cited the AngloAmerican treaty of 1930. 'This', Foulds thought, 'may perhaps not be a matter of great moment, as that treaty is cited in Article 1 of the Philippine Constitution.' The counter-draft also contained nothing equivalent to Article 3 on the continued applicability of Anglo-American treaties. Article 5 provided for a future commercial treaty and for mostfavoured-nation treatment, but added: 'If, however, one of the High Contracting Parties accords special treatment to the nationals of a third country in exchange for certain considerations, such treatment shall be extended to the other High Contracting Party only for equivalent considerations.' Article 6 went further, asserting special American privilege, as Foulds put it, 'in the bluntest possible fashion', and no doubt, he thought, inserted upon American insistence: 'The stipulations of this Treaty do not extend to special treatment which is now accorded or which may hereafter be accorded by the Republic of the Philippines to the United States of America, its nationals, corporations or associations.'526 The Board of Trade could not take Articles 5 and 6 of the counterdraft 'seriously as a basis for negotiation'. 'We do not feel that we can

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accept anything less than unconditional m.f.n. treatment over the whole field (with a saver for favours actually enjoyed by the United States before Pearl Harbour) and a fairly firm commitment to negotiate a fullscale Treaty or Agreement within, say, the next two to three years . . .'527 The Colonial Office was anxious over the lack of an equivalent to Article 3 of the British draft: 'we are still concerned to see that whatever treaty is signed . . . does contain a guarantee of definition of British and Philippine territories which will ensure our position in North Borneo.' One possibility was to insert in Article 1 of the counter-draft, which described in general terms the territories the treaty covered, a phrase alluding to the boundary of the Philippines and North Borneo as being that of the 1930 convention.528 The Colonial Office had been considering the legal position. The Philippines could not have in North Borneo rights greater than those of the United States, Mervyn Jones argued. In view of an Anglo-Spanish treaty of 1885, the United States could have had no rights as successor to Spain. Could it have had any as territorial sovereign of Sulu? Argument that it had would be 'based upon the contention that sovereign rights can, as it were, become attached to the realty and that the title to North Borneo was such a right and passed on the acquisition of Sulu by the United States and thereafter to the Philippines. I think the argument has only to be put in this way to show how weak it is . . .' It faced other objections. Any reversionary right under the 1878 transaction would be held by the Sultan, 'and in order to support a claim by the Philippines, it would be necessary to show some transaction by which the Sultan had transferred that reversion, if any, to the United States or to the Philippines; there is no suggestion of any such transaction'. In any case, there was no reversion: the Sultan made 'an absolute and irrevocable grant' in 1878.529 F. A. Vallat, the Assistant Legal Adviser at the Foreign Office, generally agreed with these arguments: the UK's position was 'fairly strong'. The burden of proving a better title to North Borneo would rest squarely on the Philippines. 'In making their claim they would be faced by the facts of a long period of British administration under grants from the Sultans of Brunei and Sulu', and of the conduct of its foreign affairs by the UK government. The claim would be hard to substantiate in view of the treaties of 1885 and 1930, and the President's proclamation specifically referred to the latter. Vallat doubted if any insertion should be made in the proposed treaty, as the Colonial Office suggested. If anything were put into it, it should be an express renunciation or recognition. In view of the strength of Britain's position, 'it would probably be better to await an attack, which may never materialise, rather than to initiate proposals which may only serve to put ideas into the heads of the Philippines Government'.530 The Colonial Office would not drop the matter and the

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Foreign Office agreed to insert an article providing for recognition of the 1930 boundary.531 Article 6, Tomlinson thought, should not include 'the words "or which may hereafter be accorded" \532 The arrival of a copy of the SinoPhilippine treaty of 18 April533 showed that the Chinese had given way on a number of contentious issues, including the use of these same words. 'We do not see why we should bind ourselves now to look with equanimity on whatever special privileges may be accorded in the future to the U.S. in the Philippines, although we see no alternative to accepting the position as it now stands . . .'534 These doubts led the Foreign Office to conclude that no treaty could be signed during Quirino's visit.535 He raised the question, however, at Bevin's cocktail party on 2 June, and the Secretary of State brought Dening into the discussion. 'As might be expected with an entirely new country', the latter commented, 'the Philippine counter-draft ... is rather a silly one in some respects, and unless Mr Quirino can be brought round to our point of view, I think signature will have to be delayed until the matter can be sorted out. . .'536 D. F. MacDermot met Quirino on 3 June.537 That evening he went to Bless the Bride,538 and Dening met him on 5 June. A new draft was prepared at the Foreign Office. This included, as Article 3, the recognition of the North Borneo boundary as in the convention of 1930, and, as Article 4, provision for the preparation of a list of treaties in force. Article 7 provided for the negotiation of a comprehensive commercial treaty; Article 8 offered most-favoured-nation treatment; Article 9 excepted from this the 'special treatment. . . now accorded' by the Philippines to American nationals, corporations, and associations. Articles 8 and 9 and Article 10, which defined nationals, companies and vessels, might, according to Article 12, be terminated by either party with a year's notice. The main difficulty was the Filipinos' wish to extend the exceptional provision to any special treatment they might subsequently afford the Americans. 'There is general agreement that we cannot sign a blank cheque of this kind', Tomlinson had told Dening. '. . . An Article of this kind is clearly incompatible with the gospel that the Americans consistently preach to us . . ,'539 Quirino went to the Derby on 7 June and left London on the 9th.540 He said he planned to reply from Paris, but he did not do so.541 In Paris, however, he concluded a treaty with France couched in rather general terms.542 Back in Manila Quirino did not offer Foulds a very satisfactory reply to his enquiry about the British treaty. He said he thought he had made a mistake in trying to put too much into the first treaty: 'When you meet a friend you first shake hands, and embrace and perhaps even kiss before talking business!!' He said he would send me a copy

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of the treaty with France to see what I thought of it. I hope this does not mean that he wants to scrap everything and start again. But you know how tiresome these people can be . . .543

Tomlinson rather shared Quirino's view. 'It is perhaps a pity that we touched on trade matters at all in our original draft. Our first intention was to negotiate a very simple Treaty of amity, but, on the insistence of other departments, the draft became slightly complicated.' But it would be a mistake now to 'go back to our original idea. The simple Treaty of amity, which would have been appropriate at an earlier stage, would be less so now. Our aim is no longer to make a prompt gesture of goodwill towards a new state; and it will be a distinct loss of face to start again from scratch at this stage.'544 In October the Manila Department of Foreign Affairs finally gave Foulds its views on the June draft. It proposed the removal of the mostfavoured-nation articles. 'They explain that they are unable, owing to their special relations with the United States, to make treaty containing a most-favoured-nation clause.' They could accept Article 8 only if the phrase 'or hereafter' were inserted in Article 9.545 T suspect that in this matter they are not free agents and that behind the scenes the Americans are insisting on limits beyond which the Filipinos must not step . . .' But on balance Foulds favoured continuing the negotiations. 'The Philippine Government are reasonably well disposed towards us and our local interests and are genuinely anxious to sign a treaty of friendship. Our interests would suffer in various ways if we rebuffed them and we are in no position to retaliate.' A treaty would at least avoid discrimination against the British compared with other non-American foreigners.546 The most serious 'snag' in the negotiations, Tomlinson wrote in November, was 'the question of the quite special relations between the Philippines and the United States'. The British would not 'sign a blank cheque', but the Filipinos, prompted, Foulds suspected, by the Americans, were insisting on the 'hereafter' phrase. 'The American attitude in the Philippines has always seemed to us hard to reconcile with the multilateralism and non-discrimination on which, in other fields, they set so much store.' Perhaps there should be an approach to the Americans? J. M. Hunter, in the Economic Relations Department, was less concerned. 'I understand the US links with the Philippines - e.g. tariffs - were scheduled to weaken as time went on. So, unless formal links are in fact replaced by such special treatment rather than parallel to it in effect, it is the exceptions now which are more onerous for us . . .' Tomlinson sought to discover whether the United States had entered any actual undertakings inconsistent with the privileges Americans now

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enjoyed in the Philippines or might enjoy there in future. 'This latter is particularly important since it can be argued, with some justice, that the arrangements already made were essential rehabilitation measures to tide the Philippines over a difficult period . . .' GATT, he found, gave the Filipinos 'a let-out'. Article 1 allowed the continuance of preference margins at scheduled rates, and Annex D specifically referred to the preferential position of the Philippines and allowed for 'a transfer from preference margins in an internal tax to equivalent preference margins on tariffs'. Whether the preference effect for the UK would be the same if this occurred was unclear. Vincent thought the British could complain to the United States 'if we suffered ill-effect'.547 This advice suggested that there was currently nothing to be gained by pressing the point and little to be lost by not doing so. The negotiations were allowed to lapse. 'One of the reasons for considering negotiating a Treaty of Friendship with the Filipinos', wrote Tomlinson in March 1948, was that we wanted to make a quick gesture towards a new state. Unfortunately other Depts. (notably the B/T) insisted on including matters of substance which in the event proved unacceptable to the Filipinos, and matters have been so protracted that there now seems little point in negotiating a Treaty unless we can get something out of i t . . . In all the circumstances it has been decided to let the matter rest for the time and give the nationalistic fervour of the Philippine state a little time to cool off.548

In dealing with the Philippines, as with Thailand, the Foreign Office had hoped to put relations on a nation-nation basis, whatever it thought of the reality of Philippines independence. As in the case of Thailand, so in the case of the Philippines, a range of other British interests tended to obscure this objective. Nation-nation relations are intended, of course, to be based on the resolution of differences in the context of accepted sovereignty. Introducing them at the same time as the acceptance of sovereignty was in question not only made them difficult to solve but threatened the establishment of a new relationship. The existence of other departments in London did not create the problems, but it emphasised them, and the broad aim of British policy tended to be lost. As in Thailand, so in the Philippines, the tripartite nature of relationships also complicated the matter. The US had, or was thought to have, divergent aims. Britain needed both to work with the US, but also, so far as possible, to take precautions against it. In the case of Thailand, there were no border issues with Britain, though there were with France. Relations with the Philippines were, however, complicated by the uncertainty over North Borneo. Never quite eliminated pre-war, the question of its status was raised, not so

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much by the independence of the Philippines, as by the establishment of a British colony in place of the Chartered Company. That seemed, indeed, something of a challenge to Filipino nationalism, and the Colonial Office was apprehensive. If, therefore, the most-favourednation issue was the major 'snag' in the treaty discussions, the most important of the other issues was the status of North Borneo. The Colonial Office seemed anxious, despite some Foreign Office doubts, to make assurance double sure. The Colonial Office had also sought to affirm British rights in North Borneo by finding and paying the heirs of the Sultan of Sulu, unremunerated during the Japanese occupation.549 In May, Foulds reported that his Legal Adviser, James Ross, had traced the heirs. Seven of the nine were still alive: 'these persons have been got at by trouble-makers who are apparently holding out prospects of large sums of money to be extracted from His Majesty's Government. That is the reason why they have never come forward to claim arrears of cession money . . .'550 Early in October the Philippines Department of Foreign Affairs delivered a note dated 15 September with enclosures from Agripino Escareal, acting for the Sulu heirs. The note indicated that the early settlement of this private claim would be 'very much appreciated'. Foulds replied that he had already sent applications received to the Governor of North Borneo: if they had been received earlier, they would have been sent earlier. He told the Foreign Office in London that he concluded that the Philippines government did not wish, 'for the present at any rate, to interest themselves in the matter'.551 Foulds' appreciation, like Ross's, was accurate. When Professor H. Otley Beyer and F. B. Harrison called on the President, Roxas exploded: 'Do you boys want me to take on the whole British Empire?'552 When, however, some days later, the Philippines Department finally gave Foulds its views on the draft treaty, it argued that, if the British insisted on a reference to the North Borneo boundary in Article 3, it would insist on an additional paragraph, in which the British government would recognise all the rights and interests of the Sultan of Sulu and his heirs and successors arising out of the agreements between the company and the sultan.553 'Thus the cat peeps out of the bag', Foulds remarked. 'I have told them very emphatically that I believe that His Majesty's Government will entirely reject this proposal; that payments to private heirs of former Sultan are ex gratia payments which are not based on any agreement with any sovereign power and that in any case I have no authority to discuss the subject.' Madamba, of Philippines Foreign Affairs, said that in that case it would be better to drop Article 3 of the treaty and rely on Article 1 of the constitution. T suspect that Sultan Sulu was produced primarily as a lever to make us drop Article 3', Foulds

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commented. But he saw force in Madamba's suggestion. 'If we continue to insist on our Article 3 we shall probably provoke a debate in Congress when it reassembles next January. This is bound to cause ill feeling and to focus undesirable attention on a subject which is best avoided . . ,'554 The Colonial Office remained dissatisfied: the Philippines could after all amend its constitution. A reference to the heirs, however, would, as the Colonial Office admitted, play into Escareal's hands. Perhaps there could be an exchange of notes, either confirming the 1930 convention, or alluding to Article 1 of the constitution as safeguarding the boundary.555 This idea went no further. The Foreign Office had never been keen to raise the issue. The lapse of the treaty negotiations hardly encouraged separately negotiating for an exchange of notes.

CHAPTER 5

The Impact of Communism, 1948

Western Union

In Europe Britain had long been engaged in squaring circles. It was necessary to call the new world in to redress the bank balance of the old, but that had its price. In seeking to maintain its independence, it must also lose it. A power that wants to retain the status quo as far as possible, but is no longer in a position to maintain it all, has to make choices. The US was a better choice than Germany pre-war. The US was a better choice than the Soviet Union post-war. The years 1947-48 marked a further stage in the apprehension of the Soviet threat. Britain took the lead in western Europe, promoting Western Union, but with the aim of involving the US, though also gaining leverage. Following the failure of the Foreign Ministers' conference on Germany, Bevin finally abandoned any hope of serious negotiations with Russia. 'His own idea', he told Marshall on 17 December 1947, was that we must devise some Western democratic system, comprising the Americans, ourselves, France, Italy etc. and of course the Dominions. This would not be a formal alliance, but an understanding backed by power, money and resolute action . . . If such a powerful consolidation of the West could be achieved it would then be clear to the Soviet Union that having gone so far they could not advance further.1

'We must. . . organise and consolidate ethical spiritual forces inherent in this western civilisation of which we are the chief protagonists', ran the paper Bevin presented to Cabinet on 4 January. 'This in my view can only be done by creating some form of union in Western Europe, whether of a formal or informal character, backed by the Americas and the Dominions.'2 Then, on 22 January 1948, Bevin spoke on this concept 263

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of Western Union in the House of Commons. Attlee had urged a conciliatory note in reference to Russia,3 but clearly the Foreign Secretary was now taking up his European policy more boldly. 'We wanted to show people that there was a real positive reorganization of the West, and not give any impression that we were simply preparing for defence', he told the French ambassador on 13 February.4 The communist takeover in Czechoslovakia in February made the British Cabinet more resolute.5 The Brussels treaty with France and the Benelux countries was signed on 17 March. Bevin had prepared the ground with Marshall, and he was now less cautious over the Soviet Union than he had been earlier. His Cabinet paper also argued that Britain could develop 'power and influence' to equal that of the United States and the USSR, and he had extravagant hopes of colonial development, particularly, jointly with France, in Africa.6 He did not believe that his policies were inconsistent: it was a matter of leverage. 'No Western European system can be solidly established and defended', as the Prime Minister told Chifley, who more than shared Attlee's own doubts,7 'without American military backing in the last resort, as the last two wars have demonstrated'.8 In March discussions began on a defence arrangement with the US,9 for which 'Prague was decisive'.10 Those talks were making slow progress when, late in June, Stalin imposed the blockade on West Berlin.11 'American opinion was . . . obsessed with the notion of playing John Adams to a European confederacy.'12 The airlift began and the talks that were to produce the North Atlantic Pact recovered momentum.13 The years 1946-7 had seen major adjustments to the reality of Britain's position. Those were cumulative in effect. The British had decided to withdraw from the Indian subcontinent. India's contribution to Britain's strength had always been equivocal. When Britain was strong, it was a source of strength. If it seemed weak, it was a source of weakness.14 The Attlee government had decided that the equivocation had to cease, before it was resolved the wrong way. Partition was part of the deal. It was, as Fieldhouse puts it, the 'graveyard' of the Labour government's hopes that India would be, if not a dominion like the old dominions, a bulwark against Russia still.15 Satisfactory defence agreements could be made with neither successor-state. Pakistan was too weak, and any deal with it would alienate India. India showed little interest in military discussions anyway.16 The British still hoped, however, that India would play a positive role in promoting the stability of Asia. What was now important was to win its support by Commonwealth-style diplomacy. Given India's attitude to foreign relations, that was likely to be at odds with the trend in relations with the US. The British tried to bridge the gap. Indeed doing so could give them additional leverage in international relations.

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The intensification of the Cold War was, of course, not merely a European matter, but an Asian one. The communists had failed to triumph in western Europe. The Soviet Union now looked to Asia, as Lenin had, as a means of undermining the West. That meant that Asian communist parties might now receive more support than before from international communism, while communist parties in western Europe, for what they were now worth, might be more ready to criticise a colonialist policy. The impact of these changes was and remains unclear. The Calcutta conference in February, McVey suggests, adopted a permissive note on armed action, though it certainly did not discourage it.17 There was indeed a tendency to exaggerate the role of international communism in Asia. The Western powers were encouraged as a result to depreciate the extent of the local support for communism and the need for an effective counter to it. They tended to fall into the long-standing imperial mode of thinking: the masses were uninterested in politics, if not potentially loyal. Difficulties came only from intellectuals and outside influences, and, perhaps, the pangs of hunger. It was also difficult to understand what was taking place in China and why. Controversy over that famously penetrated the making of US policy. Was Chinese communism an agrarian revolution? How amenable were its leaders? How far was their cause identified with that of the Russians? Was nationalism stronger than communism? Were they separable? During 1948 the increasing success of the CCP seemed to relate to a worldwide shift in international communism, though whether as cause or effect was less clear. It was certainly something that the Western powers and their partners had to take into account, even if they might not agree on the means of so doing. These changes affected Britain's policies in Southeast Asia. Those were, however, already being challenged by the realities of Southeast Asia itself. The aim had been to accept a modification of the status quo based on accommodation with nationalism, and thus to seek a new basis for the stability essential for the development of economic relationships. It was an ambitious aim, and many obstacles had become apparent. Some lay in the attitudes and objectives of the British themselves, not always easy to reconcile with the aims of the nationalists. That had been evident in independent states, like Siam and the Philippines, and it was evident, too, in Malaya and Burma. Some lay in the attitude of the other European powers, the Dutch and the French. Their policy tended to mix obstinacy and a lack of initiative brought about by domestic political impasse. The British could act only within the limitations of their European relationships and felt more able to press the Dutch than the French. Not only were the former weaker, the latter were more fully part of larger policies. In all these cases they were conscious of the interests

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of the Americans, sometimes too interfering, sometimes too withdrawn, but, either way, having to be reckoned with. They also had to take account of India, and with its disposition to pursue a pro-nationalist policy, and of Australia, with its determination to play a role in its Near North. By late 1947 Britain had resolved to grant Burma its independence; it had decided to rest its future in Malaya on a federal structure accepted by the Malays; it was determined to sustain its new colonies in Borneo against opposition inside Sarawak and outside North Borneo. It had more or less abandoned any hope or belief that East-West collaboration might in Indo-China be based on Ho Chi Minh's apparent moderation, and was becoming reconciled to a Bao Dai regime. It had virtually dropped its demands on Thailand and accepted the collapse of the regime of its wartime allies. It had let the negotiations for a friendship treaty with the Philippines lapse. It had ceased to play a major intermediary role in Indonesia, though not abandoning all its attempts to bring the parties together and achieve a solution that preserved a role for the Europeans in Southeast Asia. [W]hereas the Dutch regarded Indonesia as almost the beginning and end of international problems, we regarded it in a much larger setting as part of the problem of the relations between Asia and the West, which must now be established on a new basis if Asia was not to turn away from us and relapse if not into chaos or Communism at least into an attitude of Asia for the Asiatics and the virtual expulsion of the white man . . . if the Dutch and the British, or the Western powers as a whole, were to admit any form of regional cooperation in any part of Asia, this must n o t . . . be confined to our own circle. It must not be a projection of the West into the East, which would arouse the animosity of all those who had rejected or still resented Western 'imperialism' or 'colonialism', but must attempt to induce co-operation between all the Asiatic countries and those Western countries in the area . . .18

The changes in British policy were in reaction to events in Southeast Asia and events outside that had an impact on it. In 1948 there were new challenges on both accounts. The closer relations with the European powers that Western Union suggested complicated the British endeavour to prompt them to come to terms with Asian nationalism. Whatever the role of international communism, the approaching triumph of the Chinese communists was bound to have an impact on Southeast Asia. The US was likely to become more deeply involved, though the turn its policy might take would not necessarily coincide with the hopes of the British. India would react to both these events, in ways in which the British would want to turn to account, both despite the prospect that its policies and those of the US might seem far apart and because of it.

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The British did not despair. While the position at the start of 1948 suggested that their policies had enjoyed only a limited success, they were not without achievement, nor without hope. If Burma had left the Commonwealth, it was under a friendly regime. If the Malayan Union had been abandoned, the federation was within reach. If Pridi had failed, the Khuang government was acceptable. If the 1946 agreement had been compromised, rice was flowing. If no friendship treaty had been made, the Philippines had not squarely claimed North Borneo. The events of 1948 were to cast doubt on some of these achievements. Burma collapsed in civil war, and the Federation of Malaya, a major dollar-earner, was challenged by the Emergency. But hope was not lost. Lacking power, the British continued to use diplomacy, trying to involve the US and the Commonwealth, especially India, in an approach to Southeast Asia that was new but not inconsistent with the old. Imperialism and communism Britain had been forced to readjust its policies during 1947, but not to abandon its aspirations. That was reflected in the decision to establish the Commissioner-General in the person of MacDonald. Monteath had preferred the title 'Special Representative'. But that did not win support at the Foreign Office and it decided to consult its representatives in Southeast Asia on the title of 'Commissioner-General': 'we are anxious to give no cause for any belief that a "colonial" or "imperial tinge" will be imparted henceforth to activities of combined organisation in the international field (just as on the colonial side we wish to avoid impression that colonial interests will give place to the interests of His Majesty's Government's foreign policy).'19 No great criticism ensued, though Killearn himself thought the title 'reminiscent of the Salvation Army'. The Foreign Office decided to accept 'Commissioner-General'.20 Dening discussed British policy with MacDonald in London. Grey suggested that he be given some idea of Britain's policy on Netherlands India, 'particularly since Lord Killearn has left as his legacy in Singapore a rather exaggeratedly pro-Indonesian policy which does not correspond with the present policy of H.M. Government'. The Foreign Office was 'seriously concerned' about Indo-China, 'particularly as the French are obviously losing grip and we see no real prospects of a settlement'.21 In fact Britain's policy - of trying to reconcile nationalism and imperialism as a prerequisite for regionalism - was not becoming easier to pursue. If Killearn had appeared 'pro-Indonesian', Dening had resisted the idea, hinted at by the Dutch ambassador, that Britain might lift its embargo on arms for Netherlands India:

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we must resist the suggestion that, because of the Western Union, the policy of the United Kingdom is bound to coincide with that of the Dutch or the French in South East Asia. That is not to say that we may not some day hope to secure regional collaboration in that area too, but we have enough troubles of our own at present without becoming involved in those of the N.E.I. or French Indo-China.22

From Bangkok Thompson had reported the reactions to Bevin's speech in the foreign affairs debate. In forming a Western bloc, Britain and the US, it was feared, might be too ready to leave France and the Netherlands 'freedom of action' in Indo-China and Indonesia. 'In Siam apprehensions on this score are perhaps to some extent inspired by the belief that America particularly, came down heavily on the French side during the proceedings last year of the Franco-Siamese [Frontier] Conciliation Commission in Washington.'23 'I think we must face the fact that Far Eastern opinion generally will assume that the formation of a "Western Bloc" will reduce our independent attitude in South-East Asia.'24 P. S. Scrivener, of the Special Commissioner's office in Singapore, had discussed the significance of the Brussels five-power European treaty with the French consul-general. Both favoured cooperation in the political and not merely the technical sphere, but recognised it must be accepted by the governments at home. A common line would, however, be difficult to agree upon, Scrivener admitted, as was illustrated by the arms embargo, 'and the persistence (as it seems) of the French in cracking their heads against a sort of military stone wall'. Furthermore, the treaty had been criticised locally as an imperialist rapprochement. In Western Europe the peoples as well as the politicians had recognised the threat of communism and made the treaty possible. The threat was not yet recognised in Southeast Asia, and some of its leaders indeed hoped to use communism 'as a means of liberation from the West'. Circumspection was essential for the five powers, lest they strengthen the very force which it is the object of their union to destroy. But at the same time our allies are on common ground in working towards some form of Dominion status for the N.E.I, and Indo-China, and we are all on common ground in wishing to repel communism, if not by direct action, then by the surer method of promoting the welfare of the local population . . .25

'We have consistently pursued a more liberal Colonial policy in SouthEast Asia than either of the other two Metropolitan powers concerned', Kenneth Christofas commented. 'There is a great danger that, if our alliance with the other Western Powers in Europe were to be correspondingly reflected in our behaviour in the East, we should lose the

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sympathy of the Asiatic peoples by whom "Colonialism" and "Imperialism" are considered a far greater menace than Communism . . .' Dening 'thought that we should continue to hasten slowly in South East Asia and should persist with our policy of getting the territories to collaborate in technical matters until they have become so accustomed to co-operating that higher flights could then be essayed . . .' Michael Wright, now at the Foreign Office, thought the policy should remain, but the difficulty also remained, and had indeed increased. Economic and social collaboration should work up to political collaboration, because that should be 'on the basis of Europeans and Asiatics working together'. But problems in IndoChina and Netherlands India continued, and the emergence of the Western Union 'makes it still more difficult to get away from the pattern of purely European collaboration, which it is desirable to avoid'. If the Dutch made 'further progress . . . , the whole problem would become easier. The longer matters drift the greater becomes the risk that communistic tendencies, as in Burma, will become accentuated.'26 The declaration of the Emergency in Malaya followed the day after Wright wrote his minute.27 The British did not greatly change their view: it was a matter of distinguishing between nationalism and communism. The European powers could exchange information about communist activities, but should avoid any public announcement of anti-communist policy.28 The pursuit of a regional approach, the aim, if sometimes differently emphasised, of both Foreign Office and Colonial Office, was clearly made more difficult by the advance of communism, but it was also made more necessary. The approach had been based on an ambitious premise, the reconciliation of nationalism and imperialism. This the British believed they had achieved in India, and, they hoped, in Burma, and they did not think they faced the same task in Malaya. Theirs was an example the Dutch and the French should follow, so that regional collaboration should neither be anti-imperialist nor pro-imperialist. It was a policy also designed to win American support. On Southeast Asia as a whole, however, the Americans seemed to have developed no policy. Dening had told the Dutch ambassador in March that the time for considering regional security had not yet arrived: 'it seemed to me difficult to consider regional security without knowing what the United States might have in mind. It might be that the position would become clearer when we came to conclude a Japanese peace treaty, since the question of security was one which was bound to be considered in that connexion . . ,'29 Bevin had indeed suggested that attention would then concentrate on Southeast Asia. The end of the occupation would require new means of providing for international security. In fact the Cold War was to spread to Southeast Asia before the peace treaty was made. It also anticipated the consolidation of regionalism.

270

THE IMPACT OF COMMUNISM The advance of Chinese communism

At the Commonwealth Prime Ministers' conference in October 1948 Bevin pointed to the unsettled conditions in Southeast Asia. Could Commonwealth countries help its pacification? He suggested that, without interfering in their internal affairs, 'there should be some regular means of consultation between Commonwealth countries interested in that area with the object of helping to put the political and economic life of the countries of South-East Asia on a firm footing, based upon internal stability and freedom from the menace of Communist attack'. He had not worked out 'detailed proposals', but the recent attainment of independence by India, Pakistan and Ceylon 'meant that their collaboration in such an approach would be of special value and influence'. The remarks secured positive comments from Evatt and from Nehru, who said that Indonesia and Burma had sought India's counsel.30 Bevin also pointed to Britain's acceptance of Marshall Aid. In Asia there was nothing like the Organisation for European Economic Cooperation (OEEC), to 'enable conflicting claims to be balanced' and priorities ordered. The UK, mobilised one day in every three for thirty years, had not been able to contribute to world development.31 The growing success of the Chinese communists led Bevin to ask his officials at the end of the year for a report on its implications. The Far Eastern Official Committee agreed that, while Britain should take all possible steps to protect its trade position, there was nothing it could do to combat the advance of communism in China itself. The main task must be to build up resistance in surrounding countries, by resolving political disputes, as in Kashmir, Indonesia and Indo-China, and by improving the economic position of Southeast Asia as a whole. The cooperation of other interested powers was essential.32 Those powers should be approached 'in the hope that this would lead to some effective action'.33 The committee prepared a paper for the Cabinet on the position in China and its implications for British interests, and on possible counteraction. Communist control of all China would be 'a grave danger to Malaya'. 'Militant communism would be very close to Malaya's northern frontier, with Siam and French Indo-China as poor buffers.' The morale of the Malayan communists would improve, and more CCP agents might be infiltrated. Even small successes for the Malayan communists might have 'wide repercussions among the passive Chinese community, since Chinese morale in Malaya has never been good, and is very sensitive to bandit successes, intimidation, and propaganda'. The Chinese population might be 'even less ready to co-operate actively with the Malayan Government than at present. They will continue to sit firmly on the

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fence and hope that a Communist administration in China will turn out to be peaceful and reformist. . .' In Sarawak and North Borneo communist successes in North China will 'probably lead to an increase in Communist sympathies among the local Chinese population and reinforcement of present Communist attempts to persuade Chinese intelligentsia that national aspirations can now best be achieved through communism . . .' Communist control of all China would probably lead to a link-up with Burmese communists, and the disorder in Burma 'might render it very difficult to cope with any considerable increase in Communist strength'. A communist victory in China would also increase the difficulties in Indo-China, 'where the failure of the French Government to take effective measures to seek a solution has resulted in an alliance between the Nationalist and Communist elements', and the French position might become 'untenable . . . at any rate in the north'. In Indonesia, the effect would, at least initially, be less, in view of the defeat administered to the Communists in their recent attempt to wrest power from the Republic [at Madiun]. But if the Dutch were to fail to reach a settlement in the near future and were to take military action against the Republic, this might lead to an alliance between the Nationalists and the Communists which might result in a long period of disorder with serious consequences not only to Indonesia but to South-East Asia as a whole.

With a communist victory in China, the strong Chinese communist element in Siam might 'get out of hand', and in the south it might combine with communist elements in Malaya. Communist success would affect British economic interests in China. It would also contribute indirectly to disorder in the rice-producing countries of Southeast Asia. In turn a decrease in rice production would 'provide fertile ground for Communist agitation'. The United States was unlikely to take effective counter-action in respect of China. In Southeast Asia, it was 'apparently not prepared to accept any responsibility . . ., or to take any action at present to maintain the position of friendly Powers there'. The powers in Southeast Asia must therefore take their own measures. 'It is more than ever essential that the most strenuous efforts should be made to clear up the situation in Malaya as soon as possible.' Coordination among the governments would be desirable, but 'it is very doubtful whether in the present political situation in the region it would be possible to align the various territories publicly together'. Burma would find it difficult to associate with French Indo-China and Indonesia; Australia, New Zealand, India and Pakistan, all with 'a vital interest in the peace and prosperity of South-East Asia', would be 'unwilling to join in any activities involving

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support of the French and Dutch Governments in this area'. Britain might be 'in the best position to act as the co-ordinating factor, though it would be necessary to consider the political consequences very carefully at each stage'. It should consult the Commonwealth countries, France, the Netherlands, Burma and Siam, on 'the best method of dealing with the situation', keeping the United States informed and seeking its support. An exchange of information on communist activities might be possible. 'We might also invite a study of the economic consequences of Communist domination of China for the whole area.'34 The Cabinet on 13 December 1948 approved the policy the committee advocated. 'Was it not time to extend to the Far East the same sort of concerted arrangements for economic and military defence measures as were being built up against Soviet aggression in Western Europe through the European Recovery Programme and the policy of Western Union?' The Foreign Secretary was asked to consult the United States in the first instance 'on means of containing the Communist threat to Anglo-American interests in Asia'. In the light of the results, he would discuss with the Secretary of State for Commonwealth Relations means of holding similar consultations with Commonwealth governments.35 Instability in Burma

Burma became independent outside the Commonwealth on 4 January 1948. Britain's relations with it would now be conducted, within the framework of the defence treaty and the other arrangements made during 1947, by the Foreign Office. At that office Peter Murray attempted to summarise Britain's policy and the problems it faced. 'Our chief shortterm aim in Burma is to increase the rice export. Our long-term aims are to encourage and fortify our trade with Burma and, by maintaining our influence both political and commercial, to keep Burma within the orbit of our strategic and political plans for Southern Asia.' Political stability was uncertain, given the antagonism of communists, Karens and Kachins. To the Kachins and Karens who had supported the Allied war effort, 'mainly out of hatred for the Burmese', the British had 'a strong moral obligation', 'superseded by the pressure of other considerations'. The government had dispensed with its British officials and would not welcome intervention or even advice. 'Burmese internal politics will develop along their own lines, which will no doubt be very different from ours; and we would be wise not to get entangled with them.' Externally, China had revived claims in northern Burma. India was 'a less immediate but ultimately perhaps a graver threat' to Burma. But 'if we try to fight her battles with these two', would it compensate for loss of their goodwill?

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Strategically, Britain's main objective was that Burma should remain 'stable and free from the domination of any hostile power'. The chief threat was from China in the north and east. 'This does not immediately affect our strategic interests, which are on the coast and in Lower Burma; but it clearly affects the country's stability, and will be much more serious if China in the meantime succumbs to Communism.' It was essential to maintain good relations with Burma, and for the British Service Mission, provided for in the agreement of August 1947, to be successful in 'building up the Burmese forces for the effective maintenance of internal security and frontier defence'. Murray thought that independent Burma's commitment to state socialism at the pace it contemplated and the nationalisation of British firms would bring about economic collapse. If we employ sanctions against Burma we have to confess that our policy of confidence in them has failed. And it must not be assumed that a reversion to a primitive self-sufficiency would necessarily be unpopular in Burma; most of the people would probably welcome it. It would lead, indeed, straight to the domination of India or China; and this argument may still appeal to the Burmese when all others fail. Britain secured rice, wolfram, teak; profits came from services. 'A collapse in Burma would n o t . . . affect us vitally; and unless very bad trouble broke out in the south between the Karens and the Burmese, a considerable quantity of rice or paddy would probably still be available for export.' 36 Murray's colleague, P. F. Grey, saw the last Governor, Sir Hubert Ranee, on his return from Rangoon. 'He was convinced that a delicate handling of the Burmese was essential.' The Prime Minister, Nu, Tin Tut and others had assured him 'that if a new form of association could be worked out for Asiatic members, Burma would be glad to rejoin the Commonwealth'. India was 'thinking along the lines of associate membership', and the question might become active, Grey thought. He was not sure he could take the talk 'very seriously': it was 'rare' for a country to 'put back the clock of history'. But if it did, it would be 'most striking', and that afforded an additional reason to treat the Burmese with tact so as to avoid 'any irrevocable step in the other direction'. Associate membership would mean 'all the advantages and no obligations', Dening thought. 'And that, in the case of the Asiatic nations, is not good enough.' Burma could be 'safely' left to take the first move; but it was right not to be too 'brusque' with the Burmese: 'rough handling will only strengthen the opposition'. 'I want them to be treated kindly and on terms of equality', Bevin wrote; 'whether they come back or not does not matter it is the strong ties of friendship we want.'37

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The Foreign Office concluded that there was a premium on stability in Burma, partly for economic reasons and partly for strategic ones. Even more important, perhaps, was the display of confidence in the regime. That would indeed limit what the British could do in Burma, but it was limited already. A failure in confidence would, however, be limiting in another sense. Britain's regional policy would be challenged, in particular its concept of a new East-West relationship based on the Europeans' accommodation to the Asians' nationalism. This was the most important investment in Burma, because it affected wider interests elsewhere in Southeast Asia and beyond. The near-collapse of the Burma government later in the year was an embarrassing challenge to this policy, of which the British were aware in their continued appraisal of Dutch and French policies. Instability raised the question of intervention, in the context of growing apprehension of international communism, to which Murray had given little attention at the beginning of the year. It also revived the moral issue in respect of Karens and Kachins, which Murray had thought superseded. Only at the end of the year did the British conceive of the way in which these problems might stimulate a Commonwealth diplomacy, a desirable aim in itself. In April 1948, with the communist rebellion, the Burma government urgently sought war materiel. Three Spitfires were sent from Singapore, and 3 million rounds of small arms ammunition.38 In May, however, Nu, proposing to resign as Prime Minister within two months, called for the formation of a united Leftist party, to include the socialists, the PYA, and even the communists 'now engaged in the insurrection, if they admit the error of their ways'. The programme involved virtually incorporated the manifesto of the communist Thein Pe, and R. J. Bowker, the British ambassador, told the Foreign Minister that it meant the 'wholesale acceptance of Communism' and 'a turning away from Burma's present friends towards another direction'. He was concerned about a policy of nationalisation first, compensation after and questioned the future of the British Services Mission.39 Perhaps, Murray thought, Bowker should tell the Burmese government that such a course would lose the friendship and support of the British government, thus weakening their economic, strategic and diplomatic position. 'He might also point out that to exchange their independence for slavish subservience to Russian ideas and policy would be the negation of Aung San's life-work.'40 Grey was in any case uncertain that Nu's tactic would save the coalition. Sargent thought that, with no 'strong man to take charge, the natural tendency of the Burmese to internecine fighting and intrigue' would 'continue unrestrained to the ultimate benefit of the Communists who, if they are well drilled by Moscow, ought to be able to set up a Communist State before very long'. Bevin agreed. 'I have inherited the

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Problem from the India Committee. I was aghast when the sudden announcement of independence was made.' Grey thought that the communists were 'not yet in direct touch with Moscow . . . But this may well alter with time and with the establishment of the Soviet Embassy in Rangoon next month'.41 Grey drafted a memorandum for the Cabinet. It recorded a suggestion by Bevin that the British should review their policy of supplying arms to Burma, and also suggested that it might be necessary to review Britain's support for Burma in the international field.42 The Cabinet agreed. 'Some doubt was, however, expressed whether Thakin Nu's statement represented so marked a departure from his earlier attitude as might at first sight appear. Even at the time of the negotiations for the Treaty, the AFPFL had been in negotiation with the more moderate of the two Communist parties in Burma, in the hope of using it to defeat the other.'43 The Cabinet suggested Bevin should talk to the Burmese ambassador, Sir Maung Gyee. Nu was 'thinking of his home opinion and his internal political difficulties when he made his statement', he told Grey, and 'his opposition to the Communists was as firm as ever'.44 Dening thought Nu would 'sooner or later . . . find himself the victim of his own propaganda'.45 Bevin saw the ambassador. He insisted that the government abhorred communism and adhered to democracy, but also said he was in the dark. Bowker was told to speak along the same lines in Rangoon. Bevin added a reference to the British government's 'serious view of what appears to be a serious position'.46 Bowker had reported a second Nu speech. That of 13 June was 'more rational and moderate' than that of 25 May, and he was 'against any action which would suggest t h a t . . . we do not fundamentally trust Burma's good intentions'.47 Tin Tut gave assurances, and repeated them when Bowker carried out the Foreign Office's instructions.48 The Foreign Office was not entirely convinced. Nu was 'playing with fire', Murray thought, 'and the net result. . . must certainly be the weakening of the Government. It will be more difficult than ever for him to pursue in practice the kind of policy we should like.'49 Nu was 'naively trying to ride two horses at once', Grey believed, 'and we see no reason why he should be more successful in this than other similar figures who have failed at the same game'. Bowker recommended the continued supply of arms, 'on the ground that no other government is in sight and that we must do what we can to strengthen our present one'. But the review should proceed.50 A statement Bevin made in the Commons on 17 June had helped to awaken the Burmese from their 'complacency'. Whether they could or would live up to their assurances remained to be seen.51 Dening added: 'the future is anybody's guess.'52

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Tin Tut visited the UK late in July, seeking war materiel.53 He assured Bevin that Burma was determined to deal with the communists, to carry out the treaty, to be fair on nationalisation. The policy of the communists, said Bevin, was to start civil war if they could not get their way by political means. One day the Russians would find themselves in difficulty over this policy because the world was turning against them. 'It was heartening to find . . . over Berlin how much support we had received everywhere for our firm stand.' He promised to arrange discussions at the Defence Ministry on the supply of arms.54 The Cabinet's Commonwealth Affairs Committee had concluded that Britain must, for as long as possible, continue to support the current Burmese government, 'while endeavouring to persuade them to treat us reasonably and pointing out to them the considerable advantages to them of a friendly Britain, especially in the field of international relations'. Sanctions were 'two-edged weapons'. There were three possibilities. One, 'probably the best that can be hoped for', was the status quo, a moderate government, pursuing a policy of state socialism and having difficulty in maintaining security. In that case, Britain could press for reasonable treatment of its interests, and support the government against the communists by supplying arms and support in the international field. A second possibility was that the government might be forced by its extremist elements to pursue anti-foreign and anti-British policies. Britain could divert imports, withhold arms, oppose Burma in the international sphere, encourage India, Pakistan, China, Siam to pursue territorial claims. But all except the first of these steps would lead to a breach and the Burmese would denounce the treaty. 'This would be a serious blow to our position in South East Asia. Asiatic opinion would tend to side with the Burmese; and this would affect the position of the Commissioner-General. . ., whose worth depends on collaboration in the area and local sympathy with the aims of British policy.' His work in food allocation would also suffer, since rice would no longer be sold to the Ministry of Food for sterling. A third possibility was that government in Burma would collapse into anarchy, 'with a greater or lesser degree of Communist control'. Neighbouring states might intervene, and the hill peoples try to throw off Burman control.55 The continuance of the present government was the best that could be hoped for, Murray concluded. Britain's policy, and that of the Commonwealth as a whole, must be 'to prevent the situation deteriorating'. Economic interests pointed that way; but the strategic and political interests of the Commonwealth would be 'gravely affected if Burma were to swing wholly into the communist camp, or disintegrate into a state of anarchy with the communists in domination of large areas and Hill peoples in revolt elsewhere'. That would provide a 'convenient centre

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for communist activity in South East Asia'. The provincial authorities in south-west China might intervene. Our conclusion is . . . that we should continue as long as possible to follow our present policy of supporting the existing government of Burma while trying to lead them into the paths of reasonableness in their dealings with foreign interests, and pointing out the advantages to them, especially in the field of international relations, of friendship with ourselves and other Commonwealth countries.

These views were sent to the high commissioners: Commonwealth members might help.56 Indeed Commonwealth collaboration would be a good thing in itself. Deterioration in the government's position in August, when the PYA left the AFPFL,57 prompted Dening to ask if more could be done. Armed force could not be contemplated: it would be propaganda for the opposition to Nu. But Britain could not face 'a completely chaotic Burma with equanimity'.58 It might become easier to strengthen the Burmese military when the Berlin crisis was over. Re-employing British officers would be declined: the Burmese would not admit their own incompetence. Financial help might be needed later, not immediately. There was nothing to do but support the government, 'in the hope that they will eventually succeed in asserting control, though this may well be a matter of years'.59 Bowker thought a short period of rioting and looting between one government and the next more likely than total chaos. He suggested that, at the request of the government, Britain might introduce a 'small British protective force' of one battalion to protect lives and interests in Rangoon, Syriam, Chauk and Yenangyaung. The move might stimulate communist propaganda, but on balance he favoured it.60 'We must handle this with great care', Bevin enjoined.61 'If there is a long period of complete chaos in Burma', Dening wrote, 'then I think that we are so deficient in military strength that we can only evacuate our nationals and abandon our interests.' But 'we should be very seriously criticised if we were to fail to protect British lives and interests during a short period of disorder'.62 A draft letter to the Ministry of Defence accepted that 'the landing of British troops in a country to which we have so recently granted full independence would be bound to have repercussions'.63 In fact the draft was overruled by Sargent and Bevin. The Colonial Office thought that the situation in Malaya meant that a battalion could not be spared, and if such were sent, 'the effect on public morale in Malaya would be very serious'.64 The COS felt that it would be difficult to contain the commitment and far more than one battalion might be needed.65 Britain could go no further than plan for an emergency

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evacuation by ship, Sargent concluded. 'We really must try and accustom ourselves to the fact that Burma is an independent country and must be treated as such. Whatever the circumstances might be in which we sent British troops to Burma our action would be denounced as [a] piece of British imperialism. This would still be the case even if we were invited in by a panic-stricken Burmese Government. . .'66 Bevin agreed.67 Kyaw Nyein, who became Foreign Minister after Tin Tut's assassination, visited London after attending the UN General Assembly in Paris in October. Before leaving Rangoon, he told the press that his aim was to convince the British government that Burma was not going red, that the Burmese government could control the insurrection if it got arms, that the minorities would receive representation in the government 'within their capabilities', and 'to confer with the other Asiatic members of the United Nations with the object of encouraging the formation of a South East Asian economic and defence bloc in which it was hoped Malaya would be included'. A socialist, he talked of expropriating foreign investments, repaying them with bonds. Perhaps, Bowker thought, the Foreign Office should point out that 'Anglo-Burmese friendship seems a rather one-way affair, with the most benefits going to Burma from Britain'.68 Kyaw Nyein stated that he intended to investigate the rumours that elements among the Karens were being supported by business and others in the UK. He was also thought to be intending to approach the Russians in Paris, to complete the arrangements for an exchange of ambassadors between Burma and the Soviet Union.69 Kyaw Nyein should be told of Britain's desire to help, Grey suggested, evidenced by the financial agreement recently concluded and by the supply of arms. Britain wholly disapproved of any activities on the part of British subjects that fomented rebellion, and British firms saw the Karen revolt as inimical to their interests. Burma's policy made it difficult to defend the treaty, and was persuading British firms that they must move out. Yet cooperation and proper understanding between the two countries was important, 'particularly in view of Soviet intrigues in South-East Asia'. Sir Stafford Cripps told Kyaw Nyein 'that - if they want our moral and material support, as they do - they should make up their minds to give British interests and capital satisfactory guarantees without which no British firm will be able to cooperate with the Burmese Govt'. Cripps had 'the impression that the Burmese bitterly regretted their hurried exit from the British Commonwealth and that if an arrangement were made whereby India stayed in they might well ask to take advantage of it and come back'.70 At a tea party Kyaw Nyein told Rees-Williams that the Burmese were 'looking with great interest at the present developments in the Commonwealth, particularly at the dropping of the name British

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and the association with the new Dominions'. It was, he said, 'what Burma had suggested a year ago'. In Britain, unlike France, he felt 'more or less at home', he added.71 Murray was not persuaded: 'more designed to impress than to convey a truthful impression'; 'eyewash'.72 Mountbatten saw Kyaw Nyein and the ambassador, Ohn, on 26 October. The talk was of returning to the Commonwealth. He hoped Burma would, but said he did not commit the British government.73 Kyaw Nyein and his colleagues, Grey agreed, were less interested in seeking the British government's views than in 'seeking out possible sympathisers and giving the impression that Burma could be the best of friends if only we understood them a little better. They talked to several people in a vague way of the possibility of Burma having a special relationship with the Commonwealth if the Commonwealth itself evolved according to the ideas which they supposed Nehru was trying to put across.' Most issues were avoided, except arms, 'where they were hoping to get something out of us'. Grey hoped that they would have learned 'that Socialism is a subject which requires serious thought and an approach based on what is practicable'. He sympathised with Bowker in his task of 'trying to make sense of what is basically . . . a nonsensical country'.74 Perhaps this lack of sympathy did not arise merely from prejudice, nor even simply from the wayward approach of the Burmans. It may be that it was increased by the sense of disappointment the British felt that their policy in Burma had not produced the stable, moderate, and friendly government they looked for and that they hoped would set an example elsewhere in Southeast Asia. It was, of course, also the case that the FO thought that other departments had mishandled this 'nonsensical' country, handing over yet another problem. Out of evil good might come, however: the idea was emerging that Commonwealth countries might help Burma. That would be valuable in itself and as an example. At the end of 1948, Bowker commented on the impact the triumph of the Chinese communists was likely to have on Burma. If they occupied all China, it would be some time before they had effective control in neighbouring Yunnan. But any increase in their domination over China would give 'moral encouragement to Burmese Communists whose fortunes and prospects at the moment seem to be falling'; facilitate direct contact between Chinese and Burmese communists, possibly leading to material assistance to the latter; weaken the government and the anti-communist forces. In addition Bowker suggested that the Burmese Socialist Party, the tone of which had lately become 'more Communist and pro-Russian', would be more likely to consider coalition with the Burmese communists, hitherto a remote prospect.75

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The second Dutch 'police action' The Foreign Office had been trying to bring the Dutch and the Indonesians together, even though it had declined to mediate. At the end of December 1947, it decided to await the outcome of the GOC's initiative. But the Australians wanted Bevin to bring pressure on the Dutch to take 'a more conciliatory line'.76 John Beasley, the Australian High Commissioner, told the Foreign Secretary that Kirby was despondent. Bevin agreed to suggest that Sargent should warn the Dutch of the danger in the Chinese situation, 'an argument for setting South East Asia into proper order as soon as possible so that it at least would be outside the sphere of any possible troubles arising from Communist progress in China and elsewhere'. The Dutch should seek a settlement that would leave the Indonesians 'well disposed to them', instead of following 'an early twentieth century policy'. The message should be delivered in the setting of Bevin's 'general ideas about the consolidation of Western Europe, having in mind the approach which he intends to make to the Dutch in the near future'.77 The threat of communism, earlier used by the Dutch, could thus be turned on them. The main aim was to secure a reconciliation of Dutch and Indonesians, which would support the regional approach in Southeast Asia, now even more important. At the same time the reconciliation was a European policy. Britain's relations with the Netherlands would be easier to consolidate if they were not at odds in Southeast Asia. Their importance, however, might help the Dutch to stand out for their approach. Like the argument over communism, it could be double-edged. In the event the GOC initiative was successful, and a new truce was signed on 17 January 1948. Dening thought Sargent might still speak to Michiels, expressing the hope that the way was open for political settlement. There was 'a time factor in the consolidation of South East Asia'. The communists might overrun China. 'If that were to happen it would have a profound influence on all the South East Asian territories, where there are large Chinese communities, and the danger of infection would be very great. If, however, settled government had been restored in South East Asian territories, then they will be in a better position to resist communist penetration.' If the Dutch suppressed the republic to the extent that the independence movement were driven underground, 'we might expect it to prove a constant source of trouble in the years to come'. Sargent, however, decided not to speak to Michiels on the point.78 The truce agreement, signed on board the Renville, provided for a status quo line, with demilitarised zones along it. Though there were difficulties, the agreement worked better than expected. But the outline

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political agreement that accompanied the truce agreement was not implemented. The Dutch pressed ahead with provisional federal institutions and with new states like Madura and Pasundan, and there was little progress in establishing economic links between the republic and the rest of Indonesia.79 The republic wanted a complete understanding on the form of a USI before discussion of the transitional measures. 'Indonesian delegation motivated by conviction other states merely false faces for Netherlands with whom all issues should . . . be settled before Republic loses bargaining position.'80 'This is all playing into Russian hands', Bevin wrote in May.81 The Foreign Office began to feel its way again towards intervening. The Dutch saw Indonesia as 'a Dutch-directed country', any parliament 'a children's Parliament'. The republicans wanted Dutch technical assistance, but wished to run Indonesia in their own way. If deadlock were reached, the options included: recommendations by the GOC, which the Russians would render impractical; arbitration, which the Dutch would find it difficult to accept; military action, though no evidence of it was apparent. Bevin was against 'our taking any part in the dispute except insofar as we are called upon to do as members of the Security Council'. But what if deadlock arises? Perhaps, Shepherd suggested, the difficulty over the GOC and over arbitration could be dodged by authorising the members to give advice personally or on behalf of their countries, rather than on behalf of the UN.82 Bentinck of the Netherlands embassy wanted Britain to reject an expansion of the powers of the GOC.83 At the same time the Australians wanted the British to persuade the Dutch to 'take a more far-sighted and generous view'. Grey recalled their earlier approach. Now he suggested, along Shepherd's lines, that the Dutch should be invited to agree that the GOC should be allowed, without changing its terms of reference, 'something approaching arbitral powers over questions which cannot be solved by direct discussions between the parties.'84 The British were not in a good position to approach the Dutch, but decided to sound the State Department on the idea.85 The US was opposed to it, though it shared the wish to avoid controversy at the UN. The State Department would contest the view that the Dutch had been 'hard and unyielding', and thought their rights of sovereignty should not be whittled away in the interim period. Nor were they certain that the new GOC plan for resolving the deadlock through the election of a constituent assembly was, strictly speaking, a committee report; rather it was 'a proposal designed by Critchley and concurred in by [Graham's successor] DuBois'.86 The State Department appears to have thought the British were intervening in specific support of the Critchley/DuBois proposals.87 In fact that was not the case. When DuBois and Critchley put

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them forward to the two parties on their own responsibility88 - thus acting as Shepherd had suggested considering that they might R. C. Mackworth Young at the FO was apprehensive lest unintended publicity destroyed all Dutch confidence in the GOC.89 'Judging by the performance of present and past Republican governments, a government of the United States of Indonesia formed on the basis of this plan would soon reduce the country to a political and economic nonsense.'90 Indeed Grey was beginning to think Britain's policy might have to be reviewed. If there were a breakdown in Batavia, there would be a move for action in the Security Council, and in adopting a line the British would be 'divided between our policy of Western Union and our interests in South East Asia and in the field of relations with the Dominions'. The position in Southeast Asia itself was 'deteriorating, with the increase in the tension between India and Pakistan, and with the new and distinctly pro-Communist look which Burma is rapidly acquiring'. In 1947 it was 'obviously wise to urge the Dutch to make a settlement with the Indonesians which would have . . . ensured their continued influence, if in revised terms, in the East Indies'. After the delay and the police action, a settlement regarded by the Indonesians as a victory might, 'with the Burmese defection as an example', mean the loss of virtually all Western control over the islands. 'We should certainly look silly if, having contrived a Dutch withdrawal, Indonesia followed the Burmese pattern.'91 'We may blame the Dutch for refusing to take their opportunity but our policy now must be directed towards a new situation.'92 Sargent endorsed this.93 The Foreign Office was, however, anxious that talks continue, including those between Van Mook and Hatta, of which DuBois had been apprehensive. It would help at the Security Council: the Dutch, said Cadogan, did not seem able or willing to appreciate the strength of feeling in the council against them or the difficulty of the task which they set their friends.94 The State Department also indicated that it expected that all suggestions made by the GOC, including the DuBoisCritchley ones, should be carefully considered by the parties.95 'It is an excellent thing that the S. Department are taking an interest now', Grey wrote.96 In fact it was unlikely, H. N. Boon thought, that any progress could be made before the Dutch elections on 7 July.97 Nothing could save Indonesia from disturbance, insecurity and sabotage of estates, Shepherd wrote while on leave in the UK, except 'a political agreement which will suffice to induce the Republic to exercise, in favour of peace and stability, the authority which they have shown they can wield if necessary'.98 Fearing violence might be exploited by the communists, and noting that the Ukraine and the Soviet Union would be chairing the Security Council, the Foreign Office looked for results

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from the Van Mook-Hatta exchanges, and, failing that, to a new approach by a revivified GOC." The State Department agreed and was replacing the ailing DuBois.100 The delay in the negotiations meant that 'the hope of an eventual settlement' had dwindled, Shepherd wrote, while the Republican government was finding it increasingly difficult to control the 'idle' Republican army. Conditions could worsen and lead to a resumption of police action and 'the collapse of any hopes of a stable and friendly settlement in the near future'. The main difficulty for the Republicans was the Dutch insistence that the army be disbanded in advance of the creation of a provisional government: they could not accept that, or the loss of the powers of foreign representation they claimed, without 'some very definite guarantee of a degree of independence with which they would be satisfied'. The Dutch rejected the DuBois-Critchley proposals. They said the elections could not be 'free and uncoerced'; but they were holding elections in Madura and West Java. They also claimed that Java would dominate: that was likely, given its population, but it could be checked by the provision of a second chamber and by the need of a federal government for contributions from outside Java. Revised proposals could, however, be developed. A delineation commission could recommend boundaries; a constituent assembly and a provisional government could be nominated; substantial powers could be transferred and a date fixed for the creation of the USI; elections held after one year; an opt-out provision included; an Indonesian-Dutch agreement reached on defence. The Dutch government could not make farreaching decisions pending the outcome of the elections, and it would need a two-thirds majority for a constitutional amendment to cover the creation of the USI. The opportunity might be taken to press the Dutch to suggest proposals, perhaps through the GOC, and indicate that something like this was reasonable. Chifley was about to visit. He should be told that recriminations were pointless. What was wanted was cooperation in securing the adoption of practical and constructive proposals.101 The Foreign Office adopted this view. 'Our interest has always been to promote a settlement which would satisfy legitimate Indonesian aspirations towards self-government without displacing the Dutch from their position of influence in the area.' The Dutch had the experience to contribute to its prosperity and stability, but had missed each opportunity for a settlement. The Republicans remained 'deeply suspicious' and lacked experience, and internal dissensions accentuated 'their natural oriental tendency to avoid reaching decisions'. A compromise was essential, lest stalemate led to guerrilla warfare. But 'we must avoid a situation in which, owing to a too hasty transfer of full power in an

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atmosphere of mutual bitterness, yet another area of unrest is created leading to local chaos and an increase in the general instability of South East Asia'.102 Krishna Menon, the Indian High Commissioner in London, suspected British policy was changing as a result of Western Union.103 Bevin mentioned India's view, and also Australia's, in talks with Beel in The Hague. He thought the Dutch should try to convince moderate Australian opinion of their liberal intentions. The British parliament, he added, backed the government's strong action against the terrorists in Malaya because it had previously introduced constitutional reform. 'Until the Netherlands Government had introduced constitutional reform in Indonesia, it would not be possible for him to secure sympathy in Parliament for any strong action by the Dutch in Indonesia.' The communists had got Manchuria, would soon have Korea, were enjoying great successes in China. 'It was important that the South East Asia area should be secure to the Western Powers and that the populations of this area should look to them and not to Soviet Russia for their prosperity and security. This was an additional reason for settling the Indonesian problem quickly.' Beel asked about lifting the arms embargo. Bevin said he could not ask parliament to agree until constitutional reforms had been introduced. But that did not preclude supply of 'a few spare parts or uniforms' from Singapore.104 Dr Evatt called on Bevin soon after. The Australians still sought a change in the Dutch attitude.105 Bevin told Evatt of his conversation with Beel and said he had expressed anxiety over 'the long delay in settling the Indonesian problem, because if there were a world crisis in the Far East it was absolutely essential that South East Asia should be a settled area'.106 John Burton favoured more pressure on the Dutch, even sanctions.107 This had no support in the Foreign Office. 'The Australians regard the Dutch as to blame and refuse to recognise the shortcomings of the Republicans. They suspect us of having modified our Indonesian policy since Western Union. But fundamentally they and we have the same objective viz: that the Indonesians should have a square deal and that a settlement should be reached before the situation deteriorates further.' Indeed Western Union increased Britain's desire for a settlement, 'because Western Union will make a false impression in Asia until Dutch colonial policy there is in line with ours'.108 Bevin saw Evatt again and suggested that a collaborative effort by the Western powers might secure a settlement.109 As he told Evatt, and as he had promised Beel, Bevin had approached Pakistan, and indicated that republican demands should be modified. Habib Rahimtoola, the High Commissioner, had told Philip Noel-Baker that he saw the Indonesian question 'as a dangerous dispute which

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might give Russia an opportunity to develop the hostility of an Asiatic nation against Europeans'.110 Bevin agreed: the republicans must be reasonable.111 The Cabinet suggested a similar approach to India.112 Rather than use Menon, a prime ministerial message was sent through the High Commissioner in New Delhi. Burma, Malaya, Indonesia all invited communist infiltration and civil war, making Southeast Asia like China. Bevin had urged the Dutch to be reasonable: could the republic be prompted to be moderate?113 'The main impediment to a solution so far has been the refusal of the Dutch to recognise the strength of nationalism amongst all dependent peoples in Asia', Sir G. Bajpai reported Nehru as replying, 'and their misplaced but persistent faith in the use of armed force and economic coercion'. He would instruct the Indian consul-general to influence the republicans to consider any new Dutch proposals in a conciliatory way; but threat and blockade must be abandoned.114 Pakistan in fact also wanted the Dutch to modify their policy.115 One reason, L. J. D. Wakeley thought, might be 'her reluctance to be eclipsed by India . . . as a champion of Asia'.116 Further pressure on the Dutch was a counterpart. Even the French were asked, though they might feel 'too vulnerable'.117 They agreed to urge moderation, adding that it would be a mistake to raise the issue in the Security Council, where the debate might stray on to Malaya, Burma, and Indo-China.118 They had 'always managed' to keep Indo-China off the agenda, Palliser noted.119 The Belgian Prime Minister, P.-H. Spaak, apprehensive of giving the Russians an opportunity, also undertook to see the Dutch Foreign Minister.120 The US State Department was putting together a new package for H. Merle Cochran, who was to replace DuBois: it modified the earlier proposals. Sir Oliver Franks, the British ambassador, said the State Department shared Bevin's concern that the area should not fall under Russian influence. 'They recognise that a political settlement in which both the Dutch and the Indonesians with nationalist aspirations participated would deprive the Communists of their most useful weapon.'121 Bevin asked if the Cochran plan had been mentioned to Evatt.122 The latter saw it, approved it, and said he would try to persuade the Dutch to settle with Hatta.123 If the Dutch did not accept Cochran's plan or a similar one on the lines of the Indian interim government, J. O. Lloyd wrote, 'the result will be chaos, and the overthrow of the Hatta Govt. by the Communists'. The Americans had 'a trump card' in Marshall aid for Indonesia - announced at $50 million - 'which they can use with the Dutch if they want to'.124 Political frustration and economic hardship in the republic were helping the left-wing, and so was the shift in international communism. Early in August the Dutch Minister, Baron Bentinck, told Dening that

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the provisional government felt justified 'in taking measures to check communist activity. The danger that the Malay outbursts might spread to Indonesia is far from imaginative . . . ' The measures would not be 'used as a weapon against the Republic of Indonesia as such', but republican agents working with communist cells would be affected. The measures would contribute to dealing with the communists in Malaya, who received help from those in Indonesia.125 The Dutch had an 'unfailing capacity . . . to choose the wrong moment', Dening thought: the Soviet member was President of the Security Council in August. He also told Bentinck the situation in Malaya was different: 'the communists had decided to try to seize power by violence and this had simplified the position for us, since it had made it clear that we were suppressing communism and not Malayan nationalism. As a result, we had the population of Malaya behind us in the steps we were taking.' In Indonesia, on the other hand, it seemed possible that 'the Republicans might themselves take action against the extreme Left'. The Dutch might give the impression they said they wished to avoid, 'namely that they were forging a weapon to attack the Republic'.126 The growing tension led to apprehension in Washington and in London that Hatta might be overthrown. The Dutch might use the occasion for further police action, justifying it by reference to Malaya, and thus risk mobilising world opinion against them. Or, if negotiations collapsed, they might try to create a USI without the republic; 'but the danger is that they may take precipitate action without seeking beforehand to put themselves in the right.'127 Bentinck thought that Hatta might appeal to the Dutch if the communists attempted his overthrow,128 an idea that reflected the Dutch belief that moderates could be found to work with them on their terms. Dening told Bentinck that the Dutch should reach agreement with Hatta before the communists overthrew him: 'this would put the Dutch in a much better position before the world if subsequently they were faced with a communist-controlled Republic.'129 The Dutch were not prepared to boost Hatta, Shepherd thought: they watched for civil war or communist victory either of which might justify intervention.130 Neher, the Dutch Minister of Reconstruction, had thought that the communists would not risk a showdown at this point, but Shepherd fancied Muso, suddenly returning from the Soviet Union and taking over the party, might force the pace.131 He was the better prophet. The communists seized Madiun.132 'The Dutch would surely be well-advised to help the Hatta Govt. resist the communist threat, rather than let the communists gain power and then find a long and destructive guerilla war on their hands', Palliser commented.133 Van Mook offered aid. Hatta would not accept Dutch help.134 Ignoring Sjarifuddin's acceptance of

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Renville, Muso had declared that Sukarno and Hatta had 'executed a capitulation policy to the Dutch and the British, and at this very moment they are going to sell out Indonesia to the American imperialists'.135 Menon told Attlee that Dutch intervention on the pretext of combating communism would mean the end of republican moderation. 'The Republican Government would be facing a situation similar to what prevails in Burma and Malaya.'136 Attlee agreed. The Dutch had been urged to settle while the republic could restrain extremists, and warned that action against the communists would be misinterpreted as an attempt to suppress the republic and invite nationalist opposition.137 The Dutch, Grey noted, were 'extremely unamenable to direct influence'.138 They had, as it were, missed their moment, as Dening thought. 'If govt. can quell this uprising, it will be in much stronger position internally and for negotiations; if it cannot, it will either disintegrate or require immediate assistance from outside.'139 The republic proved able to deal with the communists without the Dutch.140 That, moreover, encouraged the Americans to adopt a more favourable view of their cause. That trend had, however, already been developing over the previous weeks. To that change the British could contribute only in a limited way. At the same time, they kept up their diplomatic pressure on the main parties concerned. They were not fully informed of the Cochran plan. But Grey thought that advantageous: 'our intervention would probably prolong the discussions since the Dutch might like to try to play us off against the Americans.' Bevin was advised that, if he were to speak to the Dutch Foreign Minister in Paris, he should simply say that he welcomed the Dutch-American discussions that were going on 'and that he thinks it vital for the Dutch to make progress if the communist movement in Java is to be prevented from overthrowing the Republican Government and producing chaos'.141 Dirk Stikker told Bevin that the outstanding difference between the viewpoint of the Americans and that of the Dutch was that the former wanted elections for a constituent assembly at once, while the latter wanted to appoint federal nominees for a year. Bevin agreed to study the papers, in case he could help the Americans and the Dutch to reach agreement.142 He referred the matter back to London. There Grey thought Bevin could suggest that Cochran might be able to devise a compromise. Even apart from the elections there were other points, he added: the powers of the Crown representative; the control over the federal forces; the disposal of the republic army, which was a problem, as in Burma.143 Bevin asked Marshall if the Americans might go some way towards meeting the Dutch over elections. The American GOC members, Graham and DuBois, Marshall replied, had felt they did not get strong enough State Department backing. Now Cochran, his military advisers,

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and the department unanimously felt 'that the Dutch had been indulging throughout in a deliberate delaying procedure', of which the doubt about elections was but a part. 'His preliminary feeling was that the recent Communist outbreak had changed the situation in Indonesia in so far as there was now a clear demarkation between the Communists and the Republicans.' Bevin agreed that the Dutch had 'indulged in delaying tactics'. He told Marshall that he had 'tried to get South East Asia out of trouble by a policy of gradual constitutional development. Our troubles in Malaya were due to Communists and we were dealing with them successfully. We had recognised Marshal Pibun in Siam to avoid civil disturbances there. There were difficulties in Burma and in regard to Kashmir but he thought that these would be settled.' Now he was concerned about 'the Communist peril' in Indonesia. Could the UK and the US 'concert their attitude in the Security Council and see whether we could not meet the Dutch on this one point of the elections to enable Mr Stikker to get the proposals through the Dutch Parliament?' Marshall agreed that officials could meet to work out a common policy.144 That final undertaking does not appear in the American record. Grey analysed the Dutch and American plans. The latter provided for a Crown representative, with the power to declare a state of emergency subject to permission of President or Prime Minister and to veto any act of the federal assembly that contravened the agreement; a government, including President, Prime Minister, and Cabinet; a federal council, representing each state, the republic having one-third of the seats; and a federal representative assembly, its representatives elected according to population distribution. The Dutch plan accepted this framework, but by postponing the elections, by replacing the assembly with a nominated body, and by other changes, it ensured that the real power would lie with the Crown representative or the federal council, where the small states would hold the balance of power. The Dutch plan also provided that the Crown representative could declare an emergency after consulting the government, but not necessarily with its assent, and should have greater control over federal armed powers: it did not provide for separate state militias. Shepherd, who had not seen the Dutch plan, considered that the Cochran plan left the Dutch less influence in the transitional period than they could reasonably expect. He thought that the federal council might have wider powers, and believed the republic might agree to postpone elections.145 Shepherd had discussed the controversial points with Cochran, who was apparently ready to accept amendments.146 The State Department, Franks reported, was 'disposed to press Dutch towards a solution of the problem', and wanted Britain's 'cooperation in urging a speeding up of

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their negotiations with Hatta, especially as the apparent failure of Communist coup offers a favourable opportunity for compromise with Republicans'.147 Its views seemed more like the Foreign Office's 'than we had supposed', Grey noted. The exchanges between Cochran and Shepherd meant the expert discussion could be postponed, he thought,148 and the State Department agreed.149 The Dutch must be urged once more to hasten negotiations, and not subject them to 'unrealistic conditions'. A Dutch note to Cochran had demanded that, before negotiations began, the republic should publicly repudiate truce infringements, subversive activities, and illegal trade in opium and arms, and undertake measures against communist activity. 'It is difficult to conceive, as Mr Cochran observes, any step less appropriate to the circumstances or better calculated to make further discussions impossible.'150 Reports Nehru had from Batavia suggested that Dutch amendments to the Cochran plan were not acceptable to the republic. Shepherd had the impression that the Dutch intended to establish an interim government 'on their own lines' in November and would not be disappointed if the republic did not participate. In The Hague there was 'renewed talk' of the need for 'further police action', given that elements of the republican army were penetrating Dutch lines. That, the Foreign Office insisted, would be 'disastrous'. In Malaya 'the nationalist movement is on our side in opposing the communists. Resort to force in Indonesia, however defended, would throw the nationalists into the arms of the communists, whom they have hitherto fought not unsuccessfully. It would finally destroy Dutch prestige in South-East Asia and would seriously affect our own position there and our relations with members of the Commonwealth.' Sargent thought Bevin should speak to Stikker on this. He might also say that establishing a government without republican participation would be regarded as 'a final challenge' and might result in civil war.151 Bevin advised the Dutch Foreign Minister against 'any action which might lead to renewed war'.152 He also told Marshall that he was 'rather worried about the American proposal to hold early elections',153 while in London Lloyd and Mackworth Young urged Subandrio, the republic's representative there, that the best course was to join the interim government.154 To Nehru Bevin expressed confidence that the problem could be solved by negotiation, 'just as the problem between Great Britain and India had been solved'.155 But Shepherd was anxious. 'The Dutch officials here have always been very reluctant to admit any virtues in the Republican Government and . . . they have refused to give Hatta and Sukarno any credit for dealing with Muso's revolt.' Shepherd thought that the Dutch would resume negotiations, 'find an excuse for reaching

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a deadlock', then set up an interim government without the republicans. 'They anticipate a resultant situation in the Republic which would lead the interim Government to ask for the help of Dutch troops in restoring order and they would expect a serious measure of support for this action from inside the Republic.'156 T think it will be bad for all of us if they start a prolonged struggle', Bevin wrote.157 Stikker went to Yogya. That, Mackworth Young thought, gave Hatta an opportunity to enter the government without too great a loss of prestige. 'There is a good chance that he will seize it. If not, we may expect renewed police action pretty soon.'158 Shepherd thought it was a 'faint hope'. When the Bandung conference of the states that the Dutch had been setting up began in July, it seemed possible both federalists and republicans would support a common plan for a provisional government. It was not clear when they parted company or whether they were encouraged to do so by the Dutch. Certainly a large part of Indonesia did not want to be dominated by Javanese and Sumatran politicians. The Dutch were led to back an arrangement between themselves and the federalists in which the republic would be invited to participate. Then Cochran seized the initiative, although much of the Dutch plan was incorporated in amendments to his. None of this, however, meant agreement was impossible or further military action inevitable. Possibly 'the excitement in Holland about Communist developments in Malaya . . . started the process of convincing the Dutch that military action would be necessary in Indonesia in order to scotch Communist danger there'. They were 'sour' about the success of the republic in putting down the Muso revolt, and now feared Tan Malaka's group. Their attitude to the republic had hardened, though on no 'sufficiently cogent' ground.159 The Stikker initiative brightened the prospect for agreement, Mackworth Young suggested; but it forced Dutch hands if none were reached, and made GOC mediation superfluous.160 Nehru expressed concern about police action.161 He was told that there was no indication of it so far. He was also told that action in the Security Council would destroy the last chance of agreement in Batavia.162 Sargent counselled Bajpai along the same lines. Grey was apprehensive lest the republican government, if driven out by Dutch, were allowed to function in India: that would 'present us with extremely awkward problems'.163 The news, Grey persuaded himself, was improving, with agreement on the postponement of elections and discussion on the form and composition of an interim government. In a broadcast on 17 November, Hatta reaffirmed the republic's desire to cooperate with the federalists:164 that, as Mackworth Young said, made the Dutch nervous, as it deprived them of arguments for delay in coming to an agreement with the republic.165

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The main questions seemed to be the integration of the army and command over it in the interim period. On the latter, Sir Philip Nichols reported from The Hague, Stikker could not yield and the integration of whole units could not be accepted. The Foreign Minister wanted US and UK support in securing a satisfactory compromise from the republic, as he was himself fighting against diehards.166 'We were faced with a similar situation in Burma after the liberation when we could not disband the P.V.A. [PVO]', Grey noted. Dening thought it was a 'very tricky' problem. The republic would not want to dispose of 'a trump card'.167 The Foreign Office suggested that Shepherd might urge the republic to meet the Dutch on the two points, but wanted to know more precisely what Stikker was suggesting.168 It was in this context that Shepherd commented, as the Foreign Office requested, on the impact on Indonesia that communist success in China was likely to have. The morale and prestige of the communists in Indonesia would be strengthened. Following the failure of Muso's revolt, those who remained aloof aimed at participation in government as the proletarian party. 'Their converts will be increased in proportion to the extent of the Communist gains in China and decreased in proportion to the satisfaction afforded by a political settlement, if one can be reached.' If it were, the communists might 'follow the Indian rather than the Burmese pattern'. The remedy against undue communist influence was a 'reasonable political settlement' including the republic and the return of prosperity.169 Despite some optimism in the South East Asia Department, the negotiations broke down in early December, the issue being the command over the armed forces in Indonesia during the interim government. The Dutch wanted the High Commissioner to have final authority in an emergency; the republic wanted him to be in a position to declare a state of emergency only in agreement with the interim government. Constitutionally the Dutch were correct: the Crown representative should have the power while the Netherlands had sovereignty, but he would be unwise to use the power against the wishes of the interim government. It would, Lloyd thought, be 'tragic' if the attempt to reach a solution were abandoned. The Dutch were now likely to set up an interim government without the republic as early as 15 December. Cochran had urged the State Department to suggest a delay till 1 January and renewed talks meanwhile. If it acted, the British also should act at The Hague.170 Dening thought Britain should act anyway. 'In the light of events in China, we have a special interest to see that the situation is not upset in South East Asia.' He thought the Republicans were in practice 'sufficiently safeguarded'. If the High Commissioner urged the Federal Indonesian Army to use force in defiance of the provisional government, 'the

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odds would be that his orders would be disobeyed'.171 It would be 'an act of idiocy'.172 Sargent therefore advocated some 'pressure' on the republicans.173 Explain Britain's hopes that the Republicans will not 'insist too much on shadow when in fact they appear to have the substance', Shepherd was told.174 The telegram to Nichols used the China argument. A communist triumph there would give 'considerable impetus' to the communist movement throughout Southeast Asia. The resources of the Western powers there were limited, and the cooperation of the Asiatic peoples was essential. The nationalist movements must be 'on our side'. The difficult task of creating 'a general resistance to Communism' in Southeast Asia would be 'immeasurably more difficult' if hostilities were resumed in Indonesia.175 The State Department went further. It indicated that if no settlement were reached it would have to inform the Security Council that it considered the draft 'fair', 'practical' and consonant with Renville, and if the opportunity for settlement were lost, it might have to withdraw from the GOC and resume its freedom of action.176 A reference to cutting-off of the European Recovery Program (ERP) aid had been removed.177 The Dutch reaction, even so, was 'one of pained and angry surprise',178 and the US memorandum was 'toned down'.179 The charge, Loyd Steere, urged a further concession, lest the government was either spurred into setting up the interim government or itself fell.180 The same message came from Nichols. A. H. J. Lovink of the Dutch Foreign Office wanted an intimation to the republic that it must make concessions on the two points at issue: the retention of Dutch sovereignty in the interim period, and the disposal of the republic army.181 Britain was not prepared to go so far as to intimate to the republican government that it would 'disinterest' itself in the Indonesian situation if it did not give way on the two issues. There was, however, 'a great deal to be said for the Dutch point of view', and the Dutch could not be urged to give way: 'if there is to be any settlement it is the Republicans who will have to concede them.' What was really needed was to set up the provisional federal government as soon as possible and include the republic.182 At Bevin's instance, the British tried to involve the Indians in getting the republicans to compromise.183 The Dutch, however, did as Steere feared: they announced that agreement was impossible and that they were by the 'BIO' decree proceeding to establish an interim federal government.184 Mackworth Young thought the 'consternation' caused by the US aide-memoire was 'partly instrumental' in provoking this communique.185 That made the position 'immeasurably more difficult', as Dening pointed out.186 But, urged by Nichols,187 the Foreign Office decided that the issues remained the same.188

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The Counsellor at the embassy in Washington presented the British views to the State Department. There, however, the position in Indonesia did not seem like that in India. The British government had been in control and able to make concessions. In Indonesia the nationalists, virtually independent for three years, were being called on for concessions. 'Department officers recalled deep-seated Repub fear Neth would use supreme military power to eliminate all non-subservient nationalist elements.' The Dutch government would have to give assurance that its power would be used 'for purely constructive ends with purpose turning over full powers govt soonest to Indos', in the way Mountbatten had, and that it would not victimise republicans.189 The British decided to act. They told Nichols that, if the Dutch were ready to give assurances over victimisation, they would instruct Shepherd to urge the republicans to concede the two points and express readiness to join the provisional government.190 The British, alleging urgency, were perhaps also trying to diminish the impact of the US approach on the Dutch. Cochran had urged the State Department to proceed with the steps in the aide-memoire. He believed that the Dutch had used delaying tactics throughout and that they had always wanted to impose a 'unilateral decision', and regretted it was not possible to 'cut off American funds'.191 He again went to Yogya, however, and as a result Hatta wrote a letter.192 'While recognising Dutch sovereignty during the interim period the letter adds that the Dutch should voluntarily impose certain standards in exercising it.' It indicated, too, that there was no intention of seeking the incorporation of the republican army as such in the federal forces. There was no point in further representations to the republic, Shepherd concluded. 'There is nothing more to be got out of them and we might well do more harm than good.'193 The State Department thought the letter 'extremely important',194 and 'most constructive', and suggested Cochran might discuss it with Shepherd.195 The Foreign Office told Nichols that it made it more desirable for the Dutch to issue a 'reassuring' statement. If the Dutch ignored the letter, there was 'a distinct danger that opinion will turn against them'.196 Catholics in the Dutch Cabinet advocated an ultimatum to the republic and police action if it did not concede all the points at issue. Drees and Stikker were played out, and Batavia wanted early action.197 Hatta's letter was seen as merely personal and not a basis for discussions. What was needed was a binding declaration on incorporating the republic in the federal structure on the same footing as other areas, and a recognition of the position of the high representative as in the BIO decree.198 Nichols saw Drees. Representations by the US and UK would be useful if made immediately.199 The Foreign Office regretted the 'unconciliatory' approach of the Dutch, but instructed Shepherd to

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express the hope to the republicans that they would find it possible to clarify Hatta's statement and to confirm that it was official.200 In The Hague, however, Lovink had set a 24-hour deadline for the republic's reply.201 That passing, the second police action began. Sukarno, Hatta, Sjahrir, and half of the republic's Cabinet were quickly captured.202 'Quite a strong case' could be made to show that the Dutch had never since July 1947 had any real intention of coming to terms with the republic, Shepherd had written. They had hoped the police action started that month would prompt the republic to do so, a hope brought to naught by the encouragement given it by the Security Council's actions. Van Mook never believed that the republican leaders could carry out an agreement, even if they made it, and Dutch participation in the GOC negotiations was never genuine. In a negative spirit the Dutch proceeded to encourage non-republican areas to set up self-governing regimes with the object of creating a federal government on Tines convenient to themselves', and hoped this would 'weaken the Republican spirit throughout Indonesia'. They also instituted 'what amounted to a complete blockade of Republican territory'. They 'evaded the creation of an atmosphere favourable to negotiation by the tone of official speeches' and by their attitude to the Security Council. They gave no credit to the Hatta government for dealing with the communist revolt. When, after that, and the production of the Cochran plan, 'world opinion considered the time was ripe for an agreement', the Dutch sent out their Foreign Minister, 'not in a genuine endeavour to find a solution, but as a demonstration of the lengths they wished to appear prepared to go to find one. His real task was to prepare for the exclusion of the Republic from the proposed provisional Federal Government in the manner best calculated to impose on world opinion.' When world opinion hailed their gesture as likely to lead to a solution, they wrecked it by the announcement of 11 December. Shepherd did not go all the way with such an indictment. Negotiations had gone on in an atmosphere of complete mutual mistrust, 'hopelessness' among the Dutch and 'oriental shiftiness' among the republicans. That led to 'corresponding irritation and eventually pessimism' among emissaries from The Hague. 'Nor were matters improved by the conviction of Dutch Military, Naval, and to a large extent commercial circles, that the only rational solution to the problem lay in the renewed use of force.' Shepherd did not, however, think it fair to ascribe 'so doublefaced a policy' to Vredenburch or Neher, Stikker or Drees.203 The Dutch government, Steere had written, was 'a strange collection of bedfellows composed as it is of elements from all social structures and of all religious and political concepts, except communism'.204 Such a government characteristically found it difficult to follow a policy of

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compromise. Its policies might rather be a series of formulations and illconcealed ambiguities. Nor was it in a good position to restrain local or military authorities with no such constraints upon them. The British had themselves enjoyed limited success. Their more divided colonialist colleagues enjoyed even less. Yet there was a consistency in Dutch actions, as in French; they retained the 'deux coups defusiV view: force could be applied, to remove extremists and promote collaboration. It was an old-fashioned view. Force now had the reverse effect. Whatever illusions clouded the views of the British - and Dening and others talked of the 'Oriental' mind - they did not share this one. Yet Stikker spoke like Van Mook. He told Baruch he had confidence in Hatta, 'and feels that eventually and ere long a new government will emerge . . . headed by Hatta and other conservative elements'. The present action would result in the 'elimination of hotheads and obstructionists', the emergence of 'genuinely democratic government' in the republic, cooperation with the federalists and the formation of interim government. The decision to act, he added, was 'reached only after much painstaking thought and in the light of their over 300 years' experience in Indonesia'.205 The recognition of Pibun Despite his growing belief that Britain would have to accept the fait accompli in Thailand, Palliser favoured a further attempt to exclude Pibun from power. Otherwise the opposition to him would 'fizzle out', and he would entrench himself, as in 1938; or Thamrong would in fact start trouble, and Pibun would seize power. A concerted indication that the US, the UK and France would have nothing to do with the new government till he retired 'might help the decent elements in Siam'. What was wanted was 'a firm and honest Government such as the new one . . .; yet one with which Admiral Thamrong and Nai Pridi can achieve a reconciliation. If we sit on the fence much longer we may miss our opportunity.'206 If the elections produced an assembly that supported the new government, Thompson argued, Britain could not 'indefinitely . . . dodge the issue of recognition'. If the Cabinet remained much the same, it would be 'very much to our interest to establish official relations with them without worrying too much about Pibun'. Treated as pariahs, the government - experienced, honest, efficient - would fall apart and be replaced by 'less desirable elements'. With the current Cabinet, Pibun was not 'a menace to foreign interests. But if these men give way to the ex-dictator's pals, then we can look out for squalls.'207 The ambassador continued thus to aim for stability: restrain Thamrong, do not press too

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hard against Pibun, accept the new government. Maybe he was mindful of the extent to which British pressure had damaged the Free Thai governments. Stanton, Thompson later added, in fact agreed with his view: if the election demonstrated support for the new regime, and a good Cabinet emerged, 'it will be desirable then to consider the renewal of official relations without worrying too much about the influence which in such case Pibun is bound to continue to exert, irrespective of whether he is actually or ostensibly out of the Government machine'.208 Palliser disagreed. 'It is not only, nor even primarily, on moral grounds that we have to fear a return to power by Pibun. Our own practical interests, the furtherance of British commercial activity, the export of rice etc, would . . . suffer from the unrest and disorder which any regime dominated by the military would undoubtedly produce.' If the Cabinet was in office after the election, recognition would be desirable; but if Pibun were in his present position, it would encourage him. Britain should secure American cooperation to get him, as earlier promised, to retire into private life.209 Grey spoke to Drumright at the US embassy in London. He thought that the attitude of the UK and the US was already clear: 'any more formal action might place us in difficulties later if the Marshal remained in power. I said I saw his point. We did not want to have another Franco situation.' No further action seemed possible at present. 'We ought certainly to be able to hold the position until the elections and what we do then . . . must depend upon the situation which emerges thereafter. . .'21° In the election on 29 January the Democrats secured a majority, and Thompson thought Khuang would head a well-disposed government. Britain, Palliser argued, should have its policy on recognition ready, agreed upon if possible with the US, France, Australia, which had indicated its interest, and perhaps with India and China. Were the elections sufficiently honest to discount the coup and the fact that the new provisional constitution - which had made the upper house into a nominated body211 - was not particularly democratic? Little time was allowed for opposition nominations; but the Right is Might party did not do well. The other factor was 'our attitude to Pibun'. If he retired, he would remain an influence, but it would be a loss of face for him and 'a boost for the morale of the more constitutionally minded Siamese'. If the UK, the US and France all declared they would not recognise the regime until Pibun retired, it might have some effect. But 'such an attitude could really only be one of bluff on a long-term basis and if Pibun called our bluff, we might be forced in the circumstances in the end to back down and recognise the new Government'.212

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In the elections, the Democrats secured 50 out of 100 seats in the lower house, and the new government was likely to be headed by Khuang. Pibun had reverted from C-in-C of all the armed forces to C-in-C Army, and it was 'doubtful whether anybody will be in a position to dislodge him'. Dening did not think any useful purpose would be served by continuing non-recognition after the government was established on 19 February: it only hampered contacts. He had consulted Direk. He hoped that recognition might be delayed till a new constitution had been prepared, but that might take three months, too long. Pibun no longer had the backing of the old Axis, and, having 'backed the wrong horse', was 'anxious to please'. Perhaps an informal enquiry might be made as to Pibun's position when the new government took office, 'as a hint that we still regard him with some suspicion'. It was possible that the Soviet Union would refuse recognition: 'so much the better'. Bevin agreed.213 Thompson had reported that Stanton was in favour; and he himself thought that it would promote political stability.214 The French were also in favour.215 Inverchapel was instructed to put the Foreign Office view to the State Department. A hint might be given about Pibun. But friendly relations were likely to be jeopardised by indefinite persistence in nonrecognition; whereas, with recognition, pressure could be exercised through the normal diplomatic channel if the government acted in a manner inconsistent with its obligations.216 The Americans agreed,217 and so did the Chinese.218 The envoys in Bangkok decided that recognition would be granted when the Foreign Minister notified them, provided the notification included an undertaking that the government would adhere to its treaty and other obligations.219 This note Thompson received on 27 February.220 The recognition notes were sent when the new Khuang government received a vote of confidence early in March.221 The British Cabinet approved.222 The Australians, though they had not told the Foreign Office of their reservations, withheld their recognition.223 Whitteridge thought the hand of Evatt was discernible, the motives not.224 Early in April Richard Whittington, the charge, reported the resignation of the government.225 Prince Rangsit asked Pibun to form an administration.226 What was expected, said Whittington, had come about far sooner and more drastically than anticipated. Pibun had thrown to the winds the assurances that he had made, and automatic recognition would 'show a cynical disregard of what we have said publicly about the Marshal and of the considerations upon which were based our recognition of Khuang's administration'. Procuring rice was, however, 'paramount', and Siam was looking for 'a strong man'.227

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The Foreign Office consulted Thompson, now on leave in London. He thought 'that we should look at this question, from a practical and not an emotional or sentimental point of view'. Conceivably it had been a mistake to recognise Khuang. 'We did so, however, knowing perfectly well', he rather coolly added, 'that Pibun had put Khuang in office and in the full expectation that Pibun himself would come to power within a few months . . .' Thompson did not think the Foreign Office should be too much influenced by Stan ton, 'who, he considers, views this question emotionally and is also influenced by the fact that this is the year of the Presidential elections . . .' Britain should consider its own interests, 'and he does not think that these will be furthered if we adopt an unfriendly attitude towards Pibun who will, he thinks, now be in power in Siam for a considerable time'. Siam needed a strong man, and he had come to power by 'comparatively speaking constitutional means'. But before acknowledging any note from a new government, 'we should extract categorical assurances from Pibun that he will continue to observe with care all Siam's treaty and other obligations', the assurances that were secured from Khuang.228 The French minister in London was talking of 'coercive action'. But the Foreign Office, unenthusiastically accepting Thompson's view, told Inverchapel that there was little prospect of preventing a Pibun government, and no coercive action could be taken that might risk the flow of rice. Recognition should not be hasty, but it could not be withheld indefinitely.229 Pibun got a vote of confidence in the Assembly.230 The Foreign Office now told its ambassadors it planned to accord recognition de facto and de jure, having secured assurances, by dropping a hint to the new Foreign Minister, that Siam would abide by its obligations.231 Whittington saw little advantage in delay. Pibun was 'here to stay and . . . we can make the best of it for ourselves by accepting the fact that he has had a walkover, and by establishing normal relations at once without too many cries of disapproval'.232 The Foreign Office agreed. If the assurances could be gained quickly, Whittington should wait. If not, Britain would accept those Pibun had made in the Assembly at the time of the vote of confidence.233 That is what it did.234 Siam's request to revise the 1946 agreement, made in September, had been taken up at the same time as the Khuang government was recognised. Whitteridge convened a meeting on 12 February.235 The main issue left, Dening wrote in early March, was war damage: Siam thought the claims excessive and suggested a lump sum compensation. The Far Eastern Official Committee had agreed, and thought it should consist of Siam's frozen assets in the Commonwealth, plus £lm. That would not give UK claimants 100 per cent. But a prompt settlement would reduce a source of discontent, and establish a more normal relationship

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with Siam. Its rice was vital, and 'a friendly and stable Siam' was 'of considerable importance to our general policy in S.E. Asia'. The Americans had treated Siam with greater sympathy, and a Soviet mission had arrived.236 An agreement would enhance the prestige of the Khuang government.237 The concession over claims was reached only after 'long and hard bargaining with other Government Departments'. The Treasury was unable to respond to Doll's request for a reconstruction loan, and the Board of Trade did not give Siam the highest ranking as a market.238 As the Foreign Office had recognised the previous year, departments in London had often been negative over Siam and retained some of the attitudes that had contributed to the provisions of the 1946 agreement that Siam found it difficult to accept. Pressed by Thompson, and by the need for rice, the Foreign Office had sought to modify the British approach. The policy of the US, often critical and divergent, led the same way. The British had since 1945 had to recognise that it often differed from their own, yet must be reckoned with. Since January 1946 'we have virtually re-established our pre-war position', Dening told Strang when Thompson came on leave. 'This has been in very large measure due to the untiring efforts of Mr Thompson, who has established in Bangkok a position not dissimilar to that enjoyed by Sir Josiah Crosby before the war.' The flow of rice was now 'very satisfactory, and here again much credit is due to Mr Thompson'.239 Dening's comparison perhaps implied that Thompson was more powerful than in fact he was. Pre-war, however, British policy had been essentially to work with the post-coup governments, and the British envoy had been quite unable to curb Pibun. In that sense Dening's comparison was more apt than perhaps he meant it to appear. Thompson's success was rather with his own government than with Thai politicians. His task was to persuade it to adjust to reality and thus retain what influence it could in a changing world. As pre-war, the US and the UK had failed to work together: Stanton had leant to Seni, and Thompson had not. The British had, however, not helped Pridi. They now moved to recognise a regime of a more authoritarian nature that persecuted his allies.240 The worsening relations with the Soviet Union contributed to the same conclusion. 'Strong men' were now seen as bastions against the threat of communism. The enthusiasm for democratic politics that had prevailed at the end of the war had diminished. Direk resigned, disappointed at the recognition of Pibun; and the Soviet ambassador, the Foreign Office suspected, might have been trying to influence him. Pibun's government was 'not a good Government', Grey noted. But he has 'professed himself very eager to forget the past, to cooperate with the Western Powers and to maintain the steady

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improvement in Siam's economy and, in particular, in the supply of Siamese rice . . . Despite his record, he may well be the only man who can keep order in Siam in the present confused state of politics there.'241 The Foreign Office found Evatt's reluctance to recognise the regime rather unaccountable. Macmahon Ball visited Bangkok in June and concluded that non-recognition could not continue.242 'The Australian left hand does not appear to know what its right hand is doing.'243 Recognition came in July.244 'At last. . .'245 Britain's policy put a premium on stability and a flow of rice, designed to ensure stability elsewhere. It had not managed to reconcile those policies under the Free Thai governments. Now it had modified its rice policy and accepted Pibun: it could do little else; and it certainly did not want civil war, which was the prospect, or fear, that Thompson held out. On his return Thompson stressed that a 'strong, stable and independent Siam' remained 'a major factor in British foreign policy'. Pibun was not, however, 'quite certain exactly how he stands with us': 'he suffers from a sense of guilt with regard to his policy in the war which is entirely absent from his relations with the Americans, possibly because the latter ignored Siam's belligerency'. Memories of British friendship for Pridi complicated the issue, as also in the case of royalist elements. 'At the same time, the "free Siamese" now resent the fact that we are in apparent pleasant official relations with the Marshal. . .' Britain's 'enemies and detractors (not to mention our competitors)' had 'a relatively easy task', but 'patience, perseverance and honesty of purpose' should 'overcome these handicaps', provided that such efforts were supported at home and in Malaya. 'Orientals do not react well to curt negatives.'246 Discussions on the claims 'lapsed' during the political crisis.247 The new government took the matter up later in 1948, when the Foreign Minister visited London. It was suggested that he see George VI. 'Siam is becoming increasingly important to us both from the point of view of her rice exports, which . . . are very much more in demand as a result of the probable failure of supplies of rice from Burma; and from her position as an anti-Communist oasis in the middle of S.E. Asia.'248 He did not see the king, but he saw Bevin. One issue on which the Foreign Secretary was briefed was cooperation across the border: the 'Emergency' in Malaya made that more important. Another, as ever, was rice. Bevin should not say much. 'Firstly the reduction in Burma supplies due to the disturbances in Burma makes us more dependent on Siamese supplies than we would wish the Siamese to realise. Secondly the Siamese are getting the idea of demanding dollars for their rice and we are anxious to head them off making such a request. . .'249 The Foreign Minister made over an aide-memoire on the claims question.250

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It had been assumed that the main focus of the Siamese was on that question. In fact they now wished to get rid of the rest of the 1946 agreement, too.251 That, it had been suggested, might not be desirable until the claims were guaranteed.252 Now it was best to respond on other issues as well. 'From the political point of view, having regard to the general disquiet in South East Asia and particularly the situation in Malaya, we might be glad to have the co-operation of Siam; while economically we hoped that Siam would fill the gap caused by the failure of the Burmese rice supplies.'253 The COS dropped their insistence on retaining the security-related clauses,254 deemed an affront to Siamese sovereignty. Siam saw itself as a member of the UN already bound to cooperate over security in the area. And a Kra canal was 'a proposition technically quite out of the question for the Siamese for an indefinite period', as the Foreign Office put it.255 The lump sum, however, remained at issue. The Siamese, said Doll, were disappointed that Britain asked for £lm in addition to the frozen assets. 'Circumstances have changed very considerably in South East Asia and Far East since the beginning of year when our decision to seek the above tical payment was taken', Thompson argued.256 The Administration of Enemy Property Department insisted on it, though there was ministerial authority to drop it, Palliser noted. But maybe it should not be abandoned immediately.257 The Siamese Foreign Minister talked of 'careful study' and of Siam's need for funds when faced with heavy expenditure on arms and equipment against the threat of communism. Little definite progress could be made until all the claims had been submitted. Thompson was sarcastic: 'after some 15 months' deep thought, we have finally produced a proposition that is all the more impalatable to Siam not only because of passage of time since the war, but also because of the shadows that have lengthened across the Far East scene since they first approached us on this subject in September 1947.' He had always urged that delay would add to difficulty.258 'The longer they delay the less willing we shall be to drop our proposals for a million pounds worth of ticals', Palliser commented.259 The Baie d'Along accords Baudet called on Dening in the New Year. Bao Dai, he said, was 'weak', 'a poor tool for the French to have to use'; but he was 'their only present hope'.260 Bao Dai, it seems, was not as 'weak' as Baudet suggested. The French, Clarke gathered, were 'still sticking out' for an arrangement under which the French Union would run the army and diplomatic representation. They were not prepared 'to grant as wide a measure of

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independence as dominion status although Bao Dai is sticking out for this. They realise however that if Bao Dai is to have any real standing with his own people he needs to be able to show that he has got more out of France than Ho Chi Minh.'261 The French would not grant Bao Dai the concessions he needed to secure the status with the Vietnamese that they wanted him to have, Street concluded. They did not 'really envisage handing over any authority to Annamites (perhaps because of the reactions in North Africa), and this attitude will continue to hamstring their efforts to establish security in Indo-China'. But how long could France afford the drain on its resources?262 A meeting between Bollaert and Bao Dai in Geneva achieved little.263 'In the end military difficulties and the consequent drain of treasure may prove decisive factors', Whitteridge thought.264 By March, it seemed that the Viet Minh had regained what they had lost in October/November. 'All in all, it begins to look as if the French have shot their bolt in the 3 Ky.'265 In Washington, J.-C. Winckler of the French embassy had suggested that the French might accept a GOC-type solution.266 In Bangkok, Stanton reported, Pierre Gilbert was pessimistic: Bao Dai was demanding more than Ho Chi Minh.267 Walton Butter worth invited H. A. Graves to a discussion on Indo-China at the State Department. His assistants seemed to think that the Bollaert-Bao Dai negotiations could not lead to an arrangement that would stand against the Ho faction. Butterworth himself did not consider the position was like that in Indonesia. There the Dutch had so disposed their military forces that the republicans had to take the consequences of a complete failure by the GOC into serious consideration. In IndoChina, by contrast, French military power was 'obviously diminishing'. Butterworth wanted to know if Britain had any suggestions for 'moving the two sides towards a broad political solution'. He also wanted its estimate of the strength of the communist cells under Ho Chi Minh and its suggestions as to arresting their growth elsewhere.268 'The prospects in Indo-China are not bright', Mackworth Young commented. If Ho Chi Minh gained the upper hand, 'it will be a great triumph for Communism throughout S.E. Asia'. He therefore suggested that it would be best 'to paint the picture as black as possible to the Americans'.269 Anti-American feeling in Indo-China went back to OSS days, Whitteridge added. 'The presence of this feeling and of the French view that our own policy in India and Burma has indirectly weakened their position in Asia as a whole makes it desirable to proceed very cautiously in regard to saying anything to the French about their policy in Indo China.'270 There was always the danger that Indo-China would be brought to the Security Council.271 There, as Butterworth said, the elements for a solution were not available as in Indonesia. The French

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were unlikely to invite mediation. But Indo-China was a springboard for the Japanese, and might be one for 'the advance of communism westwards across Asia'.272 The French government was not united about the Bao Dai policy. Many socialists were opposed to it and wanted negotiations to involve Ho Chi Minh. The issue was thus not brought to the assembly, lest the government's majority were split and the socialist party undermined, while both the Right and the communists would oppose. 'The Government felt, therefore, that the best way of gaining support for their point of view was to induce Bao Dai to return to Indo-China and prove that he could make a success of the implementation of the Government's policy before the National Assembly had a chance of expressing an opinion.' Bao Dai was determined not to return on these terms: he wanted to be sure that the government intended to carry out its policy and could secure an Assembly majority in its favour.273 Bao Dai playing hard to get, the French proceeded indirectly. A provisional central government would be set up under General Nguyen Van Xuan, who, Guiringaud told Grey, might reconcile Cochin-China to the union of the three ky. It would work out a constitution and invite Bao Dai to return. Grey asked if the Vietnamese, in working out the constitution, would put forward demands France could not grant. This, Guiringaud said, was 'unlikely'. But the concept of French Union had given 'much trouble. They were trying to fit things into a frame. It would have been better to let the organisation fit itself to the shape of its constituent parts.'274 Possibly the French would attempt further military operations, Gibbs reported. But the French public had been misled about the strength of 'the Communist-inspired but very real Nationalist independence movement'. The consul-general saw little hope of peace unless representatives of the Ho Chi Minh government attended a round table conference. Possibly Bao Dai could be an intermediary. Or a GOC could be used.275 'Mr Gibbs stresses that there is no hope of peace in Indo-China unless the Viet-Minh are appeased. But we know what appeasement of Communists means.'276 He made no other suggestions, Whitteridge noted.277 A report on the Xuan negotiations suggested to Mackworth Young that a political solution might be found, 'provided that the French are prepared to concede Dominion status to the new Government under General Xuan'.278 The Baie d'Along accords were signed on 5 June. France recognised the independence of Vietnam, 'whose right it is to bring about freely its unity'. Vietnam adhered to the French Union, and its independence had no limits other than those emanating from its membership. Vietnam agreed to respect French rights and interests and to give preference to French counsellors and technicians. After a provisional government had

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been established, representatives of Vietnam and France would agree on arrangements in the cultural, diplomatic, military, economic, financial and technical areas.279 Bao Dai was present, but did not sign. He wanted real independence.280 If Schuman agreed to put the agreement before the assembly, the US offered to endorse it.281 The government faced many problems, Clarke reported: Tndo-China comes pretty far down the list.'282 It fell on the question of military credits.283 The Indian government had hesitated to bring Indo-China before the Security Council: the Viet Minh might not represent the majority; and France, a permanent member of the Security Council, could veto any action contrary to its interests.284 Apprehension that the Australians might do it perhaps contributed to French rudeness to the goodwill mission led by Macmahon Ball. 'As he said, if they had been clerks of the Education Department, they could not have been treated worse.'285 The Australian mission had been careful to have nothing to do with the Viet Minh representative in Bangkok.286 Perhaps, it was thought, the French 'disliked having a real Dominion, as opposed to their bogus Vietnam Dominion, sending out a goodwill mission'.287 Ball himself was 'sure that it was entirely due to the fact that the French were afraid that the Mission was trying to pick up first-hand information about the political situation here with a view to taking the case before UNO as they had done in the case of Indonesia'.288 'He does not say whether the French were right', Mackworth Young commented.289 J. O. Lloyd doubted if the Australians would find favour with the Annamites, given the White Australia policy. 'But there certainly is a danger now that Australia may out of pique try her hand at getting the Indo-China question aired in the Security Council, which is what the French want least.'290 Dening wondered whether the Australians had approached the French embassy in Canberra before the mission left. They had neglected to tell him when he was in Canberra shortly before.291 No action ensued. Since there was little chance of a political solution in the near future, Lloyd wrote, the French could stay only as long as they could keep up their military effort. If they withdrew, the country would be left in the hands of Ho Chi Minh and the communists, 'unless the French, realising that the worst has come and that they are faced with a Hobson's choice', tried to come to terms with him, possibly 'the least unpalatable solution open to them'. French evacuation would have 'a grave effect' on the rest of Southeast Asia. 'Burma, already beset with a major Communist problem, and Siam, would find a Communist-controlled country on their borders.' It would give 'a fresh impetus' to extremist and communist elements in Indonesia, and it would not improve the position in Malaya. The Americans were 'also firmly convinced that it would be disastrous if the French were to quit Indo-China'. Lloyd concluded that Britain could

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not interfere, but should do nothing to impede the French from reaching a settlement by political or military means. It should not encourage any move to bring the matter before the Security Council or the General Assembly.292 Bajpai talked of denying the French facilities to fly over India.293 'We share Sir Girja Bajpai's anxiety that there should be an early cessation of hostilities in Indo-China. But we are equally anxious that the French should not be forced into a compromise with the Communist inspired Viet-Minh.'294 What had earlier seemed a reasonable approach no longer seemed so: Ho's moderation had then been rejected, and thus diminished. But the perception of communism in general had also changed. If, however, a deal with Ho was impossible, so also, it seemed, was a victory. The third option was a realistic deal with other parties. Was that feasible? Bollaert's views 'do not seem to differ from ours in any important particular'.295 France could not deal with Ho Chi Minh: whatever arrangements were made, in the end, as in Europe, the Communists would gain the upper hand. Nor could the French leave: 'he believed we and they had still an important civilising role to play in South East Asia generally. He called attention to the somewhat discouraging state of affairs in Burma where the inhabitants had been left more or less to their own devices.'296 Bollaert seemed to be 'caught between two fires': the 'reluctance' of the French government to give Indo-China 'more thought and attention', and 'his own very natural reluctance to have anything to do with Ho Chi Minh and the Viet Minh'. But, Grey asked Gibbs, 'can he get anywhere, in your opinion, with General Xuan and Bao Dai', who seemed to enjoy 'very little public support in Indo-China as a whole?'297 Scrivener, from MacDonald's office, visited Saigon and Hanoi. 'The senior officials profess, one and all, to be engaged in a serious endeavour to detach moderate nationalist opinion from Ho Chi Minh's professional communists. They admit that it will take some time and call for some very adroit manoeuvring, but they hope to see definite progress by the end of the year.' But the French parliament had not ratified the treaty. Some said there were 'more wreckers in Paris than in Indo China'. Over Malaya, Scrivener added, the French could not hide 'a slight feeling of "schadenfreude" \298 Gibbs, by contrast, found Hanoi officials adopted 'obstructive tactics', making Xuan's 'already small chances of success . . . even more slender'.299 The Marie government's political difficulties increased with the emergence of the Gaullist RPF, who insisted that Ho Chi Minh should suffer a military defeat before any negotiations began. Ratification of the Baie d'Along agreement would have involved a full debate, and the government could not risk it.300 Instead a brief discussion in the chamber took place on 19 August. Right-wing and Communist deputies had called for

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a debate, and the Prime Minister sought its postponement. In a statement he paid tribute to the work of Bollaert in concluding the agreements of 7 December and 5 June, which 'defined the principles on which France intended to base her association with the people of the Viet Nam'. He made it clear that a vote for postponement would in fact mean the approval of the statement and thus of the government's policy. The issue was presented in this way so as to avoid a full discussion and thus take account of the socialists, whose congress had voted for negotiations with Ho Chi Minh. It was not clear, Sir Oliver Harvey reported, whether with 'the somewhat ambiguous vote' Bollaert would feel able to carry on.301 The government declarations, drafted by Blum, were Very carefully phrased so as to allow a variety of interpretations'. Bollaert had been told that he should claim it as a vote of confidence in his policy, but that the French government could sign nothing until there was an elected body in Vietnam with which to negotiate. Others thought this approach 'unconstitutional'. An energetic policy of one kind or another might bring the war to an end, but 'no results can be produced with no policy at all'.302 The ambiguities left Xuan and his government 'to fall between two stools', Gibbs reported. 'They have been given neither a real excuse to resign and thus demonstrate their independence and sincerity towards their compatriots, nor the full support which they require if they are going to make their Provisional Government a working reality.'303 The Xuan-Bao Dai solution still had some chance, Gibbs added, though slight, 'and with the present procrastination in Paris', growing less. But the French must act quickly, 'or Xuan and Bao Dai will not even have to be pushed, they will be laughed out'.304 A deal with non-communist nationalists required concessions which a French government had not managed to give. Yet, as the State Department also saw, that was the only answer, if victory was impossible, and a deal with Ho ruled out.305 France must stay and it must not deal with Ho. There, like the Foreign Office, the State Department agreed with Bollaert. But the alternative was to set up a viable non-communist regime in Vietnam. That decision France had not made, and its chances, never great, were not increased by delay. Back in Saigon, Bollaert insisted Assembly approval gave him sufficient authority to implement the June accord even in Cochin-China. Bao Dai's return was essential, but then negotiations for a supplementary agreement could begin. He was indignant at the suggestion of the American consul-general, George Abbott, that 'mere hope for future concessions on reserved points might not be sufficient to win support non-Communist nationalists for Bao Dai', and refused to admit it was impractical to postpone formal agreements and their ratification by the assembly until referenda had been held and a constitutional

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government formed.306 Bao Dai was, however, unwilling to return before 'the unity and independence of the Vietnam had been realized in a concrete manner'.307 Bollaert made a farewell tour, proclaiming the independence of Vietnam, Gibbs reported, but the central government realised that they had in reality not advanced since June. 'The conjuror has waved his wand, but he has not even produced a rabbit.' He wanted Bao Dai to return and to take the lead in concluding agreements on the army, finance and diplomacy. With some justification Bao Dai thought that to return with these issues unsettled 'would lead to his immediate discredit'.308 Bollaert's departure, and the non-return of Bao Dai, shifted the centre of gravity to France, Gibbs reported. Indo-China was 'faced once more with a period of waiting and anxiety'. The central government could do little to strengthen its position: it had no strong leader; it was conscious of its 'quasi-illegality'; it had 'no means of inspiring popular support, still less of stealing thunder from the Vietminh'. Until there was a measure of stability in France, there was 'little hope of a lasting solution in IndoChina'. Judging by 'recent events in Indonesia and elsewhere', there were no grounds for thinking that Bao Dai's return, 'even . . . in the most favourable circumstances would lead to a cessation of hostilities'.309 In France there was little general interest in Indo-China, Clarke observed, and 'so many more exciting political issues'. But when it was raised, Indo-China aroused 'fierce controversies'. Thus French governments tended 'at moments of trial and tribulation . . . to let things slide'. This 'combination of laisser-faire and spasmodic passion' allowed d'Argenlieu 'to run a policy of his own and then brought him to naught for doing so'. Bollaert might have succeeded 'had it not been for the lack of clear support from the Government and Parliament'.310 French military action in north Annam was 'a tonic to French military morale', but 'on far too small a scale to affect the general military situation'.311 Bollaert's successor was Leon Pignon. He continued talks with Bao Dai, in the hope that the ex-emperor would return, not with a detailed treaty, but with 'an agreement in principle backed by full confidence on both sides in honest implementation'. In France it was now clear that the Communists would not take part in the government, while a resolution of the RPF had largely eliminated the possibility that a Gaullist government would renounce a solution.312 One of the difficulties, as Pignon told Dening, was the 'fragility' of the French government: orientals always hoped the next government would offer more.313 The policy was, it seems, to get Bao Dai to return without an explicit deal, while assembling sufficient support in Paris for such a deal to be concluded. Again the problem was in some sense Parisian. Whether Bao Dai could form an attractive government was still in question, but the lapse of time did not

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help. A further deterioration of the position in China might make a solution impossible, Pignon thought. That view Harvey also reported. Communist control of southern China would mean 'a very powerful accession of strength to the Viet-Minh; so much so, that it might be impossible to continue to negotiate with Bao Dai'.314 'Could we suggest some way of galvanising the French into action, or could we think of some means whereby the country could be protected against a potential Communist menace?' Graves was asked in Washington.315 Tf we have any constructive suggestions to put to the Americans, now is the time.'316 Pignon told Dening that he believed 'that there were nationalist elements in the Viet Minh ready to break away from the hard Communist core if they were given an opportunity to rally round some alternative government'. France had to make concessions and to bring peace. Dening was impressed: 'we should wish him well. It is to be hoped that the French Government will give him every support.'317 Graves relayed this to Charles S. Reed at the State Department. 'Given strong metropolitan support Reed thinks that Pignon might even achieve a settlement more or less satisfactory to the French. The support however seems doubtful.'318 Clarke in Paris asked Baeyens at the Quai d'Orsay whether it was not 'urgent to do something about Indo-China'. The obstacle, he replied, was resistance in the Cabinet to further concessions to Bao Dai. That had been led by President Auriol, and backed by Ramadier, both Socialists.319 Harvey suggested that Dening should visit Paris when Pignon returned: 'discussion might cover general question of measures of self-defence against communism in Southeast Asia.'320 The paper on China the British Cabinet had approved was to be the basis of Dening's approach to the French. 'The underlying object. . . would be to try to convince them by implication of the necessity of clearing up the Indo-China situation, before the Communists in China extend their influence to the borders . . .' He would not press them to settle the Indo-China issue, 'since this is only likely to exasperate them, and it is not for us to tell them how they should proceed. In fact they are going to have the greatest difficulty in breaking the alliance between the Communists and Nationalists in Indo-China.'321 Bevin approved the visit. Conversations might help, though direct pressure would not. But, as Dening put it, 'internal politics in France have been even more responsible for the failure to reach a solution than the intricacies of the situation on the spot'.322 That impression was confirmed by the visit. Paul Coste-Floret and the officials were 'impressed with the need to find an urgent solution to their problem in Indo-China. Their chief difficulty lies in the stresses of internal politics in France, which make it very difficult for them to adopt bold and comprehensive measures.'323

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The Sulu heirs The negotiations with the Philippines for a friendship treaty had been allowed to lapse early in 1948. 'British interests in the Philippines are not likely to be affected by the absence of a Treaty', Tomlinson wrote in May, 'and we have been in no undue haste to resume the negotiations in the hope that after we had given the Filipinos a little time to get used to running their own affairs they might possibly be a little more forthcoming.'324 Even the Colonial Office seemed to favour discretion. Foulds referred in January to a report that the government in Manila was investigating the rights of Filipino nationals whose ancestors had owned North Borneo.325 Tomlinson thought it should not be taken seriously, and Ramage agreed: T do not think we need worry ourselves unless the Philippines lay formal claim to N. Borneo, and in the meantime the less attention is drawn to the subject the better.'326 A further report appeared in the Manila Times in May, and Foulds also noted that none of the heirs had in fact collected their money.327 M. B. Ramage remained unworried either by the reports or by 'the heirs' dilatoriness'.328 The money forwarded to Manila was sent back to Jesselton.329 But a payment was made to the estate of Haji Piandao.330 The arrears were put on deposit in North Borneo.331 To avoid 'scratching the old sore', it was also agreed that they would not be shown in the estimates each year, but be augmented by placing the annual amounts on deposit also.332 The Malayan Emergency

The threats from outside Southeast Asia came from international communism, demonstrated in Europe by the Czech coup, the conflict over Berlin, demonstrated in Asia by the crumbling of the KMT regime and the triumph of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). These threats made the British more anxious to achieve their objectives in Southeast Asia, and to some extent helped them to elicit US support. The objectives rested still on reconciling East and West. It was necessary to bring the Dutch and the Indonesians into a lasting settlement. It was desirable to bring the French and the Vietnamese into an agreement, though the French were less open to pressure and the nature of a possible understanding less apparent. In Siam both the UK and the US, though in some sense rivals, accepted the return of Pibun as guarantee of stability, if at the expense of democratic principle. Britain's policies in its own territories were also being tested, which challenged too its policies for the rest of Southeast Asia. The instability of independent Burma was not a good example to the Dutch or the French,

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and the British themselves were apprehensive that the government of the day would be driven so far left that it would be effectively communist. In Malaya, now the core of their empire in Southeast Asia, the British were challenged by what they were to call the 'Emergency'. They had so far seen Malaya as a special case: it was not ready for democracy, nor for dominion status. Now they still maintained it was a special case. The nationalists were squarely against the communists and working with the British against them. But that was, to say the least, an over-simplified view. Facing opposition from the Malay community, they had abandoned union for federation. But in conciliating Malay nationalism - partly in order to diminish the potential appeal of Indonesian nationalism - they had neglected the immigrant communities, in particular the Chinese. That challenged the MCP, which during 1947 the British had increasingly come to see as a 'Red menace'.333 Little international stimulus was needed to prompt the MCP's turning to violence. It is only surprising that it had not seriously challenged the government sooner. The economic situation had provided an additional source of unrest which the MCP could have turned to account: the most consistent criticism of the government was in relation to 'the shortage of rice and the consequent high prices'.334 'If only there was a sufficient supply of rice at a reasonable price, industrial troubles would be solvable', S. S. Awberry and F. W. Dalley, sent out to investigate trade unions, were told.335 Moderation so far was partly the result of the leadership of Lai Tek, a triple agent. News of his treachery, broken to party members in February 1948, conduced to a shift towards more militant policies, as did the weakness and inexperience of the remaining leaders.336 Those leaders had jungle experience rather than experience of peaceful agitation. 'Undoubtedly, news of the successes of the Chinese Communist Party in their guerilla campaign provided an important example for all Party members and especially for the militants, who still avidly followed events in China.'337 The agitation policy had, moreover, not paid dividends: the government ignored the AMCJA/PUTERA coalition. A meeting of the Central Executive Committee convened by Chin Peng on 17-21 March 1948, decided on a policy of armed struggle: 'to fight for national independence an armed struggle will be inevitable and will constitute the most important form of struggle'.338 Lawrence Sharkey, an Australian communist, had given the MCP leaders news of the shift in Soviet and Cominform policy and relayed the results of the discussion at the Southeast Asia Youth Conference in Calcutta. That spurred the Central Committee to follow a course it was already disposed to adopt:339 it was 'useful but by no means indispensable encouragement'.340 Strikes increased, and so did arrests and police raids. At a meeting in Singapore on 10 May, the Central Committee decided that 'concerted struggle and the use of violence' were necessary.341 The activity that

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ensued was not, however, controlled or coordinated, and lower level cadres took matters into their own hands. On 16 June 1948 three British planters were killed in Perak. The government declared a state of emergency in Perak and Selangor and then, on 18 June, in the whole of Malaya. 'The MCP was caught by surprise.'342 Moreover, far from winning over the masses, its violence so far had weakened its support. But, as Stubbs says, the MCP enjoyed a 'general popularity among the Chinese community' which gave it 'a significant base from which to mount its guerrilla campaign'.343 The Malayan government was not well informed about the MCP. That was partly because of the loss of Lai Tek. It was also because the Malayan Security Service, led by John Dalley, tended to concentrate on the Malay radicals and on the influence of events in Indonesia.344 Its approach was conditioned, too, by the long-standing tendency of this, like other governments, to classify opposition as banditry. Its initial steps were aimed rather crudely at the restoration of law and order and emphasised coercion and enforcement.345 Gent was recalled. His replacement, Sir Henry Gurney, told the Colonial Secretary that the Chinese were 'notoriously inclined to lean towards whichever side frightens them more and at the moment this seems to be the Government'.346 He accepted that 'the police and army are breaking the law every day'.347 Such a policy of 'frightfulness' was, of course, the kind of policy that the British had deplored in the case of the French and the Dutch. The outbreak of the Emergency was an embarrassment in itself: the measures to deal with it might be, too, though the communist nature of the leadership mitigated the risk. 'Are we not gradually against our will being forced into the position of Europeans fighting the Chinese, or at least of Europeans and Malays fighting the Chinese?' Sir Thomas Lloyd of the Colonial Office had asked.348 Steps towards the formation of the Malayan Chinese Association were initiated later in the year. The international implications of the Emergency had certainly been considered. Indeed it could be used to warn moderates elsewhere against the communist threat. MacDonald had given the Foreign Office a background to it and argued that it should be given not only to Van Mook, but to the Indonesian leaders, too. The arguments in favour of sharing confidences of this nature with the moderate Republican leaders are obvious, and I think we are all agreed that in this part of the world we British representatives should do everything possible to show our friendliness [to] and trust in moderate nationalist leaders, and to encourage and support them.349 An assessment was also made of the international implications of banning the MCP. MacDonald insisted that the ban would apply only for

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the emergency period. At the Foreign Office Lloyd thought that the reactions of Moscow and the satellites would be 'obvious. But the reactions in Burma, French Indo-China, the N.E.I, and elsewhere will not be so obvious', and the communists in those countries might persuade their more moderate countrymen that this is just another instance of Colonial repression of the masses . . . But it is a moot point how much the genuinely Nationalist elements in the countries of South East Asia will be taken in by this line in this particular case. Many of them may be glad that firm action has been taken against a disruptive and vociferous force which they know is fundamentally totalitarian and intolerant and ultimately stands against their nationalist aspirations.

Banning a political party in a colonial territory was 'a serious step' for a democratic power; but the situation in Malaya warranted it.350 Bevin thought it essential to show the Russians that the British meant business in Malaya.351 On 23 July the MCP was declared illegal, as were the AntiJapanese Army Ex-Service Comrades' Association and the New Democratic Youth League.352 The ban was discussed with the State Department. An official there wondered if the MCP's links were with the CCP or direct with Moscow. 'He welcomed your intention to allow the Malayan Communists to reform themselves as a political party as soon as the period of emergency is over, since he felt that such organisations cannot be destroyed by proscription but are merely driven underground where they become more difficult to control.'353 The Americans were sympathetic to applications for small arms supplies. There was 'no likelihood of a change in this policy unless it should be evident at any time that a genuine nationalist movement existed in Malaya which was the cause of the disturbances'.354 Dening argued for sending reinforcements to Malaya. Chinese communists might infiltrate from Siam, and the Siamese authorities were 'not very effective'. There was also 'a deteriorating situation in Burma which, if the Government collapses completely, might necessitate our landing forces for the protection and evacuation of British subjects'.355 The Defence Committee decided to seek Australian help. Noel-Baker's letter to Evatt, who had earlier discussed the Emergency in general terms with the Foreign Secretary,356 used the notion that strong action was needed promptly to stamp out the danger. Forces could not be locked up in a long campaign. Also, 'although there is convincing evidence that the campaign of terrorism in Malaya does not at present represent a genuine nationalist movement, the longer terrorism remains unchecked the greater the danger that its Communist supporters will be able to represent the terrorists as national heroes. Once this idea gained

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ground, the effects on the strategic position in the whole of South East Asia might be incalculable.' In western Europe and the Middle East the position was not 'immediately critical', but it was in Southeast Asia. 'In a word, the plain fact is that Malaya is the only place in all three areas where we are actively fighting against Communism, and moreover it is territory for which we are responsible. Clearly we cannot afford to lose Malaya to Communism.'357 Asking the Australians was not what Dening had advocated: he had been doubtful.358 What was at issue was not simply the continued question about Evatt and the Australian approach; it was more squarely the question of Britain's position in Southeast Asia. It had been 'greatly weakened' by the war, 'and though efforts have not been by any means unsuccessful in restoring a considerable measure of our prestige in that area, much remains to be done if our influence is to be maintained and if we are to be enabled to play our part in consolidating the position politically and economically against Soviet attempts to undermine it'. The UK alone had 'a measure of influence and prestige with the Asiatic races', not Australia, nor New Zealand. Surrendering Britain's position to Australia in Japan had not been a success.359 Doing so in a wider field 'would be likely to lead to the final extinction' of British influence there. 'The Asiatic understands that old people retire from active life and hand over to their juniors, and it would be disastrous to give the impression that that is what is happening to the United Kingdom.' In a war, Australia might have to extend its sphere of strategic responsibility. But at present the threat was political, and Britain's capacity to influence the situation must not be weakened 'by pledging in advance to Australia a position which in the event she may not even be called upon to occupy'.360 In any case Chifley was inclined to see the insurrection as anti-colonial rather than pro-communist, and he did not go beyond supplying arms at Britain's request.361 The British finally enquired whether troops would be available if they asked. Chifley at once said no.362 Dening argued in terms of prestige. In Malaya, of course, economic issues were at stake that affected Britain still more widely: it was a major dollar-earner. As early as 1 July, the Colonial Secretary had told Cabinet that Malaya was 'by far the most important source of dollars in the colonial empire and it would gravely worsen the whole dollar balance of the Sterling Area if there were serious interference with Malayan exports'.363

CHAPTER 6

Commonwealth and Colombo, 1949-1950

India and the United States

In their approach to Southeast Asia in the late 1940s the British not only had recent experience in mind, but experience of the early years of the Pacific war. Their image of the advance of communism was coloured not only by their understanding of its ideological threat and of Russian leadership. It was also coloured by a comparison between the threat of China in 1948-9 and that ofJapan in 1940-1. Now, as then, Britain could dispose of little force. But it was important to bolster friendly regimes, to inhibit de facto penetration, and to elicit US support. Mutatis mutandis, the same strategies were again invoked. The significance of Indo-China and Siam was assessed in a similar way. If they fell, the Peninsula and the islands would be exposed. The 'domino' theory evolved in part from British experience and British perceptions of the past. The British had recognised that, while the Far East was the main area of US responsibility, Southeast Asia was the main area of theirs. Their recipe was based on an East-West rapprochement, accommodating nationalism and the European presence, the aim being stability and prosperity. In the territories for which they were or had been responsible, their remedies were under challenge in 1948. Elsewhere the reconciliation of Indonesians and Dutch still evaded them, and in French Indo-China reconciliation seemed almost inconceivable. The prospect of communist triumph in China redoubled the attempt to make Southeast Asia a zone of peace and stability before it was too late. United States interest had been demonstrated, and US involvement had in fact increased, particularly in Indonesia. For the most part, the US approach appeared to coincide with the British, though there were tensions in Siam. Bevin had sought to involve the Americans more in 315

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Indonesia, despite some doubts about the nature of their diplomacy. Now US policy in China was clearly failing. But that made it both possible and necessary to make a further bid to involve them in Southeast Asia. The UK had always been apprehensive of the threat of international communism, and again in that respect US and UK views coincided. There was some risk, as pre-war, that the Americans might react negatively to a direct attempt to involve them. But there was also some risk that the US, once involved, would be too narrow or too rigid in its approach, as had indeed been the case in 1940-1. While seeking to involve the Americans, the British sought also to guide them. It was necessary, too, to develop policies which would not alienate the Indian leadership: indeed the British believed that their role was to reconcile the two. It was in this context that they initially sought to meet the threat of China by a programme of economic development which at once had regional support and attracted US backing. Economic development was indeed part of the answer to international communism. Another part was something that again they believed they and their Commonwealth partners could provide: 'good' government, though the emphasis on the 'democratic' had lessened. The British were seeking to increase the American component in their policy for Southeast Asia, not to abandon that policy, nor even fundamentally to re-shape it. The views of the Commonwealth, particularly India, were somewhat divergent. But that could help rather than hinder. As the Chiefs of Staff put it, the British needed an early settlement of the situation in Indo-China as in Indonesia 'so that stable antiCommunist Governments are installed'.1 The crises in Burma and Malaya perhaps prompted the Foreign Office to emphasise India as a success for British policy and an exemplar to others. The strength of communism, R. A. Hibbert argued at the Foreign Office, was organisational rather than ideological: it resulted 'from the para-military exploitation of impoverished masses (but still minorities) on the margins of society'. Its organisation must be destroyed and its raw material removed. Western financial help was needed, but also 'the majority masses of South Asian states must be well and liberally governed . . . There is very little that Western nations can do in a short time to foster good and liberal government in Asia', he suggested. 'But much can be done by a state such as India, just as much has been in Europe by the U.K.'2 Indian leaders would, of course, not act merely as exemplars: they would pursue foreign policies of their own, opposed in particular to Western colonialism. 'The old trainer has gone; the old rider has been unseated, or has abandoned the saddle . . . The filly must be free to run under her own colours and with trainer and riders of her own choosing',

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as Sir T. Shone put it.3 But while the British recognised that those leaders would seek and should enjoy an important political role outside India, the kind of views that were believed to inspire them were not thought to be irreconcilably far from those held by UK policy-makers, who did not, as Anita Inder Singh puts it, 'draw out the full implication of the fact that Indian and British aims in Asia were essentially at cross-purposes'.4 India, with 'a primordial part to play in peripheral polities', was, in Strang's view, a country 'which we should try to carry with us in the framing of policies and the development of action' in Southeast Asia.5 Involving the Indians might at the same time help to shape US policy and define a role for the British. The continued significance of India was demonstrated by the readiness to re-shape the Commonwealth itself in order to retain its membership. Mountbatten thought he had squared the circle in 1947-8, when India and Pakistan accepted dominion status. But that proved to be only temporary. During 1948-9 the British and their partners moved towards a Commonwealth no longer tied by allegiance to a monarch. What the British had been completely unwilling to offer the Burmese they offered the Indians. Their hope was that this would preserve collaboration, not end it. Secession would be exploited by the Soviet Union, and India might indeed come under its influence. If India stayed in, Britain would maintain 'a solid front against communist domination in the East'.6 Doubtful at first, Bevin supported changes to the Commonwealth to accommodate the inclusion of republics.7 On 4 April 1949 the North Atlantic Treaty was signed. With that, as the new Permanent Under-Secretary's Committee (PUSC) recognised, Anglo-American cooperation was endorsed, and the two objectives, Western preponderance and being a third world power, could be pursued simultaneously, though if they diverged, the former must take priority.8 The UK must 'show enough strength of national will and retain enough initiative to maintain her position as a leading world power, and, as such, influence United States policy'.9 These were not new views, but marked some shift of emphasis. The American alliance, the committee thought, was likely to be least effective in the Far East: US policy towards China was narrowly conceived; and it appeared unwilling to contemplate any major effort in South Asia.10 The main aim of the British was in fact a kind of Marshall Plan for Asia. At the Foreign Office Robin Hankey believed that with NATO, and an effective West German government, Stalin would be brought to a halt in Europe. Then, however, he would devote his attention to the Far East and especially to Southeast Asia. 'There is no doubt that by communizing south-east Asia he could deal a mortal blow to the economy of the Western world, to our air communications with Australia, and, indeed,

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largely nullify the success of the Marshall Plan, quite apart from the effect on India, Burma and Ceylon.' The 'communization' of China was Stalin's answer to the Atlantic pact, he thought.11 Not many agreed with that: communist success had other sources. The British government was indeed to recognise the new regime, while the US did not. But the UK became more anxious to involve the US in the economic advancement of South and Southeast Asia. 'Point IV' seemed to offer a hope. In his inaugural speech Truman referred to the provision of technical assistance and of project capital in order, in cooperation with other countries, to assist the peoples of underdeveloped countries to improve their economic conditions. But the legislation was not approved till 5 June 1950.12 In Europe the activities of the communists had helped both to draw the western Europeans together and to involve the Americans, and the precedents were much in the minds of British policy-makers in 1948-9. But if they saw that their new ties with France and the Netherlands only made the need to resolve the problems of Indo-China and Indonesia more urgent, they also feared that the burden the United States assumed in Europe from Marshall Aid onwards might make it less ready to assume another in Asia. Yet if British policies were to work, the wealth and the power of the United States were essential. Following the Cabinet's acceptance of the policy advocated by the Far East Official Committee, other powers were consulted. The ambassador in Washington was asked to interview Marshall, or Robert A. Lovett, the Under-Secretary. The Americans, Bevin thought, would not accept any responsibility for Southeast Asia. 'Nevertheless I feel that it would be a good idea if they can be brought to associate with us as far as possible in stemming Communism in South East Asia . . .'13 A telegram from MacDonald, sent after a visit to Siam, was enclosed. That urged 'a diplomatic and political offensive in South East Asia. We should do everything that lies in our and the American power to strengthen the forces opposed to the Communists inside the Asian populations.' There was little chance of political agreement between the French and even moderate elements in Indo-China, MacDonald thought, but the British should continue to do all they could to promote negotiations in Indonesia. The British and the Americans should consider 'formulating a joint programme for adequate economic and military support for Siam prior to or in case of an emergency'.14 The envoys in Rangoon and Bangkok were asked to raise the question of containing the communist threat in Southeast Asia with the governments to which they were accredited.15 From Rangoon Bowker suggested that the only effective way in which the government of Burma might cooperate would be 'to put their own house in order and redress their

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chaotic political and financial situation'. Any British initiative might be 'seized on by them as a lever for raising their demand for financial assistance'. At the Foreign Office, R. C. Blackham thought this was too negative a line. Perhaps the issue could be linked with the question of economic assistance for Burma and raised in discussions with India about that. 'Far from allowing the Burmese to use the Communist danger as a lever to get more assistance, it might be possible to tie such assistance up with her agreement to effective cooperation with other South East Asian countries on the matter.' The approach, however, should come from India rather than the United Kingdom. There was a danger, a colleague commented, in not enlightening the people in power in Asia about Chinese and Russian communism. 'If the Burmese don't get it straight, who will?' On a visit to U Nu, Sir William Strang had warned against regarding the Chinese communists as 'mere agrarian reformers'. There was, as Bowker put it, some 'wishful thinking' among his supporters.16 In Bangkok the Foreign Minister told Thompson that 'Siam was firmly on Anglo-American side in her resistance to the Communists'. He believed that internally the position could be held, though his government would welcome material assistance for the military and the police. Siam could not, however, hope to meet an external threat from the north without effective American and British support. The danger, the minister thought, would not become acute for some considerable time, but he would 'like to know if His Majesty's Government had any definite ideas as to how, in the event, help could be extended to Siam'.17 The crisis only confirmed Thompson's view that accepting the Pibun regime had been the right course. He believed that Pibun's proclamation of a state of emergency, though aimed at maintaining his own position, should be welcomed as aiming at 'firm Government' and strengthening Siam's resistance to 'the Communist infection'. He would also accept at its face value the offer to cooperate against the communist menace. Britain should respond more generously than hitherto to Siam's request for supplies of military equipment and be less uncompromising over war claims and the retention of Siam's frozen assets in London. A negative policy might lead only to internal disturbances in Siam, and 'their effect on rice exports, if on nothing else, would seriously prejudice our prospects in Malaya'. A conversation with the Siamese ambassador to Washington led Thompson to think little assistance could be expected from the United States. 'It would seem, therefore, that if anything is to be done, we must do it.' The Foreign Office was not fully persuaded that more positive measures were called for. But Christofas did agree that the State Department seemed to regard Siam as 'within our sphere of influence'.18

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The indications from Washington were indeed that the State Department was 'only prepared to move very cautiously'.19 The contacts made by the Siamese ambassador in Washington led Walton Butterworth, the Director, Far East, to question whether it was opportune to let other countries know that the British and the Americans were trying to devise a plan to contain communism. 'What he feared was that we should whet appetites before his Government had decided whether it could, or should, supply any iron rations. If countries like Siam got the idea that they could hold out their hands . . . then it would be very difficult to persuade his superiors to go along without tremendous caution.' Clearly, Graves commented, 'Butterworth thought we were allowing things to develop almost towards inveiglement'. Graves's reply was the obvious one that 'the sooner we could finish our talks here the better', and that the perimeter states could be expected to raise the matter anyway. But he reported home that it might not be wise 'to run so much ahead of what we are trying to do . . .'20 Dening replied that the British had been, and would continue to be, 'very careful not to commit the United States in any way'. They were not 'thinking of an anti-communist front in South East Asia in terms of United States dollars', nor did they believe there was any reason to respond to blackmail from the Siamese or anyone else. 'The first task, as we see it, is for the Asiatic countries concerned to take the communist menace seriously and to try to set their own houses in order . . .' It was a question of self-help in the first place. 'My own personal view is that it is diplomacy rather than dollars which will be required for some time to come.'21 The making of the Atlantic treaty prompted a certain 'pactiousness', but Europe offered another lesson. There Bevin had sought to build up cooperation, which US aid consolidated. The same concepts reappeared in Asia. Collaboration and self-help might lead to American backing. That might be economic as well as political. Indeed in London American dollars and British political leadership seemed a desirable combination. There were, of course, other complications in Asia. The communist threat was recognised as in Europe, though only with the approaching triumph of the CCP did it appear so immediate. Colonialism, however, was also a threat. If India, Pakistan and Burma were free, Vietnam and Indonesia were not. The relations among the European colonial powers had always complicated the handling of colonialism. The Atlantic Pact, rather than diminishing it, enlarged the problem. The colonial powers might be seen as 'ganging up' in Asia as well as in Europe. That enhanced the role of India, as example and actor.

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MacDonald had suggested economic aid to Siam. Graves welcomed Dening's modification of this approach, since it was clear that Butterworth was 'fighting shy of financial aid for Siam . . . The Americans have of course got used to the idea that economic aid involves financial assistance - and indeed that has been a corollary to most of the economic plans.' Butterworth would be pleased 'to hear that we are not thinking of an anti-communist front in South East Asia in terms of United States dollars . . .' The aim of the British in Washington, Graves inferred, should be 'to get the United States Government to help us press the orientals to build up their own front against communism. If this has the convenient sequel that America should become economically involved in South East Asia so much the better, but we should encourage the United States authorities to act politically first.'22 Butterworth, Graves noted, was 'extremely reluctant to put anything relating to policy on paper'. He showed 'signs of wishing to keep to the perimeter problems -Japan, Korea, Formosa, Indonesia - and to steer clear of commitments in the continental countries . . .'23 No doubt, Blackham commented, the Americans hoped to 'hold a perimeter ring of friendly countries in the "democratic" camp'. But if Burma, Siam, and IndoChina all fell to the communists, the position in Indonesia would be 'precarious' and Malaya would be 'dangerously threatened'.24 The ambassador intended 'to look at the problem closely after he has disposed of the Atlantic Pact', Graves added.25 In fact Bevin thought he might discuss the matter with Dean Acheson when he went to Washington to sign the pact. Dening had obtained no response to the idea of secret talks on the Far East a year earlier. Much had happened since, but the Americans were without a policy and inclined to decrease their commitments, and no real progress had been made with the December initiative. A draft brief for the Secretary of State was sent to the Commonwealth Relations Office and the Colonial Office on 18 March. 'Clearly it will take many months, if not years, for policy to crystallise in the manner suggested . . . If, however, Asiatic countries show a disposition to create a united front against Russian expansion, we should hope that the Americans would be disposed to offer material help when and where it is required . . ,'26 The brief argued that the Russian threat was 'for some time to come . . . unlikely to be a military one'. But as measures were developed for the security of Europe and the Middle East, pressure upon Southeast Asia would increase. Conditions there were favourable for the spread of communism, and if the impression prevailed that the Western powers were 'both unwilling and unable to assist in resisting Russian pressure', local resistance might be weakened, and 'eventually the whole of South

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East Asia will fall a victim to the Communist advance and thus come under Russian domination without any military effort on the part of Russia'. It followed that 'we must try to take steps to stiffen the will to resist on the part of South East Asia territories'. Even the resources of the United States, it might be argued, were insufficient for commitments in Southeast Asia as well as Europe and the Middle East. But 'at any rate in the initial stages the question is one of political and economic effort rather than large-scale economic aid', and the Western powers might be able to help 'by technical assistance and advice, by the provision of capital goods and even by the comparatively small-scale provision of armaments'. There were many disputes to overcome as well as much distrust. The British had a special position by virtue of the Commonwealth relationship with India and Ceylon, as well as their colonial and other contacts. But they must not appear to dictate. 'Above all, any suggestion that the United Kingdom or the United States seek to dominate the situation in South East Asia must be avoided. The fully sovereign governments of South East Asia must be prepared to take the initiative themselves, but we might hope to prompt that initiative A common front might contain the Russian advance, stabilise the area, preserve communications, even influence the situation in China.27 Bevin, Dening suggested, might hand the brief to Acheson. If he seemed responsive, details could be worked out by officials, involving Commonwealth members, too. 'It would be premature to ask for a promise of material support, since the Americans will want to be convinced that the principle of self-help is firmly established before they will be willing even to consider an outlay of dollars . . .'28 In the event talk with the US Secretary of State early in April was wide-ranging. The main reference to Southeast Asia was in terms of a 'conference arrangement in which the US, UK, Australia and New Zealand could cooperate for economic and political purposes, as distinct from a military understanding or pact for this area which should not be considered now'.29 There was not much time for non-European matters on Bevin's Washington visit. The memorandum was, however, given to Acheson.30 T fear that we have a difficult task to bring the Americans in on this', wrote Graves. 'They have burnt their fingers so badly in China that they are at present in a very cautious mood.'31 If the US appeared too inactive, India appeared too active. Indian leaders had policies of their own, and it was more than ever a diplomatic challenge, for the CRO as well as the Foreign Office, to educe a collaborative approach. Establishing a consensus with the US as well was to be a challenge also. But one problem might be played off against the other. The second Dutch police action in Indonesia prompted India to convene another conference in Delhi.32 The third resolution the conference

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adopted expressed 'the opinion that participating Governments should consult among themselves in order to explore ways and means of establishing suitable machinery, having regard to the areas concerned, for promoting consultation and cooperation within the framework of the United Nations'.33 At the CRO, L. J. D. Wakeley was concerned about the possible implications. 'We are under continuous threat that comparisons will be drawn between the position of the Dutch in Indonesia and our own position in Malaya, as well as that of the French in IndoChina (and perhaps India itself).' The organisation contemplated might 'prove to be an organ for directing criticism against all the remaining traces of European power in Asia', and European powers might be tempted to criticise each other in order to defend themselves. 'The Dutch have on the whole refrained from embarrassing comparisons between Indonesia and Malaya, but if the attack were broadened to take in the French in Indo-China, the vulnerability of our own position would clearly be increased.'34 Nye, the High Commissioner in New Delhi, thought that the conference presented a challenge, but also an opportunity: there was 'the hope that provided moderate statesmanship prevails and the western powers including America show appreciative understanding of Asia's new position, the countries represented at the Conference may come to realise that the dangers of increasing Communist pressure all over the East are far more serious than these resulting from colonialism which even where it persists is losing much of its former character in its evolution towards responsible rule'. A regional grouping might also lead to greater economic co-operation and improved living standards, 'the best possible buttress to [against] the spirit of communism'. More than ever, the formulation of the UK's policy must take account of the views and likely reactions of Asian countries.35 Wakeley believed Nehru had seized the occasion to prosecute 'India's claims to hegemony in South-East Asia'. Those invited were 'strongly pro-Republican in the Indonesian quarrel', and could hardly refuse to attend. The issue was on the UN agenda, so that Nehru could cast his net wide, especially in the Muslim Middle East, 'to the greater glorification of India', and to the unhappiness of Pakistan. Others were left out, the issue being presented as one of concerting thought and action with a view to action in the UN. That also met the criticism of the conference of 1947, when India had been blamed for taking no positive step. China, too, was in no position to challenge India's leadership. The conference included countries concerned to resist 'any further southward expansion of Russia': Nehru had 'learned that lesson, at least, from us'. But the conference was also used 'for sounding another warning that European authority must disappear from Asia'.36

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Nye was optimistic in thinking that fear of communism would persuade Asian countries to accept the vestiges of colonialism as a lesser evil, Wakeley believed. The Russians had, however, criticised the conference, indicating 'that their policy may not be primarily to use existing Governments to overturn Western Colonial administrations but to attack all existing Governments indiscriminately and simultaneously'.37 Perhaps, he speculated, the political fabric of Asia would disintegrate rather than consolidate, and then the New Delhi conference would appear, not as 'an early manifestation of Asian power standing over against the Western and Communist power groups, but as one of the last bows of the ideals of Western liberalism in Asia'. Asia's part might turn out to be, as in the past, 'more passive than active'. That would not be in Britain's interest, 'and though we might wish for a more stable foundation for resistance to the Communist forces in Asia than India provides, India is nevertheless the most stable foundation available, and apart from other considerations, we should support her if only on this ground'. Britain should protect its interests, but also 'bear in mind that it may be necessary to put up with a good deal to keep India going, however critical of our policies she may be, so long as she is in a broad view standing firm against the Russians'.38 Patrick Gordon-Walker, the Under-Secretary, wondered whether the CRO should take an initiative. Over Burma it had, Philip Noel-Baker commented: could it do so on any other subject, such as Malaya? T rather doubt it.'39 Gordon-Walker thought that various territories and countries might become involved, some under the CO, some the concern of the FO, but that there must be a common approach. The reasons why the CRO might take the initiative were that the impulse came from a Commonwealth country; that one way of dealing with it would be 'to build a Commonwealth group (perhaps including Australia and New Zealand) within the Asian Group'; and that, if Britain itself decided to be 'interested as an Asian power', it would largely be a matter of dealing with a Commonwealth country.40 Noel-Baker suggested a ministerial meeting. Not the best first step, Gordon-Walker replied. 'In any case I don't see how we can start till the Autumn. Everyone is too busy now and until we know India's future, we can't even begin to work out ideas.'41 Noel-Baker thought a meeting of foreign ministers in Colombo would be 'the most useful step'.42 'Our general line', Gordon-Walker told Laithwaite, was 'to keep a Commonwealth hand in the Asian bloc. How, when - these are the difficult questions'.43 Following a recommendation of the Commonwealth prime ministers' conference in October 1948,44 a proposal that the foreign ministers should meet in Colombo in 1949 had been discussed with Dudley Senanayake.45 The CRO considered that a prime ministers' meeting on

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the status of India as a republic in the Commonwealth was 'more important'.46 Involving many of the same ministers, it required the postponement of the Colombo conference.47 The Foreign Office had been perturbed. 'Unless we can have a Foreign Ministers' meeting before long, I fear that we may run into serious trouble in South East Asia, and may find India, and possibly Australia, taking the lead in that area without the voice of the United Kingdom being properly heard', Bevin wrote. The Atlantic Pact, moreover, was 'liable to cause some misunderstanding in various parts of the Commonwealth, particularly as regards a possible conflict between our commitments towards our Atlantic partners and towards the other Commonwealth countries'. A 'frank exchange' could clear up any such misunderstandings. Not to take the initiative would encourage the criticism that Britain devoted too much attention to Europe 'to the detriment of the Commonwealth as a whole and of other parts of the world'.48 A meeting, including Attlee, decided, however, that a Commonwealth meeting on foreign affairs could not be held in spring 1949, and probably not in 1949 at all.49 Like those at the Foreign Office, MacDonald was inclined to think that the British 'should maintain an understanding and reasonably sympathetic attitude to the gatherings of Asian Government representatives which Nehru initiated in the recent Delhi conference about Indonesia'. The 'movement towards Asian co-operation' had probably come to stay. 'If we try to put too much of a brake on it, we shall not stop it, but merely turn it into a critical and even hostile mood towards us. By giving it such sympathetic support as we wisely can we shall help to lead it along paths of moderation and co-operation with the Western democratic peoples . . .'50 MacDonald was concerned that the reactions to the British initiative of December had been slow. Meanwhile the situation had on balance been getting worse. 'We should regard South East Asia as a whole, and devise a coherent policy for dealing with it over the whole region.' The communists did this and probably partly because of frustration in the West were giving more attention to the East. 'Unless our counter-action is firm, we may quickly lose important areas, e.g. Burma and Indonesia, in this part of the world . . .' Europe was MacDonald's example. 'We need Asian equivalents of the Marshall Plan and the Atlantic Pact . . . they would have to be very different from the arrangements for Europe, but in general they should offer the Asian Governments and peoples economic, political and if necessary, military aid in their resistance to Communism.' The aim should be to give the Asian countries, so far as possible, political stability, economic progress, military security, and 'a continuing organisation for inter-government consultation and planning for the carrying out of the over-all plan'. Australia and New

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Zealand should participate, and so should the Americans, 'because probably no Plan adequate on the economic and military sides is possible without a large measure of help from them'. To bring all the governments together in the immediate future would be impossible, in view of American reluctance and the Indonesian crisis. But a meeting of Commonwealth countries would be 'a useful preliminary', and the initiative would also give the Commonwealth prestige in Southeast Asia.51 The postponement of the proposed foreign ministers' conference worried MacDonald. 'I feel that Commonwealth discussions on South East Asia should be held in the near future.'52 The Commonwealth prime ministers' conference in April was itself likely to exchange views on 'the general set-up on the South-East Asia front', Dening believed. The British should clarify their views in advance. 'It appears that Pandit Nehru wants to take the lead in building up a "united Asia front" on lines which may not be entirely dissimilar from our own ideas on the subject. . .' His scheme, Dening thought, would not succeed, 'because he has cast the net too wide' - from Utopia to Indonesia, as a Pakistani official put it53 - and 'because India is not very much loved in Asia'. Britain should take the initiative and it could not wait till the conference of Commonwealth foreign ministers, now proposed for Ceylon in 1950. 'And on the whole we should probably be wise not to confine any initial meeting, if there is to be one, to the Commonwealth alone.'54 An earlier comment on the brief for the Foreign Secretary on the threat of communism to Southeast Asia had reflected the CRO discussions. Nehru might not 'come off the fence', even if he recognised the danger. Moreover, 'it might not be an unmixed blessing for us if India were to take an active part in building up a South East Asian front. Pandit Nehru's ideas about Colonialism are well-known to you . . .'55 Dening took account of the comment in consulting the CRO on the Foreign Office's new initiative. Nehru might seek to build up a front on an anti-Western basis. His lead might not be acceptable. But if he were 'successful in building up a united front in South East Asia, we may find such a front is hostile to the United Kingdom, to the United States and to Western interests in general'. If he were not successful, 'then there will be no front, which would also be disadvantageous to Western interests, because without a united front Communism may be expected to make good headway in the region'. Britain alone had 'the experience and the ability to knit the South East Asia region together'. But Nehru's attitude would have to 'undergo a change'. He would not at this juncture be prepared to contemplate a regional pact. 'We should have to convince him . . . that the West has a material contribution to make to the welfare of South East Asia, and that it is therefore in the interests of a

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South East Asia front to be on friendly terms and even in close association with the West' The economic field might be a more fruitful field for cooperation in the first instance than the political one. The Americans would surely 'require concrete evidence that some degree of political and economic stability can be attained on the principle of selfhelp before they will show any readiness to play a part'. But the situation could not be allowed to drift. Something on the lines of the brief prepared for the Foreign Secretary might be put to the Commonwealth countries interested in Southeast Asia or, perhaps preferable, through a regional conference to all the countries of the region. In the meantime officials should be ready to brief ministers if the matter were raised at the meeting of Commonwealth prime ministers. 56 Indeed Dening clearly thought it should be raised there. The British attempts to 'build up a united front against Communism through the medium of our estimate on China' had brought no marked response, he told the Foreign Secretary. But the feelings engendered in Asia by the second police action in Indonesia led Nehru to convene a conference to which the United Kingdom was not asked, and there was a danger that an India-led regional movement would either become antiWestern or would fail. The situation should not be allowed to drift till a meeting of foreign ministers was held in 1950, though in any approach to Nehru nothing must be said to dispose him against continued association with the Commonwealth during the crucial constitutional discussion. If we can achieve a degree of regional co-operation in which the United Kingdom is a full partner, then the time may come when we can convince Pandit Nehru that South East Asia has need of the West and that India should maintain a close association, not only with us but also with other Powers including the Dutch and the French.57 Dening also drafted a minute for Bevin to send to Attlee. 'If we wait too long, we may find ourselves no longer able to influence the situation, since a tendency is already developing on the part of Pandit Nehru to issue invitations to conferences without asking the United Kingdom.' The initiative should be seized at the prime ministers' conference. There are so many political difficulties in South East Asia that a purely political approach may meet with no success. It seems desirable therefore to approach the problem more from the economic angle, since in the economic field there is a good deal which the West has to offer the East, thus providing a solid basis for co-operation. An approach to Nehru and the prime ministers of Pakistan, Ceylon, Australia and New Zealand might lead to a regional conference 'which

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should not necessarily exclude foreign countries in the area. With the United Kingdom as a participant, such a conference might pave the way to regional co-operation, in the first place in the economic field. Later possibly this might lead to some kind of regional security arrangement. . .'58 The prime ministers found a formula for permitting a republic to remain in the Commonwealth and thus in some sense retained the link with South Asia that Britain saw as all-important for the continued stability of the area. Southeast Asia itself was not formally discussed. 'But Nehru', as J. O. Lloyd put it, made some pertinent remarks at one of the meetings on the general subject of defence against Communism, in which he argued that pacts of a regional kind, such as the Atlantic Pact, were not of themselves sufficient barriers against communism. He deprecated . . . the actions of the Dutch in Indonesia and of the French in Indo-China, which led one to deduce that, until these countries faced the facts and gave independence to the people, nothing much could be done in Asia about wider cooperation with 'colonial powers'.59

MacDonald had meanwhile reiterated his disappointment over the delay in holding the foreign ministers' conference. By late 1949 or 1950 the position in Southeast Asia might have deteriorated further: 'The sooner we can demonstrate that the Democratic Powers have an agreed and co-ordinated policy in South East Asia, the stronger will be our influence on all the Governments and populations in South East Asia who wish to resist Communism . . .' The interested Commonwealth governments should confer first, and the wider group meet soon after. Perhaps, he suggested, he should come to London for consultations after the prime ministers' conference. Then he might hold a conference at Bukit Serene, which would feed its ideas back to London before the Commonwealth conference was called. His visit to London was approved.60 The Colonial Office welcomed MacDonald's new initiative. But it was more doubtful about the kind of approach the Foreign Office advocated in the minute for Attlee. Something more cautious might be required. In relatively underdeveloped countries like those of Southeast Asia, economic development would be a slower process than it might be, with Marshall Aid, in western Europe, and 'it would be illusory to expect too much, in a short time, in the way of creating by this means an atmosphere unfavourable to the growth of Communism'. Even if there were something like Marshall Aid, 'this would involve the supply to the countries in that area of large quantities of materials and technical staff which are in exceedingly short supply'. Supplying foreign countries might divert resources from development in the British

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colonies and lead to discontent and a loss of faith in the intentions of the British government, and thus enhance the danger of communism. The main contribution to checking the spread of communism in Southeast Asia should be 'to set Malaya once again firmly on the road to economic and social progress, thus creating a bastion of contentment in South East Asia, the influence of which will permeate the neighbouring countries', and the Colonial Office was seeking Treasury grants for this purpose. The Foreign Office emphasised the need for an initiative from the sovereign Asian governments, especially India. Again the Colonial Office offered a caution. Looking at the problem, not only from the point of view of the department responsible for Malaya, but also from the wider point of view of the position of the United Kingdom in Asia, 'which is focused on our position in Singapore, we are very apprehensive of the situation which might arise if we seemed to be too subservient to Indian leadership in those parts'. Indeed, Britain 'might well run the risk of suffering an eclipse in South East Asia'. It was furthermore not certain that India would have the right political approach to Burma, Siam or Indo-China, nor that they would as readily respond to a lead from India as to one from the United Kingdom. Any suggestion that 'we were surrendering our leadership in South East Asia to India' would also have a 'deplorable' effect in Malaya, where the Chinese and the Malays saw Britain as 'the only possible impartial authority capable of assuring . . . orderly political development'.61 The CRO agreed with the Foreign Office that the attitude of India was 'crucial'. Britain had 'to avoid the two extremes either of surrendering the initiative to India or of attempting too obviously to induce India to follow the leadership of the United Kingdom'. The best hope was to secure its cooperation in joint efforts 'by proving that we have something worth while to offer'. The general advantages of association with the Commonwealth were unlikely to be decisive, though it was encouraging that India was continuing it. 'We want something more than the negative appeal of in terrorem invocations of the Kremlin.' Britain could undertake no more defence commitments. Nor could economic assistance be made 'conditional on India's falling in with our political plans'. To persuade Nehru and others, or even Evatt of Australia, to accept that the Western colonial powers still have a useful part to play in Southeast Asia was difficult: the case of Indonesia made it more so. But it was the only real hope of success. The CRO agreed that the Atlantic Pact was not an appropriate model. Even if Australia seemed to favour a Pacific Pact, India was opposed to 'power blocs', and there was no current chance of American participation. There was indeed a danger in thinking in terms of 'fronts' and

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'regional groups': stressing machinery maximised difficulties over scope, membership, leadership. MacDonald's post, and the other British diplomatic posts in the area, already provided the machinery for the exercise of Britain's influence, and the governments in Southeast Asia were accustomed to looking to Britain for help. A 'purely practical approach', focused on technical and training assistance, offered the best hope of securing practical cooperation from India. A general offer of economic cooperation might arouse false hopes, since Britain's resources were constrained and an American contribution was unlikely. A conference would, however, demonstrate Britain's wish to help. It might be a Commonwealth one, but it need not be confined to regional Commonwealth members. It might also 'prove to be the best means of beginning the process of demonstrating to Nehru and the others that we have a contribution to make in overcoming the problems of the area . . ,'62 Christofas concluded that a regional pact could be discussed with MacDonald only in 'broadest possible terms'. An economic pact, he thought, was ruled out by the plethora of United Nations bodies already operating: 'it would be invidious to poach on their preserves. If it were to be politico-military, there would undoubtedly be constitutional complications in view of the dependent status of several of the component territories of South East Asia.' Nor, he agreed, was there a common fear of communism to drive the states together: 'though I realise that in South East Asia the enemy is Communism, it is less clearly definable in the minds of all concerned owing to the inevitable confusion of certain Nationalist and Communist movements.' Ho Chi Minh, for example, was seen by the French as an out-and-out communist, and by the Indians as a nationalist leader.63 'The real problem before us is how to develop regional understanding. If, as seems probable, it is premature to try to get a meeting of Commonwealth territories in South East Asia, or of South East Asia countries as a whole,' Dening told Bevin, 'then Mr MacDonald may be able to suggest some other way of achieving our object.'64 The meeting with MacDonald, held on 24 May, included representatives of the Foreign and Colonial Offices and the CRO, as well as Nye. Dening began by reviewing previous British attempts to secure regional cooperation in Southeast Asia and the Southwest Pacific. 'Recent events had increased interest in such cooperation.' But India was the key to the problem of Southeast Asian regional cooperation and India was in no mood to cooperate in a joint move to establish an anticommunist front in the Far East, though it had collaborated with other Commonwealth governments over Burma. The object, Dening reiterated, should be to build 'a common front against Russia', but that did not necessarily require the formulation of a defensive pact. Regional

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cooperation, MacDonald said, should be directed first against the communist menace and, second, it should be developed 'for its own sake as a step forward in political civilization'. Defence was the prime objective, for, triumphing in China, the communists 'would probably try immediately to crumble the anti-communist front in South East Asia while the going was good'. A political, economic and defence policy should be devised to 'convince the peoples of South East Asia of our and their ability to resist Communism'. Ideas formulated in London could be tested at a conference in Singapore or Delhi of the British representatives in Southeast Asia. 'Preparation of an overall policy would provide something which could be discussed later with the Americans and the Commonwealth and later perhaps with the foreign countries in South East Asia.' India's adherence was indeed essential. Nye discussed India's likely attitude to regional collaboration. It would be influenced by its opposition to colonialism and its wish to avoid adherence to either of the world power blocs. Educated Indian opinion mostly favoured the decision to remain in the Commonwealth, but there was some concern lest it limit India's ability to pursue an independent foreign policy. Indians, too, expected the Chinese communists to be 'Chinese first and Communists second', and would be unwilling to join a regional conference the chief purpose of which was to build an effective front against communism. Finally, Nye added, Nehru might not be keen on a British initiative when his own attempts to build a continuing organisation arising out of the New Delhi conference on Indonesia had met with a cool response. The High Commissioner thought, however, that India might respond to proposals for economic collaboration. Nehru believed that communism in Asia was promoted by low living standards. The Indians were also coming to realise that they needed economic assistance. A working party of the Far Eastern Official Committee was examining the possibilities of economic assistance in Southeast Asia in the light of the fourth point in President Truman's inaugural speech of 20 January. But it was not likely that the United Kingdom could make a large contribution, as the Colonial Office stressed. MacDonald agreed that India could not be expected to take part in a conference together with the French and the Dutch. 'Why . . . should we not hold a Conference limited to Commonwealth Powers, amongst whom India would play a leading part? .. . While we were developing cooperation within the Commonwealth in South East Asia the French and Dutch might disappear from the scene as Colonial Powers and so facilitate a wider Conference . . .' The postponed conference in Colombo could be based on nationalism and economic development, the two causes without championing which, in Nehru's view, the communists could not succeed in Asia. The conference might produce a

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general statement on the attainment of sovereignty by Asiatic peoples, though avoiding a time limit within which colonial powers should withdraw. Apart from capital for economic development, Dening said, the British could offer technicians. Tf we could forward some concrete plan after the holding of a Commonwealth Conference', he added, 'it might be possible to interest the Americans.' The meeting favoured a general Commonwealth conference with its focus on Southeast Asia.65 Attlee had told the Prime Minister of Ceylon and others that he hoped that the postponed meeting of Commonwealth foreign ministers might be held in Ceylon early in 1950. Following up the conversation with MacDonald and Nye, Bevin and Noel-Baker suggested that it should not be 'unduly delayed' and that it should focus especially on Southeast Asia. In 1946 Britain had taken an initiative in Southeast Asia by appointing a Special Commissioner; another initiative was now even more necessary. India's attitude was crucial, but it would take part in a conference to discuss international affairs with special reference to Southeast Asia. The question of colonialism would come up in discussion, but that would do no harm, since 'the very great difficulties in the way of developing backward areas' could be brought home. The presence of South Africa could be a difficulty, but again 'there might well be advantage in inducing more direct contacts between South Africa and Indian representatives in a Commonwealth atmosphere'. The Americans were not at present ready to undertake any commitments in Southeast Asia, and India and Pakistan would not take part if the French and the Dutch did. A conference of Commonwealth countries would make 'a beginning in regional co-operation' possible.66 Attlee asked for more time to consider the proposal.67 MacDonald planned his Bukit Serene conference for OctoberNovember.68 By this time the communists had triumphed in China. Dening hoped to use it, not only for dealing with the implications of recognising the newly-founded People's Republic, but also for making a statement on British policy.69 For this purpose two papers prepared during the summer by the Permanent Under-Secretary's Committee were taken to the Cabinet.70 The first of the papers stressed the view that 'the Soviet Union is seeking to obtain domination over the whole Eurasian continent'. That was unfortunate because Asian countries were at once subject to 'economic distress' and affected by 'an intense nationalism' that made them distrustful of each other and of the West. The United Kingdom could not dominate the region, but it could use its political and economic influence 'to weld the area into some degree of regional cooperation'. Its chief political advantage was that it had been 'the most successful of the Western Powers in coming to terms with the new

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Nationalist spirit in Asia'. The United States did not enjoy the same prestige, 'partly because it lacks the historical connexions which we enjoy with the area, partly because of the failure of its policy in China, and partly because of its reluctance to play a leading part in South-East Asia'. The United Kingdom was also 'in a favourable position for helping to plan and co-ordinate economic development in South-East Asia', while the laissez-faire economic philosophy of the United States seemed less relevant. American assistance alone could bring about the full development of the area, but the British should give a lead. Again Britain could clearly not afford extensive military commitments, but it should support 'local efforts to place defence establishments on a sound footing'. There were indeed disadvantages in Britain's position, the paper admitted. On the one hand, its defeat at the hands of Japan was not forgotten. Nor, on the other hand, was its imperialist past, and 'the suspicion lurks all too frequently that we are seeking by more subtle means to re-establish our domination'. But the advantages the United Kingdom enjoyed outweighed such disadvantages: 'there is no other Power capable of undertaking the formidable task of trying to link South-East Asia with the West and to create some kind of regional association which will be capable of effective resistance against communism and Russian expansion The second paper argued that India was 'the key to the whole problem of South-East Asian regional co-operation'. But India mistrusted the West because of the legacy of imperialism, and it also sought to avoid entanglement in a struggle between the West and the Soviet Union. Though they distrusted Indian leadership, other Southeast Asian countries shared this viewpoint. Something could be done to counter it in the political field, but more effective would be 'concrete help of a technical, financial and economic nature'. The Commonwealth countries, with Burma, formed a 'nucleus' upon which to build a system of regional cooperation. True, there were difficulties: the Kashmir dispute, the racial policies of South Africa, the White Australia policy. But a Commonwealth approach would at once reduce India's suspicion 'that she is being used as a pawn in a European-Moscow chess match', and allow it a leading role without alienating others. The Commonwealth conference proposed for Ceylon in 1950 might be 'a suitable occasion for a discussion on South-East Asian affairs', particularly as further communist success in China, increasing communist disturbances in India and the launching of independent regimes in Indonesia and Indo-China might make the Indians more realistic. The United Kingdom pioneered regional collaboration through the establishment in 1946 of the Special Commissioner's organisation, now that of the Commissioner-General. ECAFE followed but, with the Soviet Union as a

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member, it was unlikely that it would develop any real regional cooperation. If the economic line were the right one to pursue, there was still the question of resources, particularly difficult because demands from the colonial empire were also heavy. 'But it seems probable that, although the demand by South-East Asia may well be enormous, it may be possible (especially if effective use is made of "Fourth Point assistance") to meet sufficient items for the whole venture to be considered a feasible proposition . . .' Only if the United Kingdom showed its willingness and ability to bring about greater Asian solidarity would the Americans assist or come into any regional arrangement. That must be the main object. The line these papers took, ambitious but not hegemonic, was consistent with Britain's policy since the war, and with the arguments the Foreign Office and other departments had been developing over the previous year, as the advance of communism in China seemed to threaten the prospects for stability in Asia, and the moves in Western Europe invited imitation. Those arguments focused on the need for a British initiative, the concern to take account of India, the necessity of American involvement, the regional approach, the priority to be accorded economic development. They reflected more particularly the conclusions Sir William Strang reached during the tour he had undertaken early in 1949 of the 'rather neglected' Far East before taking over as Permanent Under-Secretary.71 'We have a role to play in SouthEast Asia, which no one else is competent to play, in order to promote collaboration between East and West.'72 The Prime Minister accepted the line taken, differing only in that he rated the chances of continued French rule and influence in Indo-China 'very low. I think that France has missed the bus.'73 The Cabinet considered the papers on 27 October. Sir Stafford Cripps, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, indicated that the United Kingdom could not give aid on the scale provided to India, Pakistan, Burma and Ceylon over the past few years. Further talks with the United States were needed. 'In discussion it was suggested that it should not be impracticable to maintain the political influence of the United Kingdom in South East Asia, while arranging for the United States to provide much of the capital investment that was required.' Rather optimistically, if not presumptuously, the Cabinet felt that the experience of the Americans in China might make them receptive to suggestions for collaboration on the basis of United Kingdom experience and United States finance.74 Rees-Williams and Dening, sent to MacDonald's Bukit Serene conference, were told both that the policy was approved, and that limited resources meant that quick action could not be expected.75 The confer-

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ence agreed that to prevent the spread of communism in South-East and Southern Asia 'we should encourage the ultimate creation of a Regional Pact of Association between all the Governments in the area'. The present situation did not, however, permit the early creation of such an association, so far as political or military affairs, or both, were concerned, and 'the initial approach should therefore be to stimulate cooperation in economic affairs'. The results of such a policy, however, would not be seen for some time. In the meantime short-term action was needed to meet the emergency in Southeast Asia, in particular the threat that the victorious Chinese communists would subvert Burma, IndoChina and Siam. The conference welcomed the idea of a meeting of Commonwealth foreign ministers in Ceylon at an early date, with Southeast Asia on its agenda.76 The question of the Ceylon conference, left in abeyance in July, had been discussed in London by Lord Addison, Lord Privy Seal, Attlee, and Bevin in October, and officials instructed to work out the details.77 Early in November Addison asked Attlee to help in persuading Nehru to attend. 'Indian representation at this Conference is, of course, of crucial importance, particularly in any consideration of the affairs of South East Asia and the Far East, and it is most important that Pandit Nehru himself should attend.' But he might raise difficulties. 'He is still somewhat suspicious of our colonial policy and may feel that this Conference is being arranged to further United Kingdom influence in Asia. There are also the Indian apprehensions of joining any bloc.'78 Attlee saw his Indian counterpart when he passed through London. Nehru said he hoped to be able to go to Ceylon, but wanted to be back in India for the proclamation of the new constitution.79 This helped to settle the dates of the Colombo conference.80 The British also attempted to get senior representation from South Africa, though Dr Malan would not attend. 'There is no doubt that developments in Far East and Southeast Asia will have a direct and profound effect on Middle East, future position of which is, of course, of vital concern to South Africa.'81 Late in November the Far Eastern Official Committee produced a report on economic and social development in South and Southeast Asia and the Far East. It was 'intended to show that the case for limited help is sufficiently convincing on both political and economic grounds for Ministers to give it their support, and for us to have a reasonable hope of convincing the United States Government that our argument warrants their support also'. Economic development would not of itself stop communism. 'But failure by the West to encourage Governments in the area to embark on essential development will lead to a defeatist attitude in Asia from which Communism will be swift to profit. . .' There was an economic case for helping as well as a political one. The report

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stressed the food problem, which improved productivity would help to address. Technical assistance would be required, accompanied by capital, though itself making investment more attractive. The United Kingdom could not do more than it was already doing. Substantial aid could come from the United States or from international institutions largely funded by US capital.82 The Cabinet's Economic Policy Committee stressed the need for American financial and economic aid 'to buttress the anti-Communist front in South-East Asia'.83 A few days later the China and Southeast Asia Committee of the Cabinet considered briefs for the Colombo meeting.84 The early attainment of 'some form of regional association' in the political and military spheres was unlikely and the United States, 'without whose support such an association would be ineffective', was 'not yet prepared to play any part in promoting it', though there were signs that its attitude was changing. The short-term aim should therefore be 'to secure co-operation in economic affairs, since all the countries in the region are in need of Western technical assistance and capital, and the urgent need is to increase food production'. The Commonwealth, the brief concluded, had a unique role to play in promoting regional solidarity, since six out of eight Commonwealth countries were directly concerned: India, Pakistan, Ceylon, Britain, Australia and New Zealand. The resources of the Commonwealth had, however, to be supplemented by those of the United States.85 At the first formal session in Colombo on 9 January 1950, Bevin described the measures taken to resist Russian aggression in Europe. Now Russia was turning its attention to the East. He did not advocate a pact: the right policy was for the like-minded countries with interests in the East to keep in close contact and be ready to help each other in resisting any attempts to hinder peaceful development on democratic lines. He recognised the close inter-dependence of East and West and stressed the great need for the expansion of capital development and food production in the less developed countries. He hoped that a policy of financial help without domination could be adopted towards these countries . . . Nehru preferred 'mutual consultation and co-operation' to a pact. Percy Spender of Australia favoured giving some practical help in Southeast Asia, and Ghulam Mohammed of Pakistan welcomed Spender's realistic approach.86 Next day the Ceylon Minister of Finance, J. R. Jayawardene, envisaged the preparation of a long-term economic plan.87 At the meeting on the afternoon of the 12th, Spender said that it had proved possible to combine the Australian suggestions with those of Jayawardene, and in consultation with the New Zealand delegation, a joint paper was offered.88

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Bevin's initial speech had been open-ended, for the British clearly did not want openly to take the initiative. But when Nehru discouraged anything more than ad hoc cooperation, they welcomed Spender's more positive response. Though his own account does not say so,89 the British records suggest that two members of the United Kingdom delegation, Sir Percivale Liesching and Sir Roger Makins, indeed asked if he would take the initiative. But though that delegation saw a draft of the paper the Australians presented and made observations on it, no attempt was made to table a joint proposal or to put any pressure on them.90 The analysis in it did not in fact greatly differ from the analysis the British had made. 'The Australian Government is concerned', it declared, 'that there is lacking as yet any concerted attempt to check and reverse through international economic measures the deterioration in the political and economic situation', and it also believed that the development of the area could contribute to the solution of the dollar problem. The economic progress of South and Southeast Asia obviously depended greatly on the United States, so far as concerned the provision of markets and of capital and consumption goods. Tn other fields, such as the furnishing of technical personnel, Commonwealth countries should be able to make a significant contribution.' Commonwealth consultative machinery should be established, countries outside the Commonwealth being brought in 'as and when it was felt that this would promote the basic purposes of this proposal'.91 Jayawardene envisaged that the ten-year plan, as prepared by officials and examined by experts, would be operated through 'an organisation similar to the Economic Co-operation Administration which extends American aid to Europe'.92 The joint memorandum of the Australian, New Zealand and Ceylon delegations suggested that a consultative committee for South and Southeast Asia should receive from governments an indication of the broad lines of action they considered feasible; examine methods of coordinating development activities in South and Southeast Asia with other interested countries and regional and international organisations; examine the measures to be taken if possible for stabilising price levels of basic products; consider a plan for the economic development of the underdeveloped countries of the area and an organisation for carrying it out within a specific period; and make recommendations to governments on these subjects.93 Commonwealth action should be coordinated with that of the United States, Spender argued. 'Indeed not much could be accomplished without considerable assistance from the United States. This was not likely to be forthcoming unless South-East Asia showed itself willing and able to help itself.' Jayawardene stressed the need for urgent action in Southeast Asia, hitherto a 'nomansland' in terms of any international

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arrangement. Bevin pointed to the needs of the Middle East and indicated that the United Kingdom had already put £750 million into Southeast Asia since the war. The recommendations were generally accepted.94 In reporting to the British Cabinet, the Foreign Secretary suggested that the Colombo meeting, the first of its kind to be held in Asia, 'demonstrated to a heartening degree the extent of co-operation which can be developed between East and West through the agency of the Commonwealth'. There was 'a remarkable unanimity of view as to the menace of Communism and as to the necessity of improving the standard of life and the social welfare of the peoples of South and SouthEast Asia in order to combat this menace'. The proposal on economic policy was, Bevin added, 'widely written up as the only concrete achievement of the Meeting', and Ceylon and Australia competed for the credit. 'More soberly considered, the proposal holds out the promise of useful activity, and might help to enlist United States assistance in the area.'95 J. J. S. Garner of the CRO reported more informally to United Kingdom high commissioners. While the British delegation was 'for tactical reasons', as Garner put it, 'content to allow the others to take the lead, we had a good deal of discussion on the side, particularly with the Australians, and were able to ensure that matters went forward on the right lines'. There was no intention, Garner added, of 'making this exclusively a Commonwealth affair', and the United States and possibly other governments would in due course have to be associated with the work. But 'a start had to be made somewhere . . . After all, the United States was not likely to come in unless they were given some evidence that the countries concerned were first prepared to help themselves . . .' During the conference Nehru, Garner added, was 'accommodating. No doubt what helped most in this process was our acceptance of his main thesis about South-East Asia'. Spender made a favourable impression, 'and it was gratifying to find that he was thinking on such broad progressive lines and was prepared to recommend that Australia should shoulder her due share of responsibility . . .'96 The Colombo conference, in some sense a longstanding Foreign Office objective, was indeed in many ways a striking success for British policy. Like the policies that were developed for Burma, it had turned the Commonwealth connexions to account. That had helped to encourage India to take a positive but not domineering view of Southeast Asia and to play down the anti-colonialism that the Indonesian crisis seemed likely to provoke. It had also put the Australian interest in Southeast Asia into an acceptable context, Spender seeming no doubt more amenable than Evatt. The emphasis had to be on economic development, indeed on technical assistance. That, however, had a number of advantages. While it played down political differences, it might assuage them and

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promote a regional approach. Alongside good government, it might also strike at the roots of communism and show the peoples of Southeast Asia as the CCP triumphed and the Emergency developed that there were alternatives. By a demonstration of self-help, it would attract the support of the US in order, as the British Cabinet saw it, to combine American financial resources and British political wisdom. The Australians and the British were indeed quick to tell the Americans of the Colombo proposals,97 and they were to join the consultative committee of the Colombo Plan.98 But by then the Korean war had produced other dramatic changes. Earlier in 1949 the US had not been responsive to the UK's approaches. Its own ambassador in Nanking had, however, gone further, advocating 'convincingly dramatized ideas', an approach to 'mind and heart'.99 In March he forwarded a memorandum, originally drafted by K. M. Panikkar, about which consensus had been reached with his other fellow ambassadors, Sir R. Stevenson of Britain and Keith Officer of Australia.100 The aim was to pre-empt a communist answer to the problems of Southeast Asia. 'The ultimate solution seems clear: a confederation of South-east Asia with a planned and integrated economy, creating out of the small units in this region a viable State following a progressive economic and social policy.' In the short term, a consultative council of the states of the area was required to 'work out common policies and provide for an integrated economy capable of resisting the pressure of Communist economic doctrines'. To bring such a council into existence, 'Indo-China and Indonesia should acquire their political freedom and Malaya should have a constitutional set-up which will enable her at least to participate in economic policies'. Before a settlement was reached in Indonesia and Indo-China a programme should be prepared, providing for the reorganisation of agriculture, for the absorption of the masses into industry, for the regional integration of the economy, for 'a common system of education which will provide a background for democratic development': a programme, drawn up by men of the experience of Lord Hailey, that might 'blunt the appeal of communism and tame and regulate the revolutionary process in South-east Asia'. In preparing this, the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia and India should be involved. With France and the Netherlands, they might also form an advisory council to work with the consultative committee to procure the aid required. This, Stevenson recognised, might be regarded as an 'Imperialist Syndicate'. The alternative would be to entrust the advisory functions to the United States, with the powers making expertise and assistance available.101 The thinking here, George Kennan wrote, was 'similar to that set forth in our policy paper in Southeast Asia'.102 According to that paper, PPS 51 of 29 March, the 'continuing objective' was to encourage the

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Southeast Asian region 'to develop in harmony with the Atlantic Community and the rest of the Free World'. It was also the objective 'to contain and steadily reduce Kremlin influence in the region'. Neither could be done by bilateral relations: a 'wider concept' was needed, 'multilateral collaboration, primarily with certain British Commonwealth countries and the Philippines', with Southeast Asia 'as an integral part of that great crescent formed by the Indian Peninsula, Australia and Japan'. With the UK the United States should make a major effort to persuade the French and the Dutch to join in 'a constructive overall approach to the region as a whole'. That should be then discussed with the British, Indians, Pakistanis, Filipinos and Australians. There should be no formal organisation at the outset, and if Asian leaders precipitated one, the US should exert 'a cautiously moderating influence'. Economic interdependence among Southeast Asia, Europe and Japan should be developed, and Point IV emphasised. The Filipinos should be encouraged 'to take the initiative publicly in many projects which they, as Asians, can advance more rapidly than we, but always come to us for confidential and friendly guidance'.103 In keeping with this policy, Acheson rejected the idea of a Pacific pact at this juncture.104 The initiative of the Filipinos had to be checked and re-shaped, particularly as it was associated with the Chiang Kai-shek regime. The US otherwise proceeded, as the Foreign Office recognised, at a very deliberate pace. The policy developed by Kennan and his staff was circulated to heads of missions in July. 'It is expected that the matters presented in the report will at an early date be discussed by representatives of the United States and those of the United Kingdom and France.'105 The discussions with Britain took place in September. But, though the Kennan policy seemed in many respects to coincide with what the British wanted, the talks did not produce a very positive outcome. The administration, Dening concluded, had reached the limit of its ability to persuade Congress with Marshall Aid.106 The United States and the United Kingdom agreed on a regional approach. But while Dening stressed at once the importance of India and 'the necessity for prompting', Butter worth drew attention to the initiative of the Philippines. 'Politically, the Americans seem to think that the Asiatics should get together on their own initiative', though, Dening believed, little cohesion would result. 'I am afraid I detected a distinct tendency to use the Philippines as a stalking horse in South East Asia, while choosing to ignore the fact that this horse is not only weak-kneed but internally unsound . . .'107 The Foreign Office was indeed inclined to dismiss the calls for a Pacific pact that came from the Philippines. Carlos Romulo, its UN representative, was like 'theflyin the fable of theflyand the coach', Hibbert wrote. 'It is the horse which does the pulling and the

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horse in this case is likely to be India . . .'108 For his part, Butterworth 'reported that the British are reluctant to have a rival to the Empire in this part of the world; that they consider the Asiatics will be reluctant to do much unless pressed from behind and they consider the Empire the proper instrument of pressure. Bevin will, however, ask what economic help we can provide in Southeast Asia.'109 The top-level conversation that ensued, though also vague, was more positive. Acheson expressed the view that, if in handling nationalism the French and the Dutch followed 'the wise example' of the British, they would find that their hopes of saving more of their interests and their position in the Far East would be improved'. He thought it was important to encourage Asiatic countries to take the lead. Could Nehru play 'a more helpful role'? If India and the Philippines got together, 'it should be helpful, but the Philippine Government had not so far shown much sense in their dealings with China'. Bevin thought it 'necessary to proceed rather cautiously about encouraging India to take the lead, since there was a tendency among the smaller Asiatic Powers to fear Indian domination'. He had been 'trying to find some practical problem of common concern on which he could bring the countries in this area together'. Burma's financial troubles had proved 'a useful experiment in such co-operation'.110 By the end of the year, the President had approved conclusions of the National Security Council that in many respects, though not all, coincided with the aspirations of the British. The aim was to develop nations and peoples of Asia on 'a stable and self-sustaining basis'; to develop sufficient military power in selected non-communist countries to maintain internal security and prevent further encroachment by communism; to reduce and eventually eliminate the preponderant influence of the USSR; and to prevent any other nation or alliance in Asia threatening the US or Asiatic nations. To attain these objectives, the US should sympathise with Asian attempts to form regional associations, but not initiate them. It should form collective security arrangements, bearing in mind the reluctance of India to join. It should promote economic conditions that would contribute to political stability, for example through the Point IV programme, but avoid assuming responsibility for the welfare and development of the continent. It should consider a peace settlement with Japan, support Korea, continue to recognise the KMT regime, deny Formosa to the communists. 'The United States should continue to use its influence in Asia towards resolving the colonial-nationalist conflict in such a way as to satisfy the fundamental demands of the nationalist movement while at the same time minimizing the strain on the colonial powers who are our Western allies.' The French should recognise 'the urgency of removing the

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barriers to the obtaining by Bao Dai or other non-Communist nationalist leaders of the support of a substantial proportion of the Vietnamese'. The US should consider ways of aiding the new Republic of Indonesia. 'Active consideration should be given to means by which all members of the British Commonwealth may be induced to play a more active role in collaboration with the United States in Asia . . .' i n Both the US and the UK included Australia and New Zealand in their plans. So indeed did India and the Philippines. The two antipodean states had, unlike the UK itself, been invited to the New Delhi conference. Strang agreed with MacDonald that Australia's presence had been an advantage, preventing its being 'a line-up of Asia against the West',112 and Nye had told H. R. Gollan that the membership of the organisation the conference envisaged would have 'a beneficial and stabilising effect'.113 Evatt was keen on such a regional organisation, Fraser, in New Zealand, had no sympathy with it at all.114 Its anti-colonialism might pull the Commonwealth further apart, Wakeley thought. Anthony Rumbold believed that it would be ineffectual and fade away. There would be 'virtue in Australia retaining her nose in the Council Chamber' in the meantime. 'But I would do nothing to press New Zealand to join her there.'115 The position changed during 1950. The US, the UK and indeed the antipodean dominions were not in agreement over recognition of the PRC. The opening of the Korean war went some way towards uniting them. The British were, however, left out of the ANZUS Pact that accompanied the Japanese peace treaty. In other ways, too, the US became far more active than expected. It joined the Colombo Plan, but it also backed the French more fully and made a military assistance pact with Thailand. Aid for Burma

In New Delhi an Indian official, S. Dutt, queried British interest in Burma: he 'appeared to think that it consisted primarily in the large investments sunk there'. A. K. Cairncross and Murray told him that Britain's interest was 'primarily political since we wanted a stable Burma, partly economic since Burma could offer food and raw materials which would otherwise cost us dollars, and partly psychological since a setback in Burma would be a setback for the whole idea of self-government in S.E.Asia'.116 During 1948 the British government had concluded that the best option in respect of Burma was to preserve the existing regime, and the threat of communist China, on which it focused at the end of the year, did not change that view. Commonwealth members had been informed

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of the risks of collapse, clearly with the idea that they might be involved. An appeal from Nu early in 1949 prompted action. It also represented an attempt to turn India's activism to account, downplaying Nehru's focus on Indonesia and anti-colonialism, but enlisting his leadership in a way that would be acceptable to the British and others. On 7 January 1949 Nu suggested conversations with the British on defence and economic problems.117 Burma sought £32 million: £9 million to secure a one-third share in Burmah Oil; £10 million to secure the rice crop; and £13 million in budgetary assistance. A Commonwealth conference was suggested, with A. G. Bottomley going out for consultations.118 The Burma government indicated it would be glad to accept help from Commonwealth countries, and Nehru agreed to host a conference in Delhi, which MacDonald would also attend.119 Throwing good money after bad, Chifley grumbled: Burma had hardly left the Commonwealth when it came running back for help.120 The help sought was not, however, merely financial: it was military; and there was fighting, not only with the communists but with the Karens. Nu even talked of asking the UN for military help.121 It should be kept out, Dening wrote.122 But that did not lead the British to rush in. 'There were grave objections', Bevin told the Cabinet in London, 'to giving any assistance for military operations against the Karens, with whom the Burmese Government could have reached agreement at a much earlier stage if they had been prepared to grant a reasonable measure of local autonomy'. The Cabinet did not consider the alliance treaty contemplated aid in such circumstances and declined military assistance against the Karens. It wanted pressure on the Burmese government to reach a settlement.123 The Commonwealth governments should indicate that they would not provide military assistance for the purpose of suppressing the Karens; but that if a pacific settlement were reached with them and with 'other racial minorities', they might consider assistance to deal with 'communists and dacoits'.124 Many Karens had been converted by American Baptists, as Bevin recognised;125 and Loy Henderson, the US ambassador in New Delhi, suggested Indian mediation. But the British thought it would be 'unwise' to pursue this, given the current state of India-Burma relations.126 Ministers agreed that Bottomley should raise the matter, and also suggest that the conference might offer its services to assist in reaching a settlement.127 Not merely military, but even financial, aid was becoming dependent upon a resolution of the Burmese-Karen conflict. A memorandum the Foreign Office had given Bottomley canvassed the issue: 'we must . . . bring the best available talent into the Burmese Cabinet', it added, and 'get the Burmese Government to take power to delay the elections which in present conditions cannot possibly be impartial'.128 The

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language of the Foreign Office memorandum was interventionist. But the Indians and Pakistanis also concluded mediation must precede assistance.129 What Bottomley called a preliminary conference on mediation was timed for a visit Evatt was paying to New Delhi.130 The latter argued that 'only on the basis of mediation could we look forward to giving further assistance to Burma'.131 It was agreed that Nehru, on behalf of the preliminary conference, should suggest to Nu that Burma accept conciliation, and that the UK, India, Australia and Ceylon should send representatives to Rangoon to explore ways of bringing about a settlement.132 The meeting did not discuss finance,133 and the message to Nu did not refer to it.134 On 2 March Evatt told the press that Burma had made a mistake in leaving the Commonwealth, adding that he believed it would rejoin sooner or later. He spoke of mediation. 'Steps were taken with that end in view.'135 That press conference did not help, Sir G. Bajpai suggested.136 Pointing to Malaya, a Burma spokesman said Commonwealth countries had their own troubles.137 More significantly, Chan Htoon, Burma's Attorney-General, rejected mediation. 'No doubt one reason why the Burmese Government are loath to accept foreign conciliation over the Karen issue is their ineradicable suspicion that Karens are supported by foreign interests and their belief that the Karens themselves are hoping that their present insurrection will lead to foreign intervention', Bowker commented.138 Kyaw Nyein told him that the offer of conciliation had boosted the Karens, while Evatt's announcement had stirred nationalist feeling among the Burmese: the conference seemed to be aimed at bringing Burma back into the Commonwealth.139 In London, a disappointed Foreign Office suggested a follow-up meeting to consider Burma's reply and indicate that, given rejection of mediation, financial assistance could not be justified.140 Clearly the Foreign Office was concerned to preserve and develop the Commonwealth cooperation that had been achieved, Bottomley's advisers thought, but the line of action it proposed was unlikely to achieve that. The Burmese 'agreed to the holding of a Commonwealth Conference but the Conference they agreed to was one to discuss their request for financial assistance, not the Conference which was actually held and which discussed mediation'. Nehru could hardly convene a further conference to reiterate an offer already rejected.141 Indeed he turned down the idea of a further meeting.142 It was decided that Bottomley should return home rather than visit Burma: suspicion must be allowed to dissipate.143 Britain would consider interim measures until the time was more propitious for detailed discussion of long-term financial help. The Foreign Office suspected that the Burmese might be 'using the publicity which followed the

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meeting to justify an attitude which they might well have adopted anyway'. But Bowker should try to allay suspicions by renewed assurances that the British, like other Commonwealth countries, saw 'the maintenance of the independence, unity and stability of the new Burma as an important objective of their policy', and that the suggestion of conciliation was put forward in this spirit. Direct negotiations were really preferable.144 The Foreign Office had contemplated an unrealistic level of intervention. Even a more conciliatory line had little chance of success and Evatt's indiscretion dealt it a final blow. The question of financial assistance was not settled. But the fact that at most only interim measures would be considered suggested that it was still essentially tied to a political settlement. The Foreign Office agreed with Bottomley that Burma must make the next move.145 Even interim help was unwise unless Commonwealth cooperation were assured, the Far Eastern Official Committee considered.146 Bottomley had suggested to Chan Htoon, as a means of leaving a way for the Burmese to re-open the negotiations, that they should themselves ask that a representative of the conference countries should visit Rangoon 'to satisfy himself that the terms being offered by the Burmese Government to the Karens were reasonable, and if so to endeavour to persuade the Karens to accept them'.147 The Burma government suggested that Listowel visit Rangoon on his way back from Australia. He demurred. Given the 'onerous conditions' imposed by the Burmese government, he did not think talks would succeed; 'and his presence . . . would be regarded as further evidence of the failure of the Commonwealth to restore the situation in Burma'. In view of his failure in August 1947, he also doubted if the Karens would see him as an unprejudiced participant. The Burma government had also asked if Bowker would use his influence on the insurgents to enter negotiations on the terms offered. That the Cabinet China and South East Asia Committee also doubted. If he acted, it would be better if he did not act alone: the Burmese might otherwise play off one Commonwealth government against another. Given the urgency of the matter, he might, however, act for the others and keep in touch with their ambassadors in Rangoon. The urgency was increased because the ambassador, Maung Ohn, had told Cripps that communists had infiltrated among the Karens, and the younger ones were in consequence adopting 'an increasingly revolutionary and intransigent attitude'.148 Britain also wanted to strengthen 'the united Commonwealth front on Burma' begun at Delhi.149 At the end of March Bowker pointed out that the Burmese had received no official answer to their request for financial support. By their

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request for help over the Karens, they had given 'a positive indication of their wish to settle by negotiation'. Perhaps he might indicate that Britain and the Commonwealth governments would consider financial assistance 'as soon as sufficient prospect can be seen of restoring a reasonable degree of peace and stability in Burma'. The Commonwealth countries should be told that the prospect of restoring a degree of peace and stability was 'not entirely bleak', and invited to prepare a 'line of approach' on financial aid. Then Bowker could tell the Burmese government that the matter was being discussed.150 'Our Fabian tactics have . . . succeeded in forcing the Burmese to accept the conciliation proposals which they rejected when they were put forward by the Delhi meeting.' When the talks were under way, other governments should be approached.151 At Strang's instance, Britain decided to make the approach at once: it would not be a commitment, but it would encourage the Burmese.152 Attlee agreed.153 The response was cautious, and the Australians and Pakistanis wanted it discussed in London, where the Commonwealth prime ministers were about to meet. Meanwhile fighting had been resumed and Nu was again seeking arms supplies.154 He planned to raise ten new battalions from the frontier tribes, and from the UK he wanted weapons he could not get from India and Pakistan, Bevin told his colleagues on the Cabinet committee. The question should be discussed with the prime ministers: 'it would be far better for the Commonwealth Governments to use their influence in order to induce the new Burmese Government to make real efforts to obtain a peaceful settlement with the Karens.' The ambassador and the Minister for Shan Affairs had told Cripps that most of the Karens, 'especially the younger generation', were now on the government side. The movement was essentially communist, and it was necessary to 'fight the matter out'.155 They gave Bevin the same message, also mentioning possible incursions by Chinese communist bands from Yunnan.156 The department questioned whether these statements represented the real state of affairs.157 'The best hope that the present caretaker Government has of survival remains in making peace with the Karens despite the undoubted difficulty of so doing', Ledwidge wrote. At peace with the Karens, it could come to terms with the moderate PVO, hold elections, and act against the communists.158 Bevin wanted the policy reviewed in advance of the prime ministers' meeting, Robert Scott noted. 'Aid to Burma is a gamble . . .; but in my view any alternative policy would be even more hazardous', he added.159 That view the Foreign Office now put forward. Burma should be given arms and finance without insisting on prior restoration of law and order. It should be urged to come to terms with the main body of the Karens and that part of the PVO General Ne Win might be able to bring over.160

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In talking to Cabinet colleagues Bevin adopted the Burmese government's line: 'it was not so much the Karens they had to deal with as Communists making their own use of a nationalistic facade'. A large proportion of the Karens supported the government. That should be publicised, particularly in view of the sympathy in the US for the Karens, many of them converted by American missionaries. It was agreed that an effort should be made to induce other prime ministers to accept this interpretation. Arms, his colleagues also agreed, might be supplied, but it would take time. Of more immediate help would be some financial aid, designed to help in purchasing the rice crop: long-term aid could be justified only on political grounds and only if stability were restored, the Treasury representative declared. Listowel thought the Commonwealth governments should attempt mediation in respect of the Karens. Arms, aid, conciliation were linked, Bevin summed up. If the prime ministers agreed in principle, the working-out of the resulting policies should be left to a working party of Commonwealth officials set up in Rangoon, or, if that roused 'Burmese nationalist prejudices', in Colombo.161 The Foreign Office still could not confirm the Burmese ambassador's analysis. But it accepted that a solution of the troubles could not be a prerequisite to a loan: 'to make such a condition is unrealistic if we really want to help Burma.' Demands for arms would be treated less 'cautiously'.162 Attlee, Bevin, Alexander and Cripps put the proposal to a meeting of prime ministers on 28 April. The situation in Burma was 'deteriorating rapidly' and urgent measures were needed to assist the government 'unless the country was to be allowed to lapse into a chaos which might mean the victory of Communism'. Nehru said he had urged Nu to come to terms with the Karens. India had made arms available and he thought quite a small supply might turn the scale in favour of the government. Liaquat Ali Khan said that it would be 'fatal' to create the impression that Nu was 'dancing to the tune of the other Commonwealth Governments'. The idea of a coordinating committee in Rangoon was generally supported, though Fraser was doubtful. What effective steps could be taken if Burma would not make an open appeal for help? He was also afraid that any military and financial assistance might prove as ineffective as the American aid to KMT China.163 Chifley was not present. Next day he said that he supported the policy, but did not wish to be associated in the action. 'Consultation without cooperation', Liaquat Ali Khan exclaimed. '. . . After all their talk that's all that happens . . .' The Pakistani prime minister agreed with the change in British policy. 'If I were Thakin Nu', he said, 'and people told me to restore law and order first, I would go and make peace with the Communists. That advice is only another way of saying you don't mean to help.'164 Chifley retained his low opinion of the Burma government. He was also opposed to the

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sale of arms.165 He 'believed any country furnishing arms to Burma could expect same outcome as U.S. had with Nationalists in China'.166 The ministers contemplated a public announcement, provided it would not embarrass Nu. In fact the announcement became important because of misleading press speculation. The Daily Express linked the decision to give money and arms with rumours of Burmese application to rejoin the Commonwealth on the same terms as India.167 Another rumour, reported by Bowker, was that assistance was conditional on a settlement of the Karen issue.168 A statement was made in the House of Commons in London on 11 May in response to an inspired parliamentary question. It was, as Ledwidge explained, drawn in general terms so as to meet the fears of Nehru and Liaquat Ali Khan that their nationals in Burma might suffer if it were known that India and Pakistan were supplying the Burmese government with arms.169 Bowker had suggested a policy of short-term loans, with an indication that long-term loans would be considered when there was a prospect of a reasonable degree of peace and stability.170 Burma, he now urged, should be pressed to solve the Karen problem by negotiation. Like Fraser, he adduced the Chinese example: money was not enough. Nor were arms: indeed the Supreme Commander, Ne Win, was lukewarm about the frontier battalion scheme and would probably prefer to use the arms for Burman troops, although giving them arms had proved the surest way of equipping the government's enemies. Most Karens wanted a settlement, and they represented 'a far more reliable anti-Communist group than any other of the groups opposed to the Government'. With the Karen insurrection on its hands, the government could not defeat its PYA-Communist opponents, while a settlement would restore the Karen element of the Burmese army. The best approach would be 'under the cloak of financial discussions'. Once in Rangoon, Commonwealth representatives should point out that financial assistance would be wasted without political stability, and 'drive home . . . that the first essential step' was a settlement with the Karens. A round table conference might be held, attended, too, by representatives of the Shan, Kachin, and Karenni states and of the Chins, as participants and guarantors of any settlement, and perhaps by a representative or representatives of the four Commonwealth countries. If the Burmese government agreed to the conference, it should be offered short-term loans and it should be told that there would be long-term loans 'when there is an assured prospect of the restoration of a reasonable degree of peace and stability'. Britain should send a fairly senior minister.171 The Karen issue was thus reconnected with the aid issue. The Far Eastern Official Committee supported the concept, but thought it should be carried through not by ministers, but by the

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ambassadors in Rangoon. 'If we do not take a strong initiative now and accept the chances of failure, Thakin Nu's Government may well collapse in the near future . . .' Despatching ministers would take time and 'attract too much publicity'.172 A message by all four prime ministers would help to commit Pakistan and Ceylon, not merely India, to financial assistance.173 Bevin and Attlee approved the policy.174 Bowker was told that he and his colleagues should form themselves into 'a regular committee': governments would then find it easier to adopt the same policy, and Burma find it easier to cooperate. It was for him 'to make the running' and to lead his colleagues 'tactfully in the right direction'.175 Should they mention long-term aid? Bowker asked.176 It was not 'expedient raise Burmese hopes by mentioning this to them now', he was told. Short-term aid was not dependent on settling the Karen issue, but some definite move towards restoring stability was required.177 Bajpai thought the offer 'unlikely to lead to any concrete results in the near future'.178 When Bowker and the Indian and Pakistani ambassadors delivered the message, the response of Nu and his Foreign Minister was indeed 'very indignant'. The proposal for a round table conference was seen as mere repetition of a Karen proposal. 'We explained that the offer of financial help was not conditional on Burmese government accepting the suggestion and that of course any financial help given must inevitably depend on the progress made by the Burmese Government towards restoring stability.'179 Next day the Foreign Minister indicated that the Burma government could carry on without help for six months.180 Leslie Glass, back from Burma, attributed the refusal to 'a deep seated reluctance to accepting foreign aid amongst the more Leftwing political supporters of the Government', since it would mean 'some foreign interference and closer links with the Commonwealth'. Opponents of aid could 'cash in on resentment over the Karen problem', and the government, as usual, had 'decided to put off the evil day, and hope that something will turn up'. Let them face the hard fact: 'they will be along before long.'181 Similar suspicions affected the handling of the arms issue. Ne Win preferred equipping Burmese battalions, not new frontier battalions, as Nu proposed. The British Services Mission (BSM) did not think either could be carried fully into effect and the ambassadors' arms sub-committee agreed on arming and equipping only two battalions. Ne Win refused to seek the advice of the BSM. The pretext was its alleged sympathy with the Karens. More likely, his view was 'the result of innate Burmese suspicion of foreign influence of any kind'.182 Glass thought that Ne Win was not 'fundamentally hostile', but 'just the sort of undecided Burmese leader that we could most usefully work on'.183

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He was invited to England. In conversation with Bevin, he insisted that the offer of help had been made conditional on mediation with the Karens. Bevin denied this. He also said that he had preferred a Commonwealth approach to a merely British because he thought that, in view of the political conditions in Burma, it would be 'more effective if put on a broader basis'. The British, the Foreign Secretary said, 'were not going to undermine the Burma Government'. They 'had made a settlement with Burma and would keep [their] word'. They would not 'interfere in any way'. A transfer of power was 'always attended by grave difficulties and released forces which it was difficult to control. . . The way to solve these difficulties was for friends to stick together.' Ne Win and Bevin agreed about the threat from China: 'we would do all we could to help Burma'.184 In talks with A.V. Alexander, Ne Win expressed his suspicions about the loan offer and about the Services Mission. They arose in part from connections between British officers and Karens. Even at the staff college, Karens seemed to get better treatment than Kachins. General Thomas and General Temple had tried to increase the proportion of Karens in the Burmese National Forces beyond the one-third Mountbatten approved.185 General Temple, VCIGS, found the 'perpetual suspicions' of the Burmese 'extremely tiresome': he did not want the 66 officers of the BSM insufficiently employed. Temple pointed to the tussle between Nu and Ne Win over the constitution of the army.186 At a further meeting, Ne Win repeated the suspicions. Bowker, who was present, tried to disperse those about the loan offer. Alexander insisted that the British were 'as interested as the Burmese authorities to see a prosperous, united and fully independent Burma'.187 Bevin repeated this at a second meeting. While not making it a condition or pressing for a settlement, he pointed to the 'great advantage' to the government of Burma of a cessation of the Karen-Burmese fighting.188 Attlee replied to a letter Nu had sent Cripps, introducing Ne Win and the complaints. 'We really want to help Burma but we were worried lest our aid might be ineffective if the Karen-Burmese strife went on.' The gap did not seem wide, and an attempt to discuss a settlement on an all-Burma basis might be a good approach. 'There was no intention to imply that the Karens were in the right, nor that they should deal with the legal government of Burma on equal terms.'189 Privately Ne Win said that the condition was made by Britain, but not by India and Pakistan: a 'dangerous and untrue story', the Foreign Office declared;190 and Bajpai was irritated at 'this further attempt to play off one Commonwealth Government against others'.191 The policy Glass advised was nevertheless pursued: besides meeting Alexander and Bevin twice, Ne Win also met the king, and was presented to Princess

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Elizabeth.192 The State Department took some notice of him too: perhaps the 'biggest man' in Burma, it was felt. Events in Burma, American officials thought, would probably have 'a critical influence on the whole of South East Asia'. If French Indo-China and Burma 'both go communist, Siam would inevitably be drawn into the communist net'. The State Department therefore 'watched with sympathy and approval the attempts of Commonwealth countries to assist Burma to get on its feet', and it would be considering whether technical assistance under Point IV or cultural and educational activities would be more helpful. Officials also wondered whether the time had not come to 'bring some pressure to bear on the Karens'. There was the danger that the Burmese might treat them 'very shabbily', but it was nonetheless true that a settlement was 'an indispensable condition of stability'.193 E Maung, now the Foreign Minister, also visited London, partly, he said, because Nu wanted to check on what Ne Win had been up to.194 He also revived the question of aid: Burma would need some short-term assistance by October.195 Hector McNeil found him 'friendly and forthcoming', optimistic that the Karen trouble would soon subside, apprehensive about the Chinese communists in Yunnan.196 Dening told him that they were not likely to resort to force, 'at any rate for some time to come. What they would try to do would be to stimulate internal unrest and disorder'.197 The Foreign Minister put the loan figure at 35 crores (£26.25m), hardly, as J. I. C. Crombie put it in Rangoon, the British idea of short-term financial aid,198 though £9 million was for a joint oil venture.199 He looked, too, for assistance for Nu's scheme for equipping ten frontier regiments.200 Like Ne Win, E Maung also went to the US, where the State Department thought his optimism had an air of unreality, but found his confidence encouraging.201 The American ambassador in Rangoon suggested that the Burmese ambassador in Washington, So Nyun, was visiting Rangoon at E Maung's request to report to U Nu on Ne Win's activities in the US. A coup was possible.202 Later Crombie indicated that E Maung was himself reporting on Ne Win.203 In September the British began to reconsider the question of financial aid. The Treasury wanted it delayed, limited, and tied. Britain had large commitments and others could offer little. The law and order situation was bad, while Burma's financial embarrassment was, Glass wrote, 'a symptom, not the malady itself. While Britain did not want the Burmese to 'collapse utterly', they must 'eventually settle down on much lower standards all round than their experience of British days, or their inflated hopes for the future, have encouraged them to expect'. Large loans would not advance that process. The best that could be done might therefore be to hold out some hope for the future. But the results of a negative policy could include inflation, unrest and chaos, the

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abandonment of the more friendly policy to foreign capital recently adopted and 'a swing towards the soviet bloc' on the part of politicians 'who are wondering when is the best moment to climb on the bandwagon of the mighty and victorious armies of Communist China'. The results might not in fact be so dramatic, but India and Pakistan should appreciate the risk, which could even require them to deploy the troops in face of a communist invasion. The Americans, Glass added, should be kept informed. Just possibly they 'might enable us to give more aid', though their embassy in Rangoon called Burma ' (for money purposes) "the biggest rat hole in Asia"'.204 An interdepartmental meeting had £7.5 million in mind.205 In London the Treasury argued that there was no case for aid, political circumstances apart. The political arguments drew on those in the papers the Permanent Under-Secretary's committee had prepared, just taken to Cabinet. 'With the approach of Chinese Communism to her borders, Burma holds an important position in the general scheme of an anti-Communist regional cordon.' A turnabout would damage the atmosphere in Colombo. The main argument the FO and CRO put was not that positive advantage will accrue from a loan but that serious consequences will follow its refusal. Their view is, that in view of these consequences, it is too early yet to write off Burma, and there is a case for giving a modest loan to the Burmese in which to buy time to have a last chance to restore internal law and order . . .206 'We have reached a critical period in our relations with Burma', Scott argued at the Foreign Office. The Burmese were 'acutely sensitive to any pressure brought to bear on them to come to terms with the minorities'; they had not come to grips with the internal situation; they had not used arms supplies well, nor the British Services Mission. But Britain had important economic and strategic interests in Burma; 'it is potentially the biggest food exporter in South East Asia; and it is a great experiment in self-government by a former subject people, with the success of which our own prestige in the area is to some extent linked.' There was a moral commitment to assist Burma, and it was 'a constructive exercise in Commonwealth co-operation in an area . . . where cooperation is vital unless it is to fall under Communist control in a short time'. American experience in China showed that outside assistance, without self-help, was ineffective. 'The Americans are watching the Burma situation and see a parallel in it with China, though they are at present content to leave the initiative to us.' But if the situation deteriorated, 'we may have to appeal to the U.S. or to the U.N.' Scott advocated offering half of the £7.5 million loan suggested, not with conditions, but with a warning.207 Burma was at a cross-roads, Makins added: if the aid were given, 'the

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Burmese will need firmer handling and plainer speaking than they have yet received if they are to put their house in order'.208 Ministers agreed on a £7.5 million ways-and-means loan, other Commonwealth countries, Australia included, being asked to put up half of the money. The most pressing need was an agreement with the Karens, and Attlee agreed to appeal direct to Nu, who had withdrawn into 'semi-seclusion'.209 Attlee spoke firmly to E Maung during a further visit in December, drawing his attention to the communists' advance in Yunnan, the possibility that KMT troops would seek refuge over the border, the risk that the communists would pursue them and the need for a 'strong and wise hand . . . to rally all the elements in Burma who were prepared to support the Government and to put an end to the disorders'.210 No message was sent, however. For a long delay ensued while the other governments were consulted over the loan proposal: that, said Bowker, would add to the impression the Commonwealth was not genuinely anxious to help.211 It was agreed to discuss the matter at Colombo but, if no agreement were reached there, the British decided to make available £3.75 million or £4 million themselves. Some argued that there was a risk that the funds would be misused and that the Burmese government would thus be enabled to maintain an intransigent attitude towards the Karens. Against this it was argued that conditions would not be acceptable. Aid was a 'gamble; but, if it was possible by this means to prevent Burma from falling into Communist control, the gain would far outweigh any financial risk involved'. The Burmese government had 'already displayed a cohesion and tenacity far greater than had originally been expected'.212 The brief for the British at Colombo stressed the need to associate India, Pakistan and Ceylon 'with the examination of Burma's problems and in any assistance to her in arms or money', and also to interest Australia and New Zealand in Burma 'as one of the main problems of South-East Asian security'.213 At Colombo, Ceylon, India, Pakistan and Australia agreed to contribute to the £7.5 million loan. Nehru referred to the Karen dispute: 'the position was extremely delicate, as the Burmese Government naturally resented any attempt to interfere in their domestic affairs.' Bevin agreed. Any initiative by Britain was, moreover, 'liable to be misunderstood', and he hoped that the Asian members of the Commonwealth would take every opportunity to impress on the Burma government 'the vital importance of securing an early settlement of this unfortunate dispute'.214 At Colombo, as he told Ohn in February,215 Bevin did all he could to hasten a decision. India, Pakistan, Ceylon, the UK and, in the event, Australia agreed to lend a total of £6 million.216 That again raised the question of a settlement with the Karens, since it had been agreed in

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November that Attlee would write to Nu when the loan was offered. The letter might, Glass thought, include some positive suggestions. A settlement might be more readily accepted by the Karens if it were guaranteed by the Commonwealth or the UN. Burma would claim that it was 'a purely internal matter . . . nor perhaps would we wish to get the Security Council concerned with events in Burma'. But the Secretary-General might be asked informally to suggest an impartial mediator: he would not report to the UN, but any breach of an agreement reached under his chairmanship would 'cause world criticism'.217 The idea got nowhere. 'We certainly don't want another Indonesia in the Security Council, even if Soviet membership is temporarily eclipsed by the Chinese difficulty . . . Heaven forbid that Mr Lie should be encouraged to set up as, or to appoint, any sort of "mediator" in internal disputes, particularly those with a "colonial" or Asiatic flavour.'218 In a letter sent to Bevin in Colombo, only delivered in London, E Maung had again raised the question of equipping ten frontier battalions, not, he insisted, a matter of dispute between Nu and Ne Win.219 The Burmese Foreign Minister had spoken to Bowker of the threat to the Chinese border and of Nu's interest in a defence pact; but the ambassador had indicated that aid was questionable while Burma was 'in a state of acute internal dissension', and that more frankness on military matters would be a prerequisite. He recommended telling the Burmese that, after the proposed loan, no more could be done until, 'by their efforts to restore law and order, and by taking us generally into their confidence, [they] persuade us that any further assistance will be put to effective use'.220 In their conversation, Bevin told Ohn that a settlement with the Karens would 'make a very favourable impression' on Britain and the Commonwealth governments. 'He did not wish to interfere', but to indicate that he was at Nu's disposal. Ohn said the government had been 'very sensitive' ever since Evatt's announcement of 2 March. That, said Bevin, was not Britain's policy: any initiative on the Commonwealth was Burma's. 'What we did not want was that Burma should fall to pieces. We would take Burma by the hand if Burma wanted it so: but it was for Burma to decide.' Ohn said the Karens were 'too obstinate and did not trust Thakin Nu despite his generosity to them'. Bevin repeated that he was willing 'to do anything he could in a quiet way towards settlement, but that he would take no action excepting at the request of the Burmese'.221 Ohn was repeating an old theme, Bowker commented.222 Perhaps, Scott thought, Britain should be rather more positive than the ambassador suggested: the frontier battalions might defend the frontier and be a nucleus for the moderates if Burma broke up.223 Even so, more information was needed. The Burmese approached the US, which,

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however, indicated that its aid must be complementary to Commonwealth aid: it did not want the Burmese playing off one country against another.224 The US was told that if there were to be aid, frontier supplies might be the best form; but that there were 'so many arms in Burma already' that Britain needed evidence that the scheme was practicable and that the equipment was needed and would be used for that scheme.225 The ambitions of Ne Win and the Karen conflict were, of course, in mind. The Foreign Office now planned, not a letter from Attlee to Nu, but one from Bevin replying to E Maung, which would also take up the suggestion MacDonald had renewed: that he should visit Burma.226 Nu's government, taking the line of least resistance, kept on asking for arms and money to boost its position temporarily. A 'friendly lead' from the British government was needed. The situation in Burma was 'drifting in a dangerous manner, bearing in mind the general deterioration in the situation in the Far East'. What Burma needed was 'not so much arms and finance as statesmanship and a willingness to take responsibility'. It was 'sensitive' to outside pressure and particularly 'suspicious' of the British government. But 'we must do our best to persuade the Burmese to do something effective for themselves. If we delay, pressure from China and co-operation between the Burmese Communists and the Chinese Communists may lead to the Burmese situation getting out of hand.' In any case, 'drift' could only mean more requests for aid, 'which we shall be less and less able to give'. The Foreign Office contemplated a 'friendly but frank letter' to E Maung, suggesting a statement in the House of Commons declaring 'that in our view it is the duty of all union nationals who have the welfare of their country at heart to come together to compose their differences'; and a follow-up visit by the Commissioner-General. In anticipation, the Ministry of Defence might examine the possibility of arming five frontier battalions.227 Bowker now doubted whether a message should be delivered. The government had made progress against the Karens, and any reference to the need for a possible settlement would 'merely create the greatest possible resentment'. An official message would be taken as a lack of sympathy, and contrasted with the helpful attitude of the Americans, shown by the Jessup and Griffin missions sent to Southeast Asia early in 1950.228 Plain speaking might be better done during MacDonald's visit.229 A short message for the Foreign Minister was substituted.230 Bowker and the Foreign Office did not always agree about means, but they did about ends. Burma needed to put its house in order. The Foreign Office leaned to inducement; the ambassador to challenge and condition. There was an element of risk: would Burma collapse if nothing were done? The impact of China entered this calculation. It was

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an argument, as the Burmese recognised, for assistance. But where would that assistance go? That was not merely a question of waste and inefficiency. It also related to the Karens, with whom the British had considerable sympathy, as, for other reasons, had the Americans. Over any interference, however, but especially over this, the Burmans were sensitive. Aid was not easy to give because it was not easy to receive. Burma had some economic and strategic importance, but for Britain it was above all of political importance. It was an example to others of a policy which the British believed should apply elsewhere in Southeast Asia. It was not important that Burma should be in the Commonwealth. What was important was that Burma should be a viable independent state. Though staying in might have reassured the Karens, it was not a policy that could now be pursued. The idea had been raised again when the rules were changed to suit India's aspiration to be a republic, but only, it seems, in the newspapers. The Bamakhit blamed Burma's troubles on the failure to offer it a middle way in 1947. 'Any disappointment at the failure of the Commonwealth to produce immediately the wholesale unconditional financial and military assistance which the Burmese have already persuaded themselves is due to them as a right will no doubt cause a further swing away from the idea of rejoining the Commonwealth.' The government had given no indication that it was in favour, and in any case was not in control of most of the country.231 It was not, of course, an issue on which Britain could take the initiative, as Bevin told Ohn when he alluded to Evatt's statement of the previous year. Britain, indeed, might not wish to do so. Nu, Ohn told Bottomley in December 1949, wanted to return to the Commonwealth as an independent republic like India, but the political situation was so delicate that it was difficult to achieve. Tt would be a tremendous fillip to British prestige in the world if this did come off, Glass commented, 'but the powerful pro-Soviet bloc in Burma would pull violently against it, and it would probably split the country still further; nor would we welcome the return of such a weak and threatened prodigal son without much thought. '232 Heavy military and financial responsibilities would fall mainly on the UK. But it would offer 'intangible benefits . . . in the way of prestige', and put the British 'on a very much better footing to promote the restoration of stability in Burma and to improve its defences against Communism'.233 The argument was, however, somewhat circuitous. It was Burmese suspicions of Britain that inhibited Burma's seeking to return to the Commonwealth, now that the 1947 provisions had changed. But, if those suspicions were removed, Britain would be in a better position to aid Burma anyway. What had never been established - by control, by constitutional advance, by the granting of independence -was trust.

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The Round Table agreement on Indonesia Before the Dutch again resorted to military action in December 1948, MacDonald had made a sombre forecast about its likely impact elsewhere in Southeast Asia. Burma might bring it to the UN; Siam would be 'relatively unconcerned'; Xuan would be 'critical, but probably not to the point of breaking off with the French, who would sympathise with the Dutch'. Communist parties would use the opportunity to attack all imperialists, including the British, and moderates, alienated by communist action in Malaya and Java, would despairingly turn back to them. In Malaya military action would cause 'a wave of sympathy' among the Malays, and stimulate demands for self-government and support for the idea of Greater Indonesia. Conservative elements among the Malays, who favoured a gradual advance to dominion status, might have 'to adopt a more vigorous policy for fear of losing supporters to the advocates of immediate independence'. Dutch military action would play into the hands of communists and extremists, and into the hands of the Soviet Union. 'British attempts to bring national and political liberty and a higher standard of living to the peoples of South East Asia would suffer a setback.'234 'We should surely be careful to keep reminding everyone that we have no quarrel with nationalists, but only with agents of Russian imperialism.'235 Britain had its own scheme for handling nationalism, to which it hoped that not only the indigenous leaders, but also the other colonial powers, would accommodate. It was indeed in this way that it sought to reconcile its European and its Asian interests. In varying forms that had been an issue in the case of the Dutch ever since the colonial ventures began, and post-war regionalism was a new answer to a re-phrased question. The Cold War made the problem worse. It bound the Western powers closer together in face of the threat in Europe and the offer of American aid. But that made it more difficult to dissociate the British from the imperialism of others. In turn that added to the challenge of involving India in its policy for Southeast Asia, and in the case of Indonesia, the same applied to Australia, too. The US had now become more impatient with the Dutch, and the British, once anxious for them to act, had tried to moderate their action. The police action did not entirely dislodge this approach. Keeping a European presence in Southeast Asia remained a British aim. The strategy remained; the tactics had to differ. The Dutch action prompted 'the deepest regret' in London. The British, too, resented the fact that the Dutch had imposed a time limit which precluded the exercise of the good offices they had sought,236 for which Stikker was to blame Beel.237 The US, no doubt also feeling

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'double-crossed', asked for the Security Council to be summoned. 'Our quandary', Dening wrote, 'is that while on the one hand we should wish to support the Netherlands as a member of the Western Union', and not allow Article 2 (VII) to be 'lightly set aside, on the other we are faced with the fact that all Asiatics, plus certainly Australia, plus probably other members of the Commonwealth and apparently also the United States, are opposed to the Dutch action'. The Security Council might be driven to sanctions. In any case the Dutch had 'widened the rift between East and West, and . . . our efforts to unify East and West in South East Asia in order to strengthen our position there are far less likely to succeed than they were before the Dutch move . . .'238 The Dutch would not be deflected, as in August 1947, Sir Philip Nichols reported. A 'very strongly worded resolution' in the Security Council would, however, drive them 'into the wilderness', with unfortunate effects on Western cooperation in economic and defence matters.239 The draft resolution called on the two parties to cease hostilities, and upon the Dutch to release Sukarno and other political prisoners they had taken. The Dutch had hoped the British would vote against it, or at least against the second part, but Bevin and Attlee had decided it was impossible to do so.240 Philip Jessup, the acting US representative, was 'in the mood of an avenging angel', as Harvey put it. The French were reluctant to be involved, but, though Scrivener had predicted a degree of satisfaction that Dutch action would help to convince the world of the need for a strong policy in Indo-China also,241 were not in fact free from 'a certain irritation that the Dutch should have precipitated this crisis with all the consequences it may entail for Western Union and for the French in Indo-China'.242 Schuman wanted the Security Council to act moderately towards the Dutch.243 The resolution passed on 24 December.244 Dening did not think the Dutch would give way. Would sanctions follow? No doubt his colleagues had considered the implications for Western Union. He did not think that the British would strengthen their position in Asia 'by joining to the extent of sanctions in the hue and cry against a Western Power, however wrongly and obstinately and foolishly she may have behaved'.245 Indeed the Australians had been told that sanctions would be 'politically dangerous and . . . ineffective',246 and the French and Belgians were told that support of the resolution was not seen as a commitment to sanctions if the Dutch refused to comply.247 Nor, in fact, was the US so committed. The Economic Cooperation Administration suspended the issuance of authorisation of supplies destined to be used in Indonesia.248 That and the resolution, Lovett told Franks, helped to canalise the rising tide of popular indignation in the US.249 The State Department preferred pressure on the Dutch, and

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pressure on the UK and France themselves to exert pressure.250 The UK was invited to do so: Dutch refusal could have a serious effect on the solidarity of western Europe and on American public opinion in respect of it.251 Sir Francis Shepherd had urged that the Dutch must set a date for the transfer of power,252 and the Foreign Office had called for a bold plan, 'somewhat on the analogy of our actions in India', that would be accepted by the bulk of Indonesians and lessen guerrilla warfare.253 Nichols had also urged the Dutch to send a conciliatory reply to the Security Council, even if they could not comply with the resolution. Stikker said he was ready to include Hatta in the government, but the Catholics were not. Given the need for elections, it was difficult to fix a date for the transfer of power. He also 'made it plain that he could not control Catholic leaders who were sending telegrams to Beel'.254 The Foreign Office thought the further message the State Department proposed would be seen as a 'challenge', and lead to a 'rebuff, and to a call for sanctions. It would be 'disastrous' if the Indonesian question affected 'the broad picture of world defence which we have been building up with the United States and on which we are both convinced the future depends'. Russia was only too anxious to see us 'falling into the trap . . . We have a far more difficult role. We must try and influence the Dutch, hold France who is involved in Indo China, Belgium who is a part of Benelux and steady India and Pakistan', Bevin added.255 Much was at stake, Nichols was told. The Dutch must be persuaded to rescue the situation in which they had involved the British as well as themselves. 'Despite the difficulties I nevertheless believe that the Dutch have a real opportunity if they can rise to it to put matters back on the right track.'256 The right track was the kind of big gesture the Dutch (like the French) had never been able to make. It might conciliate the Indonesians, preserve the US commitment to Europe, appease India, and keep the UN out. The Dutch Cabinet was divided: Stikker and Drees were at odds with the Catholics. No bold statement could be made. The hope was that the whiff of grapeshot would work quickly. In the meantime the Security Council resolution could not be accepted. Further resolutions followed on 28 December: one called on the Dutch for the immediate release of the political prisoners; another requested a report on the military situation from the consular representatives.257 The government decided to send Drees to Indonesia to ensure the carrying out of the Dutch programme for an interim government and USI with diligence and good faith. That was only achieved, Lovink told Baruch, by 'extreme efforts' on the part of Stikker and the Prime Minister.258 Nichols was instructed to tell him that 'the dust has by no means died down' because the

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Security Council had now adjourned. The only way the Dutch could 'get themselves out of the situation into which their ill-considered action had precipitated them, and also to a certain extent their colleagues of the Western Union', was to take 'a bold and statesmanlike step forward by setting up a federal interim government as soon as possible, to include the recognisable representatives of the Republic, and to set a firm date for the transfer of power'. If they did, Bevin would lend his good offices, but he was not prepared to support a minority in the Dutch Cabinet that proved in the end unable to prevail. In 1947 the offer of good offices was rejected and followed by repressive military action. In December 1948 he was asked to act, and more military measures were 'the only result'. If the Dutch would not make 'a really constructive effort', it would be impossible to convince India and Australia that 'any purpose is to be served by shielding the Netherlands Government from the consequences of their own actions . . . I cannot afford to be let down again.'259 'The Dutch must be disabused of any idea that, having concluded their military operations successfully, they can now sit back and afford to flout world opinion. They may think they have achieved a short-term success. We . . . are by no means sure that they have not in the long-term put an end to Dutch rule and influence in Indonesia.' Shepherd was to encourage the republican leaders to negotiate, though in detention. The Indonesian purpose would be best served by the setting-up of an allIndonesian federal interim government, and by participation in the early establishment of federal Indonesian forces. 'The whole basis of cooperation between East and West, which we have been striving so laboriously to establish, is at stake.' Sir Francis was 'to bring home to Dutch and Indonesians alike the absolute necessity of reaching an accommodation in spite of all that has passed'.260 Bevin suggested to Michiels, also going to Indonesia, that the Dutch should call a conference of all parties and offer their scheme of an interim government, together with a firm date. India and Pakistan might then adopt a constructive attitude . . . Both . . . saw the need for a close association between Western Europe and South East Asia, in view of the growing opposition between Russia and the United States. Our policy was to make friends in South East Asia for many years to come, and to maintain our trade and our economic position there.

Possibly a Southeast Asia conference could be called at no distant date, including India, Pakistan, Ceylon, Australia, New Zealand and the western European powers. 'But the Dutch must show, in any declaration they make, that they appreciated nationalist sentiment in South East Asia

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and intend to follow a forward looking policy.' If they did, Britain would use its influence with Asiatic countries to help them.261 In fact Nehru soon after summoned his conference in New Delhi. The UK was not asked, and that might avoid embarrassment if the conference took an extreme line, Gordon-Walker suggested. The attendance of Australia and New Zealand could avoid polarisation between Asia and Europe and counterbalance India's efforts to speak for Asia; but Australia might follow the line it had followed at the UN, condemning the Dutch.262 Bevin did not propose 'to display undue interest'. The Indian move was 'designed to stir up trouble between East and West'. Australia and New Zealand might find themselves 'involved in the manoeuvre', but it was for them 'to decide what to do'.263 Doubts about Britain's policy and its connexion with Western Union were deepened by its abstention at the Security Council. Bevin fenced with the high commissioners in London on 8 January.264 He denied he had been 'hood winked' by the Dutch. Britain's object was a settlement. Condemnatory resolutions that could not be implemented only weakened the Security Council. 'We did not have separate policies for Asia and for Europe and . . . his aim was to promote closer co-operation in terms of full equality between Europe and Asiatic countries. We had been carrying out a consistent policy in all parts of the world.'265 India and Australia wanted to criticise the Dutch in public in order to restore Britain's prestige in Asia. 'This I am reluctant to do: because I do not think it would make the Netherlands Government any more cooperative; because of our commitments under Western Union; and because strong public criticism may make the Netherlands Government even more intransigent and so further delay a settlement in Indonesia.'266 Bevin explained the policy to the Cabinet, too. Collision between the UN and the Dutch might, he added, prompt the dilemma of sanctions. The Dutch, too, might insist that the council was not competent in the matter, and that was a claim Britain would find it difficult to contest.267 Baudet indeed told Dening that Britain was taking 'rather a strong line with the Dutch', urging them to set up USI as soon as possible. Dening replied that Dutch action 'cut right across the efforts which we were about to make, as he knew from my visit to Paris, to build up a front against communism in South East Asia'. Now all Asia was against the Dutch, 'and we were all in great danger of a cleavage between East and West which could only be harmful to all of us'.268 The success of the police action was limited: by the end of February the situation in West Sumatra, for example, was 'strongly reminiscent of the Netherlands under German occupation', while there was a 'daring attack' on Yogya on 1 March.269 The council resolutions and the New

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Delhi conference 'stimulated guerilla warfare', as Nichols put it, and 'made the Federalists wait very warily to see which way the cat would jump and consequently on which side their bread was buttered'. Meanwhile the Dutch did nothing about the December resolutions 'except to pay them some rather cynical lip-service'.270 A new resolution E. J. M. A. Sassen, the Minister of Overseas Territories, sought to head off: it would mean 'finis' for Holland in Indonesia, impoverishment and communism in the Netherlands.271 In vain: the resolution of 28 January called for the restoration of the republican leaders to Yogya. It set up a UN Commission for Indonesia to assist in negotiations based on the principles of the Linggadjati, Renville and Cochran documents. The timetable would involve an interim federal government by 15 March, elections by October and a transfer of sovereignty to USI by July 1950 at the latest. Cadogan voted for it.272 Bevin told the Australian High Commissioner that the Netherlands government appeared 'ready to co-operate', and that it was 'everybody's duty . . . to assist the negotiations and not to be too prejudiced against the Dutch'. His chief fear was that, if the Indonesians followed 'a difficult policy. . ., they might find themselves in a state of absolute chaos'. Unless 'great care were taken', the situation 'might grow even worse than that of Burma. To have a whole series of countries in SouthEast Asia in a state of bankruptcy and chaos would create . . . a frightful situation.'273 The Foreign Secretary took the same line with the Pakistani High Commissioner. Again he hoped the Pakistanis might influence their co-religionists 'to adopt a more cooperative attitude to the Dutch, just as we were advising the Dutch to be more forthcoming in their attitude towards the Indonesians'. The object was to create conditions for a peaceful transfer of power as on the Subcontinent, and for a continued Dutch-Indonesian relationship.274 Meeting the republicans as well as federalists on his visit, Strang offered the former the analogy with the Subcontinent. Sjahrir commented that 'both the British and the Indians were great peoples and could treat their problems in a broadminded manner. Both the Dutch and the Indonesians were small peoples and they were apt to treat their problems in a small way'.275 Bevin was apprehensive about too rigid an approach. That might drive the Dutch to flout the Security Council and sanctions and Dutch withdrawal might follow. The Indonesians might concentrate on getting rid of the Dutch, rather than on preparing to rule, and Indonesia might become another centre of instability. 'Finally there is a very serious danger that our relations, both with Asiatic nations and certain members of the Commonwealth . . ., and with Western Union powers . . ., will be jeopardised by the failure of both these groups to realise the actual issues at stake, which have become obscured as a result of natural indignation aroused by the behaviour of the Dutch.' What was needed was a real

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effort to come to a solution, since until it was achieved Britain would continue to be exposed to these dangers.276 'South-East Asia was gravely threatened by the recent advances of Communism in the Far East', members of Cabinet observed, 'and the sudden withdrawal of Dutch power might leave Indonesia chaotic and helpless in the face of the opposing threats of Communist infiltration or American financial imperialism.' The Dutch had 'signally failed to recognise the strengths and implications of the local nationalist movement, or the need for swift and generous action' like that in India in 1947.277 Britain's views - but not the reference to American imperialism - were conveyed to Washington.278 There it was stressed that the Dutch must follow the resolution before the Indonesians were pressed to put their house in order.279 Commonwealth governments, which were sent parts of the FO analysis,280 shared this view. The republic had put down the communists.281 Instability was due to Dutch intransigence.282 'It will be most difficult. . . for the Republican group to be persuaded towards moderation and the giving of effect to the SC resolution so long as there is a suspicion that Netherlands policy may be merely to press their advantage so as to circumvent the intent of the SC.'283 The 'Beel Plan' which the Dutch had been discussing, and which Stikker had outlined to Cochran when the latter visited The Hague,284 was not quite what the British had in mind:' desperate attempt to buy off the United Nations with a spectacular acceleration of the transfer of sovereignty', Nichols was to call it.285 Federalists and republicans would be encouraged to form an interim government based on the BIO decree: then, over a period not expected to take more than two months, agreements would be made on the union, on economic and financial matters, and on defence, to come into force when sovereignty was transferred.286 In Washington Butterworth pointed out that it did not go to the 'crux' of the situation: the liberation of the leaders and the cessation of hostilities. The failure to implement the Security Council resolution might lead to an unfavourable report at the UN, and the question of sanctions might be raised.287 Two months was too short: in the event, the negotiations might take an indefinite time; and there was thus no fixed date for transfer as in the council resolution. The British themselves, though finding some advantages in the plan, felt that it gave the Indonesians too little choice: the Dutch were 'offering early transfer on own terms and without regard [to the] Indonesian point of view'.288 It would be seen as an attempt to circumvent the resolution. The Foreign Office still hoped that the Dutch would adopt a 'conciliatory line' and the resignation of Sassen might lead that way.289 The Dutch government now proposed to convene a Round Table Conference (RTC) in The Hague, if possible on 12 March, to cover the creation of a federal interim government, and 'devise the necessary

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arrangements for a considerably accelerated transfer of sovereignty'.290 The proposal did not include restoration of the republican government in Yogya. This point appears to be critical as between Dutch and Republicans on one hand and as between Dutch plan and SC resolution on the other.'291 If the leaders nevertheless went to The Hague, as Cochran put it, 'they risk losing support military and other scattered leaders and suffering deep humiliation if Netherlands attitude does not improve over that demonstrated to Republicans and to world in past' ,292 He told T. Elink Schuurman of the Dutch delegation to the GOC that the US had hoped the Dutch would consummate an agreement with 'conservative Hatta regime' after it put down Madiun: the group had suffered by the subsequent military action, and should be given the 'best possible opportunity now appeal effectively to their followers'.293 In London Attlee, Bevin and their colleagues thought the handling of the republican leaders a 'political blunder'. If that part of the proposal were altered, Britain 'would use its best endeavours to secure general acceptance of the plan'.294 If pressed on the question of restoring the Republican government to Yogya, Nichols thought, the Dutch government would resign.295 'The Govt. will be even stupider than I give them credit for if they: (a) do not give way; (b) resign', Dening commented.296 In Paris, Averell Harriman told Stikker of a delay in the Military Assistance Program. Though H. A. Helb was assured in Washington it was 'not devised as a means of pressure',297 it clearly was: Lewis Douglas, the US ambassador, told Bevin that it might be found 'impracticable' to supply arms to the Dutch 'unless and until the Indonesian problem was settled'. Bevin did not think he could put more pressure on the Dutch 'without upsetting the whole Administration and probably creating chaos in Indonesia and thus making matters much worse. After all, the Indonesians were not experienced in government and they needed help or their country might become another Burma. Could we not be more helpful?'298 Michiels made a 'personal' approach to the Foreign Office: if the Dutch gave way over Yogya, would the UK tell the US and Commonwealth governments that it thought the Dutch plan should be given a trial; instruct Shepherd to urge the republicans to accept the invitation to the RTC; tell the Security Council that, though the plan did not conform to the letter of the resolution, it offered a possible solution and should be tried out; and if the republicans still stood out, say in public that they were in the wrong?299 Graves told Reed that Harriman's communication had 'evidently shaken the Netherlands Government considerably'. Not enough, Reed thought: the US could not support any action that departed from the resolution of 28 January, unless the parties agreed, and a majority of the Security Council also.300

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Nichols thought that the Dutch Cabinet itself would be willing to allow the government to return to Yogya on five conditions - that the republic's army did not return; that no demarcation line were fixed; no separate currency established; no victimisation practised; no further concessions asked of the Dutch - provided that the British urged the US to persuade the republicans to go to the RTC, and the US itself to accept the conditions. Bevin was ready to endorse all but the fifth condition: some further hitch might occur. He told his Cabinet colleagues that he 'had used every endeavour to persuade the United States to be less punctilious over the Security Council's Resolution and to induce the Dutch to be more conciliatory'. He was prepared to make 'a further effort'. His colleagues agreed. 'It was pointed out that the early settlement of the Indonesian question would have an important stabilising influence on Malaya. Moreover, unless some satisfactory solution were reached in the near future, continued friction with the Dutch would have a serious effect on our collaboration with them within the Western Union.'301 If the Security Council could be confronted with a situation in which the republican leaders had agreed to attend the Hague conference, 'it would be left with no grounds for criticism'.302 Bevin's reply to a letter from Stikker, relayed to the US, put little emphasis on the conditions, much more on the need to return the leaders to Yogya. If they were not, there would be deadlock and none of the Security Council requirements would have been met. If they were, the leaders would be in a better position to secure a cease-fire on the part of the guerrillas.303 'The drift in this Indonesian question was a menace to the peace of all South-East Asia', Bevin told Douglas.304 The US now instructed its delegation at the United Nations that it should support the resolution of 28 January, but that, if the republic leaders were returned to Yogya, they would support the RTC proposal as a reasonable alternative. The British instructed Cadogan to support this, and Nichols to tell the Dutch that it would restore 'their whole position in world opinion'.305 They also welcomed a Canadian suggestion that the UN Commission should be instructed to call a meeting in Batavia to resolve the issue.306 By the end of the month this proposal had broken the deadlock. Bevin discussed the issue with Acheson in Washington. The Dutch had been 'foolish', but constant criticism made them more obstinate. Now the time had come to press the republicans. Acheson thought the Dutch had been 'very pigheaded' in Indonesia: 'they always made their concessions too late.' If they got their representative, Van Roijen, out to Batavia with the minimum of delay and told him to get a quick settlement, Cochran would be instructed to use his influence with the republicans.307 The Commonwealth countries were encouraged to prompt the

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parties to seize the opportunity for a settlement.308 Bevin told Stikker that his government 'must now take a big line as they would never get another opportunity like this'.309 The South East Asia Department still had 'doubts about the Dutch', which Dening shared. 'They still seem to want to negotiate with the Republican leaders as persons divested of all authority, and that does not make any sense.'310 But in Batavia Shepherd and his deputy A. C. Stewart secured assurances from Van Roijen and preached sermons to Darmasetiawan Notohadmodjo, Hatta's representative.311 The Australians had no confidence in the Batavia discussions, according to a telegram in which Palliser detected the 'acrid pen of Dr Burton . . . Over Indonesia the Australians are as stiff-necked as their bete-noire, the Dutch.'312 He wondered whether the Australians were behind the 'tough' Republican line;313 their attitude was, Lloyd feared, 'still a big stumbling block to a settlement'.314 At Stikker's request, Bevin agreed to see Chifley.315 There was a chance, he told the Australian Prime Minister, if the Commonwealth bent all its efforts. 'With the current developments in China and Burma it was imperative not only to get a political settlement, but to co-ordinate our efforts at economic reconstruction . . ,'316 In fact Shepherd had a positive talk with Critchley the same day. The consul-general urged 'the importance of DutchIndonesian friendship and co-operation for many years to come so as to stabilise the political situation in the archipelago and strengthen it as part of the defences of South East Asia against communist influence. Critchley agreed and added that he did not think that Australian policy was having the effect of setting the Indonesians against the Dutch.'317 Shepherd had been ill. 'There has been a constant flow of callers at his bedside and he seems to have lost no opportunity of impressing our views upon them all.'318 After seeing Nehru, Bevin also spoke to Stikker again: what was immediately at issue was the question of assurances from the republicans on their return to Yogya; but there should also be 'a generous line' in the late discussions over transfer.319 The British government, said Bevin, had done its utmost to counsel moderation in Commonwealth countries, 'and also to bring about a more understanding approach by the Americans and, locally, a more moderate attitude on the part of the Indonesian leaders. These efforts had not been unsuccessful and the chances of a settlement now seemed more favourable than they had been for some time.'320 Two days later the Roem-Van Roijen agreement was initialled, in which, somewhat ironically, the Dutch accepted personal assurances from Sukarno and Hatta over a post-restoration cease-fire.321 'It seems that the Dutch have at last adopted a policy of real moderation', wrote Christofas.322 Bajpai was pleased, and Menon too.

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'Sir Girja also said that he hoped the French would be equally sensible about Indo-China but he did not seem very optimistic about this.'323 An Australia-India resolution recommended postponing a discussion they had sought in the General Assembly:324 'very satisfactory', Christofas commented.325 Beel resigned: 'proof of how good the Batavia agreement is', wrote Lloyd.326 At Scott's suggestion, made perhaps because the Australian attitude to the agreement was 'so pessimistic',327 Bevin expressed appreciation of the part Evatt and Critchley had played 'in bringing about this satisfactory development at a time when the menacing situation elsewhere in Asia makes settlement in Indonesia so urgent and so important'.328 At Shepherd's suggestion, the Foreign Office also decided to welcome the agreement in parliament.329 United States diplomacy, brilliantly carried out by Cochran, was substantially responsible for bringing the two sides together. Britain's role, as Dening put it, had been played dans Us coulisses, 'to a very large extent. . . ever since we ceased to have a direct part to play'.330 As the RTC approached, the British still planned such a role. Nichols asked Scott for advice. Did Britain want the Dutch to retain bases? Was Britain's policy based on one general and one particular principle? - 'viz, that everything should be done to combat the advance of Communism in South East Asia; and secondly that everything should be done to safeguard British economic interests in Indonesia itself, including investments of £70 million. Both these suggested the need for 'a moderate and stable government'. That could be based only on 'nationalistic aspirations', but it should command 'general authority' and be able to govern efficiently. Some key positions should remain in Dutch hands: but the Dutch could achieve that only 'by giving all they can to the Indonesians' and hoping that in return the Indonesians will ask for assistance.331 The main role, Scott commented, would be that of 'a back-stage hand with an oilcan, preventing heat and friction and keeping the wheels turning, on the old theatre principle that the show must go on'. Bases and efficient civil servants might be desirable, he went on. But it would be better for the Dutch not to write in too many safeguards. What was needed was mutual trust. Without it, written safeguards were useless, indeed self-defeating: they would lay the Indonesian signatories open to attack and make their obligations difficult to fulfil. 'Then history will repeat itself - to keep their influence with their own parties the Republicans will commit breaches of the agreement, the Dutch will complain that the agreement has not been honoured, and the situation will once again get out of hand.' Trying to safeguard the future, the Dutch must not forget the present: the converse applied to the Indonesians. Scott thought the Dutch might seek analogies, not in India, Pakistan and Burma, but in Indo-China and the Philippines. The French had

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accepted 'formidable military risks, but in an attempt to safeguard their own interests . . . they have been so slow in accepting political risks, and so anxious to secure a special position for themselves, that they have bogged themselves down in an interminable and costly military campaign with poor prospects of political success'. In the Philippines, the US granted 'independence' to an enthusiastic reception, while securing bases and a privileged economic position.332 Dening told Nichols that the Indonesians, without background or experience, were likely to be 'ultra-suspicious', and to find it even more difficult than usual to make up their minds. There was a danger that the conference would 'drag on and lose both heart and temper', while their position back in Indonesia would erode. The UN, moreover, would be meeting in September. The Dutch would be unwise to press for 'a clearcut defence agreement' if the Indonesians seemed unwilling. Dening hoped that the Indonesians would use Dutch officials. 'I was not entirely joking', he wrote, 'when I mentioned Burma to Stikker . . . Were the Indonesians to dispense with all Dutchmen, I think there is a very real danger that, with their administrative inexperience, their tendency towards factionalism and the geographical lay-out of the United States, they would drift into a state comparable to that of Burma.' Ideally the Indonesians would seek to employ Dutch officials, as India and Pakistan employed British ones. 'General Gracey is Commander-in-Chief of the Pakistan Army, and having met him recently I can assure you he is a passionate Pakistani!' But 'prestige and amourpropre would not make this an easy prospect.333 Burma was becoming an example not to follow: but the British could still quote India and Pakistan. With the help of the Indian ambassador at The Hague, Mehta, Berkeley Gage established personal relations with the Indonesian delegates,334 particularly Darmasetiawan, acting as Hatta's assistant.335 The main aim was to inspire the republicans with confidence in the Dutch delegation.336 Among the issues was West New Guinea. Its transfer to Indonesia would be 'a source of some embarrassment to Australia, but. . . the situation would be no worse than in Borneo'.337 Persuading the Indonesians to let the Dutch keep it would be a new role for Critchley, 'and a far from easy one'.338 Another issue was the proposed Netherlands-Indonesia Union. The elaborate Dutch proposal, Critchley thought, only spoiled the prospects for success.339 His line was 'that the future protection of Dutch interests in Indonesia depends on generous gestures at the conference and not on legalistic haggling'. But Cochran, as Gage reported, recognised 'that you have to accept the fact that you cannot turn a carthorse into a ballet dancer and must deal with the Dutch character as it is'.340

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Darmasetiawan visited London. 'Amongst other things he is interested in how to combat communism in South East Asia, especially in how to prevent infiltration of communist Chinese into West Java. He has also expressed a desire to discuss common defence problems with Malaya and interest in having Indonesian officers trained there . . .'341 Scott told him that we were anxious to see a strong, stable and prosperous Indonesia and also a strong, stable and prosperous Holland and that we thought that both objectives could be obtained; that we had no ready-made formula to suggest as a solution to any difficulties that might be encountered at The Hague but that we would accept whatever was freely and voluntarily accepted by the parties directly concerned; that we were looking forward with confidence to the future of Indonesia with whom we shall be on most friendly terms.342 In The Hague, Sir Philip told the Dutch 'that we have found that the less on paper the more easily does the Commonwealth work'. But the Dutch liked to have it all in writing, and most of their negotiations were unrealistic. As Darmasetiawan put it, they entered into them in the spirit of a retailer and not of a wholesaler.343 The matter would return to the UN General Assembly late in October, H. B. C. Keeble noted: the Dutch would need to show satisfactory progress by then, yet 'always seemed completely to misjudge the violence of the foreign opposition which they are capable of arousing'. 344 Bajpai was anxious lest, during the delay, extremists took hold in Indonesia. 345 'All that is possible is the occasional advice which is already being extended informally by Sir P. Nichols.'346 Bajpai's fears seemed to be borne out in mid-October. Incidents, particularly in East Java, put the cease-fire under pressure, and the Sultan of Yogya urged Dutch forces to withdraw into the cities.347 The republic's army had absorbed extremist groups and these, with independent groups and Darul Islam elements, were challenging the moderates. 348 'Nonetheless', the acting British consul-general reported, it seems to me that the solution still rests not in Indonesia but at the Hague, and the longer the delay in reaching agreement the greater will be the strength of the opposition, while there is still a chance that if a quick and favourable agreement can be reached which will enable the delegates to return in some sort of triumph, many waverers will jump on the band wagon and the chance of the moderate elements being able to establish their position will be greatly increased . . .349 In London Michiels called on Dening, 'to intimate the concern of his Government at the position which is developing in Indonesia as a result of continuing infiltration by Republican forces'. Dening hoped that it

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would be left to the Indonesians 'to put themselves clearly in the wrong in world opinion. It would be nothing short of a disaster if it could be alleged that the Dutch had once again started fighting'. Bevin had seen the US ambassador and Dening telephoned Nichols, with the suggestion that the UNCI should do what it could to check the situation.350 Nichols found Stikker 'showing signs of strain', but Cochran felt that Lovink acted on reports that were 'almost certainly exaggerated', and that it was for the UNCI to appraise the situation. The British ambassador discussed with his US and Indian colleagues some possible steps: pressure on both sides, 'but primarily the Indonesians', to stick to the cease-fire; interviewing Hatta with the same purpose; and urging the Dutch government to make an announcement, in effect of the date of transfer. British policy had rightly been one of 'friendly advice with no formal intervention'. More was now needed.351 'Keep me informed', Bevin instructed. 'Can we encourage the United Nations to send for a report in face of these statements?'352 Franks was advised that Britain was inclined to agree that it was for the UNCI to assess the situation. Could it be asked to report to the Security Council on events since the start of the RTC? 'I am reluctant to depart from our present policy of friendly advice to both sides with no formal intervention until there is some evidence from U.N.C.I. sources on which to base any representations to either side.' The Dutch, it was reported, had informally approached Hatta about fixing a date for transfer, 'the crux of the matter for the Indonesians'; but they seemed to want a prior assurance that the Indonesians would prevent the situation in Java from deteriorating. That seemed to be 'a vicious circle', and the only way out would be for the Dutch 'to give the lead, take their courage in their hands and announce a date, as we did in the case of India, Burma and Ceylon'.353 The US thought that matters had improved, both at The Hague and in Java, and that a reference to the Security Council might 'provoke recriminations and disruptive discussions'.354 The Foreign Office dropped the idea.355 Stewart confirmed that the tension had relaxed. 'I interpret my . . . position to be . . . without making any official approach to either side, to continue to counsel restraint wherever and whenever opportunity occurs.'356 In The Hague the RTC, leaving New Guinea aside from the transfer of sovereignty, reached its final plenary session on 2 November. Scott recommended a congratulatory message. Nichols thought it inappropriate to send separate ones to the Dutch and the Indonesians, since the former did not feel it was the occasion for congratulation. One would go to Drees as chairman.357 The message praised 'the process of free and full discussion' that had led to the agreement, itself a vindication of democratic principles, and a stage in the development of East-

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West relations on the basis of friendship, equality, and full cooperation, a phrase added by Bevin himself. The draft had also expressed the hope that it would lead to a long period of peace in Indonesia.358 'Peace' was changed to 'stability', lest the Dutch took it as a criticism of the police actions, and a hint 'that we hoped there would be no more of them'.359 At the UN the Soviet representative denounced the agreement as 'a gross deception', a renewal of 'colonial enslavement'. The Burmese delegate said such a comment only showed 'that one needs to be saved from one's so-called friends as much as from one's sworn enemies'.360 The chief feeling in The Hague was one of relief, Nichols wrote. Rehabilitation in international opinion did not mean much to the average Dutchman. 'He never understood, though he bitterly resented, the attitude of world, especially American and Australian, opinion towards the Indonesian problem and the part played by his Government; and he does not appreciate the change in that opinion now.' The Dutch believed that international disapproval 'cloaked sinister designs on the part of other countries to take advantage of the situation in Indonesia to their own benefit'. They still believed that. The Dutch government would try to make the new regime a success, though without enthusiasm from the population at large.361 The RTC agreement was regarded at the Foreign Office as 'a fairly complete victory for the Indonesians'. The union was not a super-state, but 'rather an alliance between two states on equal terms'. The independence of Indonesia was affirmed, one example being its full right of foreign representation, contrasting with the 'narrowly limited' right of Vietnam. Economically the Dutch, though without the special position of the past, should be able to use their experience and their old links to maintain a profitable connexion, which others would find it difficult to emulate. Even agreements of so detailed a nature were vain unless there were 'a spirit of willing co-operation', as the case of Burma showed. Indeed the detail might prove a disadvantage. It will 'provide opportunity for complaints of evasion and . . . for the exercise of legalistic interpretation such as the lawyers of the East delight in'.362 The Beel plan, Nichols suggested, had been thought of too late to influence the Security Council debate in January: it committed the Dutch to an accelerated transfer of sovereignty, but won no compensating concession. The Security Council insisted on the return of the republican government to Yogya. Drees and Stikker had nothing more to offer, and the Catholics could point out that the Netherlands 'could scarcely have fared worse if their own line had been followed, of defying the Security Council on all points, and going their own way'. They accepted the talks at Batavia, virtually conceding the authority of the

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UNCI. Highly distasteful as it was, they put their faith in it, and their confidence in Cochran indeed grew. Why, Nichols asked, did the Dutch change their policy so completely? The most important factor, he believed, was world opinion, expressed at the UN, at New Delhi, and in many other countries, though often based more on an emotional attachment to nationalism than on a real knowledge of the situation. Another factor was internal, 'the virtual impossibility of replacing the Dutch Government if it had resigned on the Indonesian issue': the Catholics could not, therefore, force the issue. And a third factor was the situation in Indonesia. In instituting the second police action, the Dutch had put their money on the federalists. 'They hoped to eliminate the Republican extremists and then to form a Federal Government in which the moderate Republicans would play a supporting but subordinate part.' But the republicans gained the limelight in world opinion, and the Security Council proceedings raised their stock. The federalists were increasingly inclined to join the republicans. Moreover, the military operations came to a standstill and the Dutch found it impossible to deal with guerrilla warfare. The role of His Majesty's government had been 'well understood' in the Netherlands. Suspicion of the US and Australia was, however, 'widespread'.363 The Dutch repeatedly commented, as Nichols remarked, that the resolution of 28 January 'virtually transferred Dutch sovereignty and responsibility in Indonesia to the State Department'. The role of the British was much less, as it had been, indeed, ever since the first police action. That had not, however, brought their diplomacy to a halt and, at times of crisis, they had been tempted to go beyond their self-imposed limit of advice and counsel. Throughout this phase, as throughout the whole post-war period, their aim had been to bring the Dutch and the Indonesian nationalists together. That would at once avoid extremism and keep a European footing in Indonesia and reconcile the interests of Britain in Europe and Asia. The onset of the Cold War, and the relative failure of British attempts, led to a greater US involvement. In the case of Indonesia, US policies were largely consonant with those of the British. The latter were, however, anxious that the Europeans should retain part of the Western role in Southeast Asia. They also looked to the Commonwealth, in particular to India. That, too, had an interest in the nationalist cause. Involving it might moderate it. It might also diminish the risks of an American monopoly, and prove a relatively attractive vehicle for a moderate Western policy in Asia. 'I think we can fairly claim to have had a consistent policy towards Indonesia ever since the war', Scott wrote, 'based on the three principles of (a) preventing Indonesian issues splitting the anti-communist front in the Security Council, (b) impressing on the Indonesians the need for a

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sense of responsibility, and (c) urging the Dutch to face the realities of the post-war world.'364 Both the US and the UK made their policies in Indonesia in the light of their wider interests in Europe and Asia, and they were shaped by their perceptions of the Soviet Union and by the apprehensions of Chinese communism. But if that influenced their grand strategy, their regional strategy took account of their experiences within the region. In particular the chaos in Burma and the Emergency in Malaya created a fear that the region as a whole was open to communist penetration, rather than becoming a zone of peace and stability. Burma was an opportunity for Commonwealth collaboration, but it was now also an example, not to be emulated but to be avoided, by contrast to India and Pakistan themselves. The Dutch, though they had been set on the course of compromise back in 1946 by news of the Ho Chi Minh-Sainteny accord, had gone well beyond what the French were even now prepared to offer the Bao Dai regime. The formal transfer of sovereignty took place on 27 December 1949 in The Hague, Jakarta, and Yogyakarta. Those who took part were Hatta, Sukarno, and the Sultan of Yogyakarta. The State Department, in the eyes of Sjahrir, was oriented towards 'feudal circles'.365 Perhaps that was not entirely fair: Sjahrir's role had been destroyed by antagonism between the Dutch and the republic. It was, however, true that the threat of communism had identified the US more closely with those who had put down the Madiun uprising. The US and the UK had accepted Pibun and were to endorse Bao Dai. The recognition of the Bao Dai regime in Vietnam French reactions to the Dutch police action of December 1948 varied. Paul Coste-Floret believed it 'very foolish'.366 In Indo-China the French press ranged from 'frank congratulation to a regretful recognition that there was no other way out'. The Viet Minh radio compared Dutch and French bad faith. The Vietnam press pointed out that Dutch action would bring no solution, but would 'strengthen the hand of the Communists and discredit the Western powers'. Gibbs did not think, however, that the negotiations between the French and Bao Dai would be affected. 'The Annamite has a narrow view and is usually too much taken up with his own petty jealousies to allow external events seriously to affect his actions.'367 The police action was designed to suppress extremism and secure the cooperation of moderates: a vain enterprise in the post-war nationalist era. In Indo-China the same colonialist thinking had encouraged a resort to force; but, thanks in substantial part to the repressive policies of

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the interwar period, no moderates were clearly in view. Initially the best prospect seemed to lie in the old colony of Cochin-China, and the military action in the north was intended to limit infiltration. It failed, and the French policy shifted towards a revived imperial regime. But, aside from unavoidable limits on their military capacity - by February 1949 it was estimated that they had lost 50-60,000 killed or wounded, double that if North African and colonial troops were included: 'really rather staggering!'368 - the French there were hampered by self-imposed limits on their political capacity. If Bao Dai was to succeed, his regime must be given a level of independence sufficient to make it appealing to Vietnamese nationalism. The government in France was unwilling to offer that. Indeed, as throughout the period, it was politically so weak that it was unable to follow any forward-looking policy. The 1948 agreement had not been ratified. Nor had the government been able to offer the Bao Dai regime the unification of the three ky. Changing CochinChina's colonial status would need the approval of the Assembly, which the government was not sure that it could gain. Bao Dai remained unwilling to return to Vietnam to set up the new regime. The French tended to blame that on his love of a peaceful existence, of the fleshpots of Paris and Cannes.369 In fact his policy was quite rational: it was the French who could not make up their minds. 'They deserve to lose the show', Bevin commented.370 The provisional government lacked authority; the French were 'hindered by internal domestic problems . . . from taking any decisive steps'; there was a 'military stalemate'; and, with the Ho Chi Minh government controlling most of the rural areas, 'comparatively little rice' was being exported. So Bevin was briefed for a talk with Schuman. 'We cannot afford to give the French the impression that we endorse their general policy in IndoChina, but we have no solution to suggest.' Bevin should perhaps simply indicate that 'stability and prosperity in Indo-China' were 'important to the well being of the whole area'.371 Schuman told Bevin that 'the situation in Indo-China was in no way comparable to the situation in Indonesia, where there had been a government, though it probably lacked sufficient authority. In Indo-China the problem was to find or form a government with whom to deal.'372 Pignon reached agreement with Bao Dai in talks in Cannes, 16-17 January 1949, the Foreign Office learned, though Cochin-China remained a difficulty.373 'It seems (though we cannot at this stage be certain) that the French have at last made up their minds to give way on the main points of difference', Mackworth Young commented.374 In February an agreement was reported. It was indeed important, Blackham wrote, for the French to come to terms with 'the moderate national elements in Vietnam', for 'the steady deterioration in Indo-

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China, in connexion with the expected penetration of South China by communist forces represents a grave potential menace to S.E. Asia'. But 'French intransigence' had alienated Annamite public opinion, and the Viet Minh had been able 'to establish a large measure of control which it may prove impossible to break short of full scale military measures'. If so, 'it might be advisable to consider whether we should offer the French the maximum military support in our power to bring the campaign in Indo-China to an early conclusion'. Neither Britain nor the US could give 'open support to the French in such military operations'. It was 'unlikely', too, that the US would agree. 'It would only be possible to put such a proposal to them in the context of a general attempt to combat the communist penetration of S.E. Asia; and there is so far no sign that they are prepared to do anything about this.' Against the passage in Blackham's memorandum hinting at British military support, Dening wrote: 'No'.375 Coste-Floret outlined the agreement, which was annexed to an exchange of letters of 8 March between Bao Dai and President Auriol,376 on 9 March. Vietnam, independent within the union, would be able to accredit diplomatic representatives to certain states and to receive diplomatic representatives who would also be accredited to the French Union. France would not oppose the unity of the three ky. A Vietnam army would be created, but France would obtain bases, and the Union army would have free movement. Priority in sourcing advisers and technicians would go to nationals of the French Union. Vietnam would control its own finances, except those reserved for financing joint Franco-Vietnam institutions. Further discussions were to be held on many issues.377 The Assembly agreed that Cochin-China should cease to be a French colony.378 Perhaps seeking to avoid being outflanked by the Communists, the Socialists had in January again expressed a wish for negotiations with Ho Chi Minh.379 Anxious to keep the 'Third Force' together, the Premier, Henri Queuille, managed to avoid a general resolution which the Socialists would have found it 'very difficult' to support.380 In London, however, the agreement seemed to amount to 'token rather than real independence': it was unlikely 'to entice away from Ho Chi Minh those nationalist elements . . . who are opposed to a Marxist programme for Viet Nam and yet who wish to see a genuinely independent state'. The approach of the Chinese communists made it 'all the more regrettable' that the French did not make 'a more liberal agreement'. One reason for their approach was the fear that Tunis and Morocco might use a precedent. 'The French probably consider that, although they have not gone far enough, to go any further would be impolitic - thus placing themselves in a dilemma from which it is hard to

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escape.' Neither India nor Australia would see this agreement as offering true independence. 'As regards Malaya, any accession of strength to Ho Chi Minh by virtue of Chinese communist successes in China will have an adverse effect on the political stability of Siam, which in turn will have its effect on our efforts to check the communist insurrection in Malaya.' The French would not 'take kindly to any pressure or suggestion from us to make a more liberal offer of independence'. So the British could only hope that, if the agreement failed, they would see for themselves 'the urgent necessity for the future of the whole of South East Asia' of going beyond token independence. Talks with Baeyens - returning Dening's December visit - were designed to convey 'a sense of urgency'.381 'But in all fairness', Christofas added, 'this is about the first really constructive proposal that the French have put forward . . . in the last three years and we should at least hope it will succeed.'382 From Saigon, too, Gibbs sent what Christofas called 'gloomy reading', and Dening 'depressing, but probably correct'.383 The French, the consul-general said, had been 'surprisingly submissive'. Some recognised that there was no alternative policy, some saw it as 'comic opera', some thought it wrong. 'The underlying feeling is, if the agreement is to be valid, then Bao Dai must keep his part of the bargain, i.e. stop the war; if he cannot do this, then the agreement will be null and void and the whole question reconsidered, perhaps by a different French Government' The Vietnamese press was 'even more cautious'. Publicity had not been well managed: Coste-Floret's speeches, meant for Paris and 'stressing what France is keeping instead of emphasising what she is giving away', were splashed in the Saigon press. 'The general Vietnamese reaction is similar to that of the French; that they must wait and see how the latter keep their side of the bargain before results can be expected.' Confidence was still lacking. Most 'dismal' of all, no one thought Bao Dai could succeed. 'Everyone is agreed that this is France's last card, but many suspect she is only playing it in the hope of getting American aid, and she has had it up her sleeve for so long that when it appears on the table it is likely to be rather limp.'384 Pignon argued that the Chinese communist threat was as yet more psychological than military: it might induce the population, anxious for law and order, to come down on the side of Viet Minh and Chinese communism instead of the free and united anti-communist Vietnam 'the French hoped very shortly to create'.385 Chinese bands had, however, crossed the border, and were linking up with Viet Minh regulars.386 If this were kept up, the French would be 'forced to choose between slow attrition of their forces or a reduction of their commitments by partial withdrawal'.387 'This looks like the first real turn of the screw on the French by Mao Tse Tung in collaboration with Ho Chi Minh', Lloyd

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wrote. Bao Dai was 'probably not looking forward to being projected back into the Indo-China scene at this particular moment. . .'388 The French, Christofas thought, were 'very much on the brink of a military volcano in Tonkin even if it has not yet erupted into full violence'.389 Why are the French optimistic? Guy Burgess asked.390 Pignon thought that the chances of Bao Dai and the French in Indo-China depended largely on their having 6-12 months 'before the Chinese Communists became too powerful along the border'.391 There was urgency in French policy, such as the Foreign Office sought, but not, it felt, sufficient generosity. In Paris Clarke was more positive. At least the policy now enjoyed 'a greater measure of support amongst all parties outside the Communists than has been possible since Ho Chi-minh broke the armistice of March 1946'. But he pointed out that, even if there were widespread support for Bao Dai, positive measures would be needed to restore 'orderly conditions'. Shortage of war material, financial problems, and the reduction of military service to twelve months, made that 'impossible'. And building a Vietnamese army would take time.392 The imminent return of Bao Dai to Indo-China led Gibbs to raise the question of the recognition of Vietnam. 'Now that the point has been conceded in the exchange of letters of 8th March the French are naturally anxious to give Bao Dai the outward trappings as soon as possible.' Presumably, Gibbs added, Britain should 'concert with the Americans', and 'wait and see what sort of success Bao Dai has in forming a representative government'.393 Blackham favoured a 'wait and see' policy: 'until he has succeeded in forming a representative government which exercises real authority throughout the country, the "autonomy" of Viet Nam will remain rather a sham, and the French concessions will remain illusory in the eyes of the Annamites, until Viet-Minh are shown to be in retreat. . .' 'It would be futile if we were to recognise him prematurely and he should turn out to be a flop (as many expect he will)', Lloyd commented. If he did not, Britain should consult the Americans about recognition.394 William S. Lacy of the State Department mentioned the issue to Scott during a visit to London. 'I said I thought that if the new government seemed to have reasonable chances of being a success and a permanency we would wish to do what we could to help and that recognition would probably be one of the steps we should take. He said he agreed.'395 En route in Singapore, Bao Dai seemed to Scrivener 'glum and uncommunicative. Perhaps he was nervous - as well he may be . . .'396 His reception in Hanoi provoked in Vietnamese circles what the American consul called 'First display even slight optimism'.397 When the changed status of Cochin-China had been approved and Bao Dai had formed his government, a Vietnamese goodwill mission would visit Southeast Asian countries, the acting consul-general, Donald

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Hopson, reported: it was more important to enlist their support than for the US and the UK to rush into recognition, 'thus giving the impression that the new Vietnam was nothing more than the stooge of the Atlantic powers'.398 Over-hasty recognition would give the impression that Bao Dai was 'a western puppet'. The US, Hopson added, was also concerned as to the legal position: was Vietnam legally independent before the agreement had been formally ratified by the French Assembly? He thought that ratification could not take place until the supplementary conventions were drawn up, but that Vietnam would begin its existence as an independent associate state within the French Union once the status of Cochin-China had been legally changed. The Vietnamese did, however, attach importance to ratification, 'as they fear that until this has been done there is always a chance of a new French government going back on the agreement'. But that should not necessarily affect recognition.399 The arguments for waiting until some other Southeast Asian countries had blessed the regime were strong, Blackham recognised: it would 'dispose of local criticism that we were simply conniving at a French manoeuvre to retain their hold on the country under cover of a sham independence. As this appears to be more or less what the French are doing, it is doubly important to guard against this danger'. Nehru, however, had consistently insisted that France must grant real independence and to that end come to terms with Ho Chi Minh. 'The Siamese might take a more favourable line, in view of their preoccupation with the Communist menace from the north, but the Philippines are . . . the best bet, if the U.S. Govt. felt inclined to suggest that the recognition of Bao Dai would serve a useful purpose in contributing to the peace and stability of S.E.A.' Was Hopson right about the legal position? Was an associate state a state? a colleague in the Western Department asked.400 Sir Eric Beckett, the Foreign Office's legal adviser, thought that recognition, if offered, would be recognition of Vietnam 'as a state member of the French Union': it could not mean that Britain recognised Vietnam as 'a fully independent state because it is quite clear that it would not be'.401 D. F. Townsend, the naval attache at Bangkok, found on a visit to IndoChina late in May some 'real grounds for hope': the threat from the north 'rebounds against the VIET MINH since the Chinese are most unpopular'. Political stability required an improvement in the military situation, however, and reinforcements were said to be on their way to Tonkin, the main war zone. 'Outstanding features of the war in FRENCH INDO-CHINA are very large losses which the French have sustained, and the quite remarkable silence about these losses in the world press.'402 The French, as Blackham put it, had not encouraged an interest in their activities in Indo-China 'as long as they thought that there was a

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possibility of imposing military solution', but if the Bao Dai experiment failed and the Viet Minh grip was 'irreducible', they would turn to the US and the UK 'in an attempt to enlist support in checking the spread of Communism further'.403 Burgess felt 'the utmost pessimism both about the actual nature of French policy and the chances of it being successfully carried out. One's impression is that the conspiracy of silence about all this originates in Paris for internal reasons.'404 A. R. Walmsley of the Western Department agreed: 'French silence is probably largely due to fear of a break in the Govt. coalition if the Govt. policy is seen to be failing.'405 Blackham thought that the French might 'encounter sympathetic interest on the Americans' part'. Indeed there had been a shift in the American view. The State Department doubted that the French were giving the regime 'the political advantages upon which its appeal to the Vietnamese must be based', and indicating that support or assistance from a third party must depend on that.406 But the ambassador, Bruce, opposed delivering this message, and so did the Secretary of State himself: it would only discourage French ministers and officials emerging 'battered and bruised by the long struggle against prejudice, self-interest and political opportunism . . . with a partial triumph'.407 The State Department decided to issue a statement welcoming the new state, and hoped that Britain would, too.408 In London the American minister, Julius Holmes, called at the Foreign Office. Roger Makins told him that the British were not proposing to make a statement. 'We felt that the outlook for the new regime was not very promising particularly as the French Government had so tightly circumscribed the Emperor's authority. We were therefore waiting to see how things went.' The French should be consulted first in any case. Canvassing the support of neighbouring countries should be considered, Makins agreed, but India might give an unfavourable reply.409 Holmes later rang to say Acheson had talked to Schuman about the statement, and it would therefore be issued on 17 June. The press, said Makins, would ask what Britain's views were, and he was telling the News Department to indicate, if the statement were 'suitable', that the UK was in agreement.410 The statement welcomed the formation of 'the new unified state of Viet Nam': the US expressed the hope that the 8 March agreements would 'form the basis for the progressive realization of the legitimate aspirations of the Vietnamese people'; while Bao Dai was said to be 'making sincere efforts to unite all truly nationalist elements within Viet Nam'.411 It was made on 21 June. Pignon's diplomatic adviser thought it rather thin. Hopson agreed: 'as no official announcement can at the moment be anything but luke warm I suggest it might be preferable to make none at all', or at least to await reaction to the US one.412

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The Foreign Office was not in fact proposing to make a statement, merely to respond if asked.413 Its comment, however, elicited the thanks of Prince Buu Loc, Bao Dai's chef du cabinet, and his acknowledgment of Britain's 'bold and generous policy' in Southeast Asia.414 Sir G. Bajpai had told the US ambassador in New Delhi that Nehru would not criticise the American statement, but, if questioned, he might have to state that his government held a different view. Henderson wondered whether another Asian government, such as Thailand, might represent to the Indians 'the importance of giving Bao Dai's regime every chance to establish itself'.415 Neither Frank Roberts, the deputy high commissioner, nor the Foreign Office thought this would be of use: the best that could be hoped for was that Nehru would not publicly differ.416 The British themselves clearly had doubts, even apart from their concern for Indian opinion. The old Indo-China federation had gone, as Hopson noted, but the French Union was 'a much tighter organisation than the Commonwealth'.417 The degree of independence France planned to give Vietnam, Palliser wrote, was 'not enough to convince either Indo-Chinese nationalists or their supporters elsewhere - i.e. India - that the French are sincere in their offers of self-rule for IndoChina'. They were, like the Dutch in Indonesia, 'giving too little too slowly. But whereas the Dutch may be able, now that they have decided to confer unconditional sovereignty on the Indonesians, to keep a limited stake in Indonesia, the French have no further chances'. Unless they were 'more forthcoming' to Bao Dai, they would 'lose Indo-China to Communism - with all that implies for the rest of S.E.A.'.418 On 1 July Bao Dai at last announced the formation of his new government. Hopson offered 'modest grounds for hope': a 'central personality' might bring 'an element of cohesion to the varied if meagre forces which support his cause', and the agreements and US and UK approval had allowed French policy in Indo-China 'a certain degree of international respectability'. If sovereignty were made over and the military effort increased, the resistance movement might be 'slowly reduced to its Communist core and thus assume the more modest proportions of the insurrection in Malaya. The great imponderable is the effect of future events in China.' The Chinese occupation of 1945 left unhappy memories, but the Tonkinese hatred of the French was 'even stronger'. A counterbalance to Chinese communist successes would be support from other Asiatic countries, particularly India. Hopson also noted some 'disquieting' features. Could France increase its military effort? Would Paris allow Pignon to interpret the agreement liberally? Bao Dai might be 'playing with fire'. It was widely held that he did not 'want the civil war to stop' until the agreement had been enforced in its entirety: it represented 'his sole means of pressure on the French'.419 Blackham thought this 'a

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little silly': Bao Dai could no more stop the war than Canute the waves. The prospect before him was 'bleak' and there was little indication that the French would do much to help him, politically or militarily.420 Lord Hood reported from Paris that the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs planned simply to notify other governments of the formation of the government, indicating that it was in a position to enter into diplomatic relations with other states: their note would not directly ask for recognition. The ministry was more anxious for recognition by Asian states than western: it would have more 'prestige value'. There was also some advantage in waiting until the government 'really got under way': played too soon, the trump card of recognition might be wasted.421 Butterworth had told Graves that by recognising the Bao Dai government, 'we should of course be aligning ourselves in the struggle against the Communists', and requests for military and economic aid would follow. He wanted Britain's views.422 Recognition could be accorded to Vietnam as a state of the French Union, Scott acknowledged. But India still regarded Bao Dai as a French puppet, and if requests for aid followed recognition, even if preceded by recognition from Asian countries, 'we might have to face accusations from India and elsewhere that under the thin disguise of resisting communism, we were supporting a French Colonial war'. Britain was anxious, from the Commonwealth point of view, that India, Pakistan and Ceylon should recognise Bao Dai before or at the same time as it did, and it wanted to carry other interested Commonwealth countries with it too.423 Yet the Indians saw in Ho Chi Minh 'only the representative of the enslaved people fighting against the imperialist French', as Blackham put it, 'and will feel unable to accord any recognition to Bao Dai until he has shown complete independence of the French, which there is little prospect of his being able to do'.424 Menon, now Foreign Secretary in New Delhi, did, however, agree 'that it was most important that Indo-China should not fall under Communist domination'.425 On a visit to Paris, Pignon told Clarke that the regime would send special missions to India, Siam and the Philippines and that after visiting Saigon, Keskar, Menon's deputy, had 'expressed himself sympathetically' in Bangkok, though less so back in India.426 Clarke also reported on the State Department's 'hesitation'. The European Division endorsed the embassy's view that the US should support the Bao Dai experiment. 'The Far Eastern Division, however, who are particularly sensitive to the public criticism of their China policy are much more cautious about embarking on this line': if it failed, the State Department would be 'exposed to renewed attacks'.427 The ambassador, Bruce, favoured giving help, but at present 'the possibilities were limited. His own feeling was that the crucial question was the attitude of the Indian Government.'428

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The Quai d'Orsay now explained to Lord Hood that 'instruments' exchanged in June were the letters of 8 March and not instruments of ratification. Ratification had still to take place. It needed the approval of representative institutions in Vietnam, yet to be set up. It also needed the approval of the French Assembly: the government was 'unlikely to wish for a further debate on Indo-China at present', and would probably try to postpone it as long as possible. In any case, it would require the conclusion of the supplementary agreements the exchange of letters envisaged. The French government considered even so that the transfer of sovereignty had taken place. The transfer of power had hardly begun. Indeed the Quai d'Orsay recognised that there was a 'vicious circle': Bao Dai would not elicit support until his government really took over; but for lack of support it was not in a position to take over.429 Recognition would be difficult, Blackham recognised: happily it was not yet an issue.430 Late in July the Socialist Party's congress resolved in favour of UN mediation, though Clarke thought that 'quite unacceptable to the large majority of French people', and Pignon told him that he did not think even the Socialists meant it seriously.431 On 8 August Auriol sent Bao Dai a message promising not to abandon the Vietnamese people, if need be with the help of UN defending their independence against outside attack.432 Blackham interpreted the statement as a 'hands-off China' one: UN intervention in the Vietnam dispute itself would not be in France's interests.433 But it was difficult to see where a practical line could be drawn. The communists were likely to assist by arms and infiltration, not attack. If that were on such a scale that the French could not stem the tide, they might feel that they had to gamble on UN intervention, 'despite the obvious drawbacks of ventilating the internal situation in an international forum'.434 In Paris Baeyens suggested the message was 'to some extent intended for internal consumption in France', in particular to meet the views of the Socialist Congress. That, of course, called for mediation, not defence against attack. But the message showed that 'in certain circumstances' the government would be willing to call in the UN.435 It was still in French domestic politics that an understanding of French policy in Indo-China was to be found, if not a clarification. Quirino indicated that the Philippines would recognise the regime when it had control and clearly represented the will of the people.436 Little enthusiasm could indeed be expected, Blackham thought.437 Pibun feebly echoed the State Department's statement: the Siamese consul in Saigon gave Hopson 'the impression that his country would be extremely nervous of coming out openly in support of B.D.'438 Stan ton apparently enjoined caution at Bangkok. Hopson preferred that some support should be given, preferably initially by other Asian countries:

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'while we clearly cannot bounce other Asiatic Governments into recognising Bao [Dai] while we ourselves hold back, we should at least do nothing to discourage them; if there are any signs in the near future that he is having some success establishing his regime we might even indulge in [a] little gentle prodding'.439 In Bangkok the Deputy Foreign Minister had told Thompson that the French ambassador planned to present a letter from Bao Dai seeking recognition. That would be a 'tricky problem': it would be awkward to enter relations with Bao Dai only to see him thrown out soon after. Thompson agreed.440 It was apparently this reaction that led the regime to approach the US and the UK and not merely the Asian governments. Sir Oliver Harvey still thought that it was better that Asian states should give the lead in recognition. Perhaps the UK and the US should use their influence accordingly; and certainly the ambassadors should not discourage any such initiative.441 The letter as finally sent had something of the formulaic quality of other documents in Franco-Vietnam relations at this time. It declared that, under the agreements of 8 March 1949, Vietnam was 'recognised as an independent State forming part of the French Union, with the status of an Associated State', and it asked that relations might be established 'according to international custom'.442 The letter thus asserted independence, but as an associated state, and sought recognition, perhaps more firmly than the Quai had indicated, but still not explicitly. The reactions of Southeast Asian countries were 'extremely cautious', Roger Dugardier of the French High Commission told the American consul-general in Saigon. There was a tendency to await the action of the US and the UK, while, in a 'vicious circle', they were awaiting action by the Asian countries.443 Yet in conversation with Butterworth and his colleagues in Washington, Dening suggested 'that the course of events in Asia made it even more desirable that the Asiatic powers give Bao Dai their blessing before the Western powers announced their approval'. He thought that the British government would wish to press the French to make further concessions, and impress upon the Asian powers 'the simple choice of alternatives'. Butterworth told Dening 'that a Communist-dominated Indo-China would expose Siam and Malaya to immediate Communist pressure', and he did not think the Siamese were 'a tower of strength', given their habit of 'playing off one great power against another'.444 The conversation, perhaps representing a shift on the State Department's part, certainly marked an attempt to diminish the caution of the British, to which Abbott referred. They moved a little, but not much. They were willing, if asked, to 'recognise Viet Nam as an associated state of the French Union and deal with it as such as soon as the French

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Government informed us that it had this status'; but that would not be recognition as an independent state, nor necessarily imply that it could qualify for membership of the UN. The British wished to do what they could to enable Bao Dai to succeed, by encouraging other Asiatic nations, especially India, to support him; encouraging the French to transfer further powers to him; and giving other indications of support, such as visits. British envoys in Asian states should, 'as opportunities offer stress our sympathy with Bao Dai and our hope that they will give as cordial a reply as possible to his note', but should, as far as possible, avoid the question of recognition. In Bangkok, Thompson might 'stress how much worse' Siam's position would be if a communist-controlled government were in power in Indo-China.445 The British had been seeking the views of interested Commonwealth countries. Now Bao Dai's letter raised the issue more directly. The high commissioner in Canberra had discussed recognition in anticipation at the official level, and there mere acknowledgment was contemplated; 'but as we have reason to know decisions of this nature are sometimes taken by Ministers without Departmental advice being sought', and that might lead to Australia's according recognition.446 Blackham thought it would suit Britain quite well 'if the Australians go ahead and recognize Bao Dai without consulting us'.447 When the note arrived, however, it seemed that no early decision would be taken,448 though 'we cannot ignore possibility of unpredictable snap decision at ministerial level'.449 Ceylon formed no definite view,450 and New Zealand was still considering late in October.451 Bao Dai wanted to send an information officer to India, and the British supported that.452 Aside from its value in persuading the Indians to shift their views, it would enable them to show sympathy to Bao Dai without committing themselves.453 The Indians accepted an unofficial information officer.454 In Bangkok, the Deputy Minister remained cautious: he added that there were 'tens of thousands' of Indo-Chinese refugees in the north east, who had shown no signs of rallying to Bao Dai. Sir Geoffrey denied that either he, or indeed Stanton, had discouraged the Thais from recognising the regime. 'This is nonsense.' Nor had they tried to 'bounce' them into taking action. It was simply a very difficult problem for 'this weak, and threatened country'.455 Prince Wongsa, the Permanent Under-Secretary, told C. M. Anderson, now in Bangkok, that the Thais did not intend to reply to Bao Dai's letter. The French had told them that other countries had done so, and tried to 'bounce' the Prime Minister into deciding without giving him time to consult officials. The prince argued that the French had 'cooked their goose' in Indo-China. They were in fact engaged in suppressing a nationalist movement, using 'the present "anti-communist" trend in the Western World to dub Ho

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Chi Minh and his supporters communists'. That remained to be proved: they certainly had the support of the vast majority, which showed 'theirs was the genuine nationalist movement'. The French should have compromised with Ho Chi Minh. They would lose Indo-China, and the Thais would have 'a strong Annamite neighbour . . . much more to be feared than a French colony'.456 H. B. C. Keeble thought these views 'understandable' but 'unfortunate'. The French must give all possible publicity to Ho Chi Minh's communist tendencies, and transfer all possible power to Bao Dai.457 The idea of a visit came from the Commissioner-General. He proposed a return courtesy visit to Pignon in Saigon. But he could also call on Bao Dai, who might 'exploit this in some small degree to enhance his prestige'.458 'If we are unable to accord formal recognition to Bao Dai's government', Keeble wrote, 'a visit of this nature would serve to indicate that we are nonetheless anxious that he shall succeed.'459 It was approved.460 The British government did not itself receive a letter from Bao Dai till the end of September.461 On 6 September the French ambassador had, however, transmitted a copy of the Auriol-Bao Dai correspondence of 8 March, saying that, as President of the French Union, Auriol wanted the documents laid before King George VI, and adding that they enabled Vietnam 'to take part in international life and especially to receive representatives of powers wishing to establish closer relations with Viet Nam'. The Foreign Office did not know how the French saw the present international status of Vietnam, 'nor do we know what they want us to do'. Britain's 'broad policy' was clear. 'We want to see the Bao Dai experiment succeed, because we see no other alternative to a communist dominated regime.' But 'before deciding on action', Britain wanted to know that it had 'a reasonable chance of success', and what action it could take to 'support and encourage' it. The first was a question of the regime's effective control and popular support. They were limited because of the 'military situation' and of Ho Chi Minh's activities, but also because the agreement did not give Bao Dai sufficient authority. That also limited the chances of recognition and affected the Indian attitude. The international status of Vietnam was indeed unclear. Had it become an associated state, though the agreement had not been ratified? Did its status differ from other associated states, which had no diplomatic relations? How would foreign representatives be accredited both to the President and to Bao Dai? 'What in fact do the French want us to do?' What did they mean by recognition?462 Le Roy thought the Quai would find these questions difficult.463 Acheson and Bevin discussed Indo-China in Washington on 13 September. 'Ratification', Dening had told the Foreign Secretary, 'would

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greatly strengthen the argument for recognition.'464 Bevin wished that the French had gone further. 'He said it was possible the French wanted the United States and Great Britain to recognise the Bao Dai government so that they could present a fait accompli to the Assembly and the Assembly would have to ratify the new agreements. But he didn't like this possibility.' France should ratify the agreements and 'shift its dealings with Bao Dai from the Colonial Office to the Foreign Office'. Could Burma and India then take the lead in recognition? Acheson asked. Bevin thought that, 'if the French ratify, we could get the Asiatics to recognize the de facto government'. At a Bevin-Acheson-Schuman meeting on 17 September, Schuman suggested that the threat from China might drive some of Ho's men over to Bao Dai: there was 'no love lost between the Chinese and the Indochinese'. 'Bevin remarked that France has to ratify the agreement before anyone else can help.' After that, and the transfer to Foreign Affairs, said Acheson, 'we could help with the Philippines and Siam'.465 'I said we should have to move rather carefully, but that I would do what I could after ratification', Bevin told his own Foreign Office.466 No reply was sent to Bao Dai meanwhile.467 The Foreign Office did not accept MacDonald's view that the French government should be 'regarded as having put themselves right with Asian nationalist opinion, and that dominating factor in our policy should henceforth be the strengthening, by all available means of Anti-Communist forces in IndoChina which are an important component in anti-Communist front in South East Asia'.468 Such an appraisal was 'premature', given the 'views of India and Siam'. Moreover, 'if we seem too eager to demonstrate friendship for the new regime we may tend to confirm the stigma of Western vassal on it'.469 At the Foreign Office Keeble pointed out that several steps had to be taken before Vietnam could be recognised as an independent state: it was 'very doubtful', W. Evans added, that it could be done on the basis of the 8 March agreement.470 Hopson questioned this. Scrivener had accepted the views of the Legal Adviser, but thought it important that the form of words that conveyed recognition 'should not specifically indicate that the status conferred on Vietnam does not in fact amount to full independence'.471 Hopson was not quite sure what such recognition would mean, but it would certainly be 'unfortunate' to indicate that it did not amount to full independence. Attentistes like Ngo Dinh Diem were 'holding back because they hanker after full "dominion status"', and many members of Bao Dai's government probably held the same view: 'it would need only a little encouragement from us to torpedo the present negotiations.' The issue also raised the question of further political evolution. Schuman envisaged it in Washington, but it would

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presumably be politically impossible for the French government to declare that the 8 March agreement was only provisional. Transfer to the Foreign Ministry would be 'rather academic', as Vietnam could find neither men nor money for more than three or four posts. 'However, it would perhaps be a useful and inexpensive gesture for the French Government to make - rather like asking someone to dinner when you know he cannot come.' Hopson doubted if India would take the lead: 'Her present third force mentality, her apparently deep distrust of French intentions, and her ingenuous idea that a people is "free to choose" Communism appear to be serious obstacles.' But Siam might.472 Le Roy brought no official answer from the Quai to the Foreign Office's queries, but offered his own views: Vietnam was not in law an associated state before ratification; its status would be the same as that of Laos and Cambodia; its diplomatic missions would be like any others; ministers and ambassadors would be accredited in the normal way. He thought diplomatic representatives could be exchanged without formally raising the question of recognition.473 'It would not be possible . . . to exchange diplomatic representatives with Viet Nam without recognising it as some sort of a sovereign state and the exchange of representatives would itself constitute recognition if recognition had not been announced in some other way', Evans stated. Until Britain was prepared to recognise Vietnam as 'something', he did not see how it could urge India to do so.474 Visiting Paris, Dugardier urged backing by the West. He did not accept Ashley Clarke's view that 'an overt Western ganging up in South East Asia would drive genuine nationalists in the respective territories on to the wrong side of the fence': nationalists would join Bao Dai and the West in opposition to Chinese communism if they thought the Western powers were 'really serious . . . At present a certain half-heartedness was due to a desire to reinsure with both sides.'475 'The French seem to fail to appreciate fully the extent of Indian sympathy for Ho Chi Minh', Keeble noted.476 A 'very full answer' would soon be sent to the Foreign Office's queries, Dugardier said. The British should not be 'too legalistic': at its inception the Commonwealth was 'full of features . . . not easily capable of logical explanation'. He hoped India would take the lead: the Siamese were likely to be too fearful of 'Chinese Communist repercussions inside their country' ,477 Asking that the French ratify the agreement, and Bao Dai exercise powers of government, was not unduly legalistic, Keeble observed. Without that, India would not move any nearer recognition. 'The French must realise that the remedy lies largely in their own hands - in proving to the world that Viet Nam means something more than an unratified agreement and a government which does not govern.'478

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Le Roy called at the Foreign Office on 8 November, not with an answer to the Foreign Office's queries but with a report on them from a committee, mainly composed of lawyers, attached to the President of the Council of Ministers. In general its comments were like Le Roy's own, except that Vietnam was seen already as an associated state of the French Union. Its missions abroad should be treated as those of 'a fully independent sovereign government'. The question of recognition was not one of recognising a new state, since Vietnam, as Annam, had 'existed for many years and . . . for a long time been internationally recognised', but of recognising 'a new Government of a previously existing state'. All that was required was to raise foreign representatives in Saigon to the status of minister. Le Roy hoped that 'too much emphasis' would not be placed on ratification - the French government wanted to avoid a debate on it, as it 'might endanger their position' - and that Britain would proceed to raise the status of its representative. Scott thought that the analogy with Commonwealth countries, to which Le Roy pointed, was not close. In any case, however, it was not merely a matter of 'legal niceties'. The issue was the implementation of the agreement, and, still more, Bao Dai's chances of success. The outlook was at best 'uncertain'. Raising the status of Britain's representative would not be decisive, though, if it would help 'and if we are not going to be made to look foolish six months later', Scott favoured it. 'But the general impression one gets is that the French have taken great military risks since the war, without comparable political risks, and when real political concessions are made, it may again be the old story of too little and too late.'479 The Indian view had shifted in one sense. Nehru was persuaded that Ho Chi Minh was a communist. But he accepted the view of the Indian consul-general in Saigon, F. M. de Mello Kamath, that France must treat with him even so, given the poor prospects of Bao Dai. Nehru argued that in Pakistan, India and Burma communists had supported nationalists in their demand for independence, but when this was granted, they had tried in vain to seize power.480 The State Department could not support this line, nor could it accept UN mediation. At the same time it recognised that 'no amount of pressure on our part' could have educed from the French 'a promise of ultimate independence', needed for Bao Dai 'to lure support from Ho Chi Minh'.481 Menon sent the consulgeneral's report to Bevin, too.482 It was difficult to know what to reply: saying nothing might suggest the Foreign Office agreed; but it had its doubts about Bao Dai.483 'I am afraid there is a lot of truth in this report', wrote Bevin.484 'Whether Bao Dai will in fact prove a rallying point for nationalism in Indo-China, which is the avowed aim of the French Government, remains to be seen.' So ran the final reply, Bevin having deleted a further sentence: 'I hardly think, however, that Ho Chi Minh

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provides a suitable alternative, or that the rehabilitation of Indo-China can take place without French assistance.'485 Before leaving for MacDonald's Bukit Serene conference, Hopson discussed the position with Bonfils, the Political Adviser. A number of administrative services would be turned over to Bao Dai on 1 January and it was hoped that he would then 'come down off the fence' and 'issue a clear call to his people'. By mid-1950 it should be apparent whether the experiment had succeeded or failed. If Bao Dai had not shown that the Vietnamese could run the services they had taken over, and had not made sufficient progress in winning over the waverers and the nationalists, France would have to reconsider its policy. A truce, arbitration and withdrawal would ensue.486 The conference was concerned that if Bao Dai failed the French would withdraw, with 'disastrous effects' on the strategic position in Southeast Asia. It recommended that, without waiting for the Asiatic nations, the UK should offer de facto recognition on 1 January, when there was 'a transfer of power', and that Bao Dai should be notified of this before he got the discouraging news of Britain's recognition of the communist government in China. De jure recognition, it should be announced, would be offered when the agreement had been ratified by the Assembly in Paris and by one in Vietnam. Britain should try to persuade the US and some of the Commonwealth governments to take similar action. The UK should press ratification on the French and urge additional concessions to Bao Dai, while the US should urge the transfer to Foreign Affairs and extension of Vietnamese representation abroad. The US and the UK might issue a declaration on the Tonkin frontier like that made by Acheson on 18 May in Hong Kong, that in the event of an attack the US would fulfil its duties under the Charter.487 Keeble was unimpressed. 'The decisive factor will surely be the extent to which Bao Dai has really taken over on January 1st.' The frontier would be 'exceptionally difficult to guarantee, especially as the French do not fully control it'.488 Action on this recommendation awaited the outcome of the visit MacDonald was, as earlier envisaged, now about to pay to Vietnam. The Foreign Office had, however, already agreed that the CommissionerGeneral might convey an oral message from the Secretary of State to Bao Dai, conveying 'personal good wishes', and expressing the hope that he would succeed in establishing 'a stable representative government which will bring peace to your country and restore its prosperity'.489 The French government welcomed it.490 It was desirable, Scott argued, to 'give Bao Dai such encouragement as we can, short of (at this stage) formally committing ourselves to recognition'.491 Bevin agreed. He wanted Schuman told.492

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Sir Oliver Franks had found Kennan's planners pessimistic. It was not certain, however, that the policy side of the State Department was so 'despondent', and the Bukit Serene recommendations might get a favourable response. He suggested prompt representations.493 In fact, as Bevin's note indicated, the issue had been discussed at a tripartite meeting in Paris. A government crisis meant, however, that Schuman would not be 'in a position to initiate substantive talks on Indo-China'.494 In Paris Schuman argued that 'by opposing Ho Chi Minh, France was erecting a barrier against the advance of Communism'. He looked, not for recognition of Bao Dai, but for some 'expression of goodwill'. Acheson said that the US was 'anxious to give all possible help'. Nehru, however, did not consider him strong enough to survive, and it had previously been agreed that Asian recognition should come first. The US government would 'sympathetically consider any proposals put forward by France', but it must 'straighten out the constitutional position so that other Powers could proceed to recognition'. Bevin brought up the transfer to Foreign Affairs.495 Policy did not share planning's pessimism, it seemed. But, as Keeble said, Acheson was expecting proposals from the French.496 Late the following month - though only over dinner with Franks and Hume Wrong, the Canadian ambassador - Acheson offered 'a poem of praise' for French achievements in Indo-China. Bao Dai had a good chance, and the US, by contrast to its earlier views, would be ready to recognise and help Indo-China as soon as the French had offered recognition.497 MacDonald spent ten days in Vietnam. Bao Dai, with whom he had 'a long and cordial conversation' on 16 November,498 had, he concluded, 'the makings of a very adequate national leader',499 and the experiment rather more than a fifty per cent chance of success. The message had a good effect. Bao Dai and his supporters wanted help from the UK and the US: 'some form of diplomatic recognition . . . will be best of all'; making the consul-general minister would have a 'deep effect'. A declaration on the Tonkin frontier should also be made.500 Actual transfer of power was, as Pignon recognised, essential. To say that the Elysee accord was but a start, however, made Paris fear that Morocco and Algeria would demand more. Dugardier said that he and Pignon would like to give Vietnam 'Dominion' powers when the emergency was over; but suggesting it now would make the Vietnamese dissatisfied with the immediate prospects and assert that the emergency was over.501 The Indian consul-general did not share MacDonald's 'moderate optimism',502 but even he, though influenced by 'typical Indian anti-Colonial prejudice', would be more hopeful if France transferred more power to Bao Dai.503 Dugardier thought Pignon's views were opposed in Paris, and MacDonald suggested a message to the ambassador, Massigli.504

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MacDonald believed that, were it not for Chinese aid, the Viet Minh would be defeated, its national supporters gradually deserting it.505 In the conversations, he had argued that, but for the threat from Chinese communism, the internal situation in Vietnam could be 'restored' within a definite period. He 'pointed out that this was also true of Siam and of Malaya, and perhaps to a lesser extent of Burma. It was the moral boost given by the Chinese communist successes, to the "fifth column" in all these countries, and the hope of external aid from China in the future, which represented the most dangerous factor in the situation in South East Asia as a whole.' Recognition of Communist China was desirable, as the Bukit Serene conference had agreed, but Britain should give 'all possible moral and material aid to our friends, whether European or Asiatic, in the region'. Vietnam needed some recognition before, or at the same time, Pignon declared. Dugardier suggested that Britain might send a provisional delegate, as to Franco, or a special mission.506 At the Foreign Office Scott took up the question of a declaration about the Tonkin frontier, along the lines of Acheson's declaration on Hong Kong. A joint statement by the US and the UK- or even by the UK alone, through a parliamentary question - might be made. It 'would probably give satisfaction to the French and would not commit us to taking any unilateral action. It would also probably not be considered to be provocative by the Chinese Communist Government.'507 Strang was doubtful. Acheson had originally made a general statement, applying it specifically to Hong Kong only at a press conference. If Britain now suggested a statement on Indo-China, the US was likely to say that Acheson's statement already covered it and that no more was required. If the UK itself raised the matter, it would be approached for a similar statement by the Portuguese, the Burmese and others. 'Is it really worthwhile stirring all this up?'508 Dening thought not: he did not agree with the Bukit Serene recommendation.509 Scott told the American ambassador it was unlikely to be acted upon. 'The China-Burma frontier, he recalled, had never even been formally delimited in its entirety.' A guarantee of all the frontiers of China's southern neighbours might prove 'an overwhelmingly impossible undertaking'.510 One of MacDonald's other suggestions was, however, acted upon. In Paris Harvey told Alexandre Parodi about his impressions, and 'rubbed in discreetly' the importance of transferring power.511 Scott thought a message to Massigli might, however, be 'construed as an attempt to intervene in French domestic affairs'.512 Dening thought it would 'do no harm', but feared to give it a Foreign Office cachet, when 'we ourselves have not yet formulated our attitude though we hope to do so soon'.513 Strang spoke to Massigli.514

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The attitude the British formulated included, as initial steps, de facto recognition of Vietnam as an Associated State and raising the personal status of the consul-general to minister, subject to confirmation of a substantial transfer of power at the end of December. Pakistan had, however, put the matter on the Colombo agenda. Action could not therefore be taken before 9 January 1950, yet recognition of Communist China was due on 1 January.515 Ministers thought that there was 'a reasonable hope of the establishment of a regime under Bao Dai'. The prospects would be enhanced if Indian support were secured, and that might be more likely if France and India reached a satisfactory agreement over the French settlements on the Subcontinent.516 That view was conveyed to Massigli.517 Deferring the recognition till Colombo worried MacDonald: recognition of Peking would precede it by 'several weeks'. He again emphasised that Indo-China was 'now the most important bastion defending the democratic cause in South East Asia. If our Asian and French friends can hold Indo-China against Communist threat, there is a reasonable chance of every other country in South East Asia being held.' If not, Siam and Burma would 'probably go the same way'. Malaya could still be held except that it would face the loss of essential rice supplies, a problem of the 'gravest' nature.518 After meeting Massigli, who was also anxious on the point, Bevin decided to delay de jure recognition of China till 6 January, to give the French government more time to ratify. The latter was to be told that Bao Dai would be recognised after 30 December, that no public announcement could be made until after Colombo, but that Bao Dai could be informed confidentially: 'to make a public pronouncement of our decision before Colombo would be to wreck our chance of bringing Commonwealth countries, and in particular India, Pakistan and Ceylon, round to our point of view.'519 The Prime Minister agreed.520 The brief for the British delegation at Colombo argued that the solution in Indo-China was 'essentially political. Our objectives should be to do all we can to inspire confidence in Bao Dai among the Commonwealth and foreign countries in the area and in Indo-China itself; and to encourage the transfer of real power to him.' The French contended that Vietnam was an independent sovereign state, following the exchange of instruments that had taken place on 14 June 1949. They sought recognition not of the state, seen as a continuation of the empire of Annam, but of Bao Dai's government, and suggested that it was unnecessary to refer to the degree of independence it had attained. These views Britain could not accept: the regime was not a continuation of the old state of Annam, though it had 'some of the attributes of an international person'. The only alternative to Bao Dai, however, was a

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communist-dominated Viet Minh government, and that would be 'a victory for Communism not for Nationalism . . . Our task should be to persuade other Commonwealth Governments that Ho Chi Minh is not the right man to back.' Recognition of Communist China, if 'unaccompanied by any assurance or gesture or recognition to Bao Dai', would encourage the Viet Minh and discourage Bao Dai's supporters. A measure of recognition would increase Bao Dai's prestige within Vietnam and elsewhere in Southeast Asia. The attitude of India was 'of particular importance', since other Asian governments might follow its lead. Talks between MacDonald and the consul-general, and also between Dening and Nehru himself, suggested that its hostile attitude might be changing. Acheson's remarks in Paris suggested that the US might be prepared to follow the line Britain was taking: de facto recognition as an Associated State; advancing the personal status of the consul-general; pressing the French to ratify the agreement, to transfer Vietnam affairs to the Foreign Ministry, to accord Bao Dai 'the attributes of full sovereignty'; and indicating that de jure recognition would follow such steps.521 MacDonald gave the conference his positive impressions of IndoChina.522 Nehru, however, thought Bao Dai's was 'a puppet Government' and he did not think de facto recognition would 'lead to any happy result. The experience of the Indian Government with the remnants of the French Colonial system in India had been most discouraging and had led them to distrust French intentions in Indo-China.' He advised that 'no definite action' should be taken at this stage. Bevin argued that Pignon was seeking 'a final solution along the lines advocated by the United Kingdom Government'. Inaction would encourage 'the continuance of chaos, not the restoration of order'. Spender of Australia supported Bevin: de facto recognition would increase the prestige of the Bao Dai regime and might help to ensure its stability; at worst, it 'could not do positive harm'. New Zealand's policy, F. W. Doidge said, had been to wait, but he was now disposed to advise de facto recognition. 'If the Bao Dai regime was not recognised, what was the alternative? Was it not to abandon Indo-China to Communist domination?' Ghulam Mohammed of Pakistan doubted if Bao Dai could achieve stability, so long as France gave him limited powers; yet 'it might well be unsafe for the French to withdraw until there was a stable nationalist Government capable of maintaining order. The lesson of Burma must not be forgotten'. Ho Chi Minh's party, like Bao Dai's, depended chiefly on 'the nationalist elements within it, but if it became isolated from the democratic Powers it might come wholly under Communist influence'. If he had to advise the French, he would advise them to try to bring about 'a rapprochement between the two Parties' on the basis of free elections to a constituent assembly. Bevin 'doubted the wisdom of any

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attempt to mediate . . . and thought that the only result of such an attempt would be to intensify the civil war'. Senanayake and Pearson of Canada suggested 'a middle course between recognising Bao Dai and taking no action': a communique noting 'with satisfaction the steps which had been taken to establish an independent nationalist Government in Viet Nam'.523 No formula could, however, be devised that satisfied all delegations. It was agreed to keep in touch, without prejudice to the right of governments to take their own decisions.524 Bevin believed that, had the French ratified by the time of the meeting, all the governments but India would have come down in favour of recognition.525 Ratification had, however, been delayed beyond 12 January 1950, the date given by Massigli, and the delay over the exchange of notes on French possessions in India had had an effect. Harvey was told to speak to Schuman.526 If France had stuck to the January date, Bevin said, he could have put the matter in a different light at Colombo. 'As it is, I want to be certain that I am not going to be let down by the French.'527 Schuman attributed the failure to ratify to 'the difficulties of the French Parliamentary situation'. He now thought that it would be done by the end of the month; 'but both the Socialists and the Right had agreed to support it and so it was unlikely that the debates would cause difficulty'. The government spokesman would emphasise the 'evolutionary character of the present measure', Schuman indicated. Transfer from the Ministry of Overseas France was being considered. He agreed with Harvey that recognition might await the delayed ratification, the original intention of countering the recognition of Communist China being now irrelevant.528 Given the recognition of China, however, MacDonald wanted recognition of Bao Dai even before ratification.529 A report that Communist China and the Viet Minh regime had opened diplomatic relations Scott saw as 'a new and disturbing factor'. The British government should go ahead with the Bao Dai recognition after the ratification.530 Bevin agreed.531 The Prime Minister approved de facto recognition once ratification took place.532 By the end of the month the Assembly had indeed ratified the agreement, though no statement had, despite Schuman's assurance, been made about its being part of an evolutionary process. It still had to go before the Senate, the Assembly of the Union and the President.533 By this time the Soviet Union had recognised the Viet Minh regime. MacDonald thought this made recognition 'even more urgent'. The recognition of China and Chinese and Soviet recognition of Ho Chi Minh had given him 'the balance of advantage': Bao Dai had only received a letter from Acheson. Coordination with the US or the Commonwealth should not delay action: indeed staggered acts of recognition would give Bao Dai 'a series of successes'.534 In Paris, however, Bevin

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told Schneiter and Parodi, who came to see him in place of a flu-struck Schuman, that recognition would have to be put to Cabinet on his return to London: he said he wanted to strengthen the announcement.535 Bevin was keen to act, MacDonald was told. 'But in view of opening of election campaign, of doubts about wisdom of recognition in some quarters here [in London], and of French Government crisis affecting socialists who have in the past been opposed to recognition, he thinks it would be wise to base his action upon a formal governmental decision.'536 He secured Cabinet approval on 7 February.537 What was offered was 'recognition' as an Associated State: the words de factowere dropped, though dejurewas not added. The French had urged this, given the Russian recognition of Ho Chi Minh,538 and the Prime Minister agreed.539 It was not, however, proposed to establish a legation at this point: Gibbs was to be given the personal rank of minister. The Legal Advisers thought the position of Associated States incompatible with diplomatic relations, Dening explained, though the matter could be considered after the elections.540 Bevin had told his Colombo colleagues that the US had decided to urge the Philippines to recognise Bao Dai when the agreement of 8 March had been ratified.541 He was also able to tell the Cabinet that the US had announced recognition.542 Divided as it was, the State Department had initially planned not to go 'beyond what the British and such Commonwealth countries as follow the UK lead are prepared to do', and to follow them.543 It came, however, to favour immediate de jure recognition. The UK had planned to save up recognition in order to secure more concessions from France, but France had for the moment gone as far as it could. Mao Tse-tung's government had been recognised without qualification.544 The Soviet and Chinese recognition was another argument the Americans put.545 'We have worked hard for a long time to stimulate American interest in Indo-China', P. F. Kinna wrote, and the Foreign Office could take 'some of the credit' for the US decision, 'though it is also true that the final spur was no doubt Russian recognition of Viet Minh'.546 The State Department suggested that merely giving Gibbs the personal rank of minister was 'a skittish and timorous approach to problem of according diplomatic recognition . . . which wld tend in large measure to negate the benefits of such recognition'.547 If 'skittish and timorous' were 'apt as applied to us', Scott asked Arthur Ringwalt, 'then in what terms would your adjectival pundits describe the policy of other governments (including with the greatest respect your own) who have lagged behind us awaiting a lead?'548 Other governments followed: Australia, New Zealand, Italy, Greece, Belgium and Siam.549 India did not. 'No amount of persuasion will',

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Lloyd feared, '. . . make Nehru change his mind. He has an idee fixe about Bao Dai being a French puppet. Even if Bao Dai were given full and unqualified independence Nehru would find it difficult to give him full credit as a national leader.'550 He did not, however, recognise the Ho Chi Minh regime either.551 Military support was another matter. Expressing gratitude to Bevin for British recognition of Bao Dai, Massigli had thought the US was considering further steps. 'The Ambassador then suggested that we might do something as well, but I replied that our hands were already full with the problems of Malaya and Hong Kong, and there might, I added, be intensification at the present time of the Malaya question in practice.'552 Though the French sought a commitment in the event of a Chinese invasion, the Joint Intelligence Committee thought 'moral and material support' for the Viet Minh more likely and believed a frank exchange of views was needed. Bevin accepted informal talks along these lines.553 Only the CRO was doubtful. India regarded the French 'as a relic of an outdated and oppressive Imperialism which ought to be got rid of. There was, too, 'an obvious danger in engaging in these talks with the object of boosting French morale if, in fact, there is little we can do to help'.554 The US was, however, now considering military aid.555 It announced economic and military aid to France and the associated states on 8 May, one week after Lin Piao 'liberated' Hainan.556 A formal agreement followed in December.557 Ho Chi Minh was a communist and, despite Yugoslavia, the US and the UK could not advocate dealing with him, because of the wider implications: 'no responsible American official believes that we can afford to take a chance that Asiatic Communism will in a reasonable future become a national Communism more friendly to U.S. than to the USSR', as Bruce put it.558 In any case, the French would not do so despite the prevarications of the Socialists. The alternatives were, however, unsatisfactory. Its 'failure' in China restrained the US for a while. But the intensification of the Cold War, the triumph of the Chinese communists and the perception, shared by the British, that Southeast Asia might also 'fall' pushed the US towards an increasing involvement in what Charlton Ogburn for one believed a 'hopeless cause'.559 Military aid to Thailand was also approved,560 to be speeded up by the Korean outbreak later in the year.561 Siam had hesitated over recognition. Sir Geoffrey Thompson had reported that the government was anxious that Bao Dai's regime should succeed 'since they are convinced that otherwise it can only be a matter of time (and relatively short time at that) before Indo-China falls into the Communist bag'. Pibun, however, did not think that Bao Dai's path ran very far; was aware that 'many thousands' of francophobe refugees would resent recognition; and felt

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'a trifle sensitive to attacks made upon him for allegedly being subservient to western powers in his anti Communist policy'.562 Visiting Bangkok late in December, MacDonald found Pibun and his Foreign Minister sceptical about Bao Dai and about the good faith of France. They wanted to follow any recognition Britain gave, 'but doubt whether this will be politically possible until rather later'.563 Pibun acted at the end of February. The Foreign Minister resigned.564 Thai policy responded not only to the Cold War, but to Pibun's need 'to enhance his political stock against all domestic rivals and opposition'.565 Thai cooperation Rice was no longer an issue, but discussions over revising the 1946 agreement between Siam and Britain continued throughout 1949. One 'vexed question' - to use Strang's phrase - was the war damage claim. Britain had proposed accepting the frozen assets in the UK, plus £1 million in ticals. This the Thais saw as excessive, not only in respect of the £1 million, but also in respect of the assets. No Siamese government, the Deputy Foreign Minister told Thompson, could agree to surrender all of them, since Siam wished to use part of them for rehabilitation.566 That response, Christofas suggested, seemed to be the 'opening move of standard oriental bargaining practice'.567 The Siamese thought the claims were of the order of £7 million, while the assets were over £9 million. The claims, originally estimated at £15 million, were indeed not in fact so much. The assets would probably cover them, though that was not certain. If they exceeded the claims, the balance, Britain had indicated, would be returned.568 Thompson suggested settling for £7 million, plus what had been received so far, leaving the Thais with about £1 million worth of their frozen assets. He had no 'special sympathy' with their attitude, but the question could 'cast a shadow over our whole relationship with these people at a moment when we need their cooperation politically . . . and economically'. The outcome was likely to be 'a whining approach to the Americans', in which 'we need expect no support from our TransAtlantic cousins'; 'passive obstruction and consequent inaction for months, coupled with a less friendly attitude towards our commercial interests'; and 'in due course, the inevitable calculated "leakage" to the Press with repercussions in the Assembly and elsewhere.' After so much time, the seizure of assets is hard 'to put across convincingly here', 'where the Siamese have no sense of guilt over the war, and where our enemies and competitors are ready at any time to make mischief at our expense'. Britain would 'drift and wrangle along in an increasingly difficult atmosphere, until in the long run, compelled perhaps by major

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events elsewhere in Asia', it had to give way, losing any benefit it might gain from a more realistic policy. That 'cut little ice' with other departments: 'we have had rather bitter experiences, i.e. the rice procurement policies of the Treasury in 1945, 1946 and 1947.' In a Chamberlainesque phrase, Sir Geoffrey suggested that they had too much to say 'in the handling of delicate political problems in remote countries of which they know little'.569 Christofas was against further concessions. Britain should not be 'unduly worried by American interference': difficulties, Thompson said, came from US commercial interests, not from Stanton. As for Britain's commercial interests, Siam had considerable quantities of sterling in any case, and this was being augmented by rice sales.570 If the British had decided on £7 million, Lloyd added, 'the Siamese would have tried to get away with £5m'.571 The Siamese, Thompson was told, were not being asked to pay 'because they feel guilty; our case rests in legal and treaty obligations. The trouble is that there has been so much delay . . . and it is precisely because . . . the Siamese are not wholly to blame for the delay that we are inclined to be generous.' Even if there was no agreement on a lump sum, 'we can still fall back on their undertaking to settle all claims in full'.572 Other departments had never been entirely responsible for the approach to Siam, of which Thompson complained. Most of the other treaty issues were not raised with Siam pending the settlement of this issue. They had, however, been discussed with other departments. The colonial authorities agreed with the Chiefs of Staff on dropping the security-related articles, as they were not needed on defence grounds; but they hoped for some provision against a Kra canal on economic grounds.573 It was doubtful if such a provision could be included in an agreement, Palliser thought: the chances that a canal would be cut 'within the next generation or two' were 'remote'.574 'Political developments in South East Asia have made it increasingly necessary for us to base our policies on the willing co-operation of independent Asiatic peoples', the Colonial Office was told, 'and we are therefore most anxious to avoid any formula which would openly limit the freedom of an independent Asiatic state to develop as fully as it can its resources and potentialities.' The 'main interest' was 'to prevent Siam from falling into Communist hands and for this purpose we need to encourage the national feeling of the Siamese and their sense of complete equality with ourselves'.575 A provision opposing a Kra canal would arouse international protest: it would be denounced as protecting vested interests.576 Thompson had argued for 'a more forthcoming policy' towards the Pibun regime, which showed 'every sign of making a serious endeavour to stand firm against the forces of disorder'. With 'virtual chaos in China, Indo-China and Burma and with grave disorders in Malaya, what

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can be expected from Siam with her large Chinese fifth column, if she be left to her own devices?'577 The Bukit Serene conference reawakened Thompson's concern over Britain's treatment of Siam. 'Malaya's frontier lies on the Mekong', and Britain's policy should be 'positive and generous'. Yet in London, both within the Foreign Office and with other departments, 'decisions and compromises' were 'too often reached with little real appreciation of their effect on sensitive Orientals seven thousand miles distant, and with small regard to the wider issues at stake'. It was 'only necessary for Siam to have a Government friendly or subservient to the Chinese, for our task in Malaya to become impossible'. A border police agreement had been reached. But 'the tide of goodwill' was 'beginning to recede', given the 'interminable haggling about war claims, the great shock to our prestige of sterling devaluation, the fears aroused by the on-rush of Communist nationalism in China, the rather unfriendly activities of local Americans', and the British stand against a contemplated increase in the sterling price of export rice.578 Scott accepted that interdepartmental consultation took time, as in the case of the paper on economic development in Asia. Selling Spitfires to Siam - an issue Thompson had raised - was in fact delayed by supply difficulties. 'The fact is that we have very little butter to spread over a large amount of bread, and there is bound to be a bit of a tug-of-war over which piece of bread gets spread.'579 In Bangkok, Anderson outlined 'probable reasons for Siamese "cooling-off" towards us'. Britain's policy in India and Burma after the war did it 'a lot of good' in Siam. 'There was of course the suspicion that our decision came from weakness, but we were given credit for having contributed to the stability of the area (especially when compared with the French and the Dutch).' Now that stability was threatened, 'the Thais wonder just how wise we are, and more important, how strong we are'. Reports on 'the anti-terrorist campaign' in Malaya tended to be pessimistic. 'There is also the propaganda point that we are behaving in a colonial territory, where we thought we were strong enough, just as the French or Dutch might behave, and what is worse that we may be militarily and economically too weak to carry our policy through.' The prospective recognition of China led Thais 'to wonder just how serious we are in our desire to counter the spread of communism', and whether they would gain 'by siding with us in the "cold war"'. Their aim was to check the penetration and intervention of the Chinese, whether communist or otherwise. 'Our readiness to do a deal with the Chinese worries them, and leads them to examine our policies more critically also in regard to the other territories in the area.' Thai politicians were 'deeply suspicious of the brand of socialism preached by some of the Burmese leaders. They know that for prestige, and probably for business

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reasons too, we feel bound to stick by the Burmese Government (whom we may be hoping to lure back into the Commonwealth).' They, however, had a traditional fear of Burmese aggression and now feared that Burma, 'turned communist', would be 'a springboard for Chinese aggression - or a training ground for agitators'. The Thais also thought backing Bao Dai was unrealistic: 'an indication that we have not yet been completely weaned from old-fashioned colonialism'; a sign of'weakness or muddleheadedness'. Divergence between the US and the UK over China, 'our economic weakness', indications that the US would not undertake military commitments in Southeast Asia, all 'made the Thais nervous. They tend to think of us as very much dependent on the US, and if the US are not prepared to back us, they wonder whether it is a good risk aligning themselves with us.' The Thais were determined to preserve their independence. They did not want to be 'tied to anyone', but 'to paddle their own canoe'. That could suit Britain if it offered tangible help. 'We should make up our minds very soon whether the defence of Thailand is essential. . . , and if it is we should rapidly find the means to make it effective . . . Naval visits are all right but a territorial guarantee with evidence of force to back it up would be better.'580 Thompson reiterated that the devaluation of sterling was a blow at Britain's prestige, and also reduced the value of Siam's deposits in London by 30 per cent.581 Scott agreed, but said it was in the general interest of the bloc and of currencies linked to it. He also dealt with Anderson's points. In Malaya the campaign had thwarted communist attempts to seize power: the 'mopping up process' was 'bound to be a tedious military/police operation'. An encouraging sign was 'increased co-operation by the Chinese community with the authorities and even with the Malays'. It was not, Scott thought, 'a question of our military and economic strength so much as whether our long-term policy evolution to self-government' was 'politically practicable'. Racial cleavage had so far 'prevented the growth of a healthy nationalism with general popular support'. On balance, the recognition of China was not inconsistent with opposing its interference elsewhere: 'our general anti-communist attitude' was 'in no way modified'. Non-recognition on Siam's part would not stop communism there: indeed it might only consolidate Chinese opinion against the government and increase propaganda from China. In respect of Burma and Indo-China, surely Siam was unrealistic, not Britain. 'In both countries our policy is admittedly a gamble, but in neither do we see any constructive alternative.' Britain was certainly not trying 'to lure Burma back into the Commonwealth': it would be unpopular in Britain, Burma, the US, the Commonwealth itself; and it 'would impose on us financial and military burdens beyond our capacity'. In both countries, Britain wanted 'a stable prosperous

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administration free from communist control: surely this is precisely the interest of Siam also?' Maybe it would fail; 'but in our view that is no reason for washing our hands of the problem and sitting by wringing our hands'. The US was 'taking a closer and more realistic interest in Asia than a few months ago': it had asked for Britain's views on economic development. 'Apart from China, there is remarkable identity of view between us and the State Department on most world problems.' Scott wondered whether the Thais were really so 'superficial' as Anderson's report suggested. Perhaps their 'ingrained timidity' inclined them 'to cling to the illusion of neutrality, when in fact neutrality is no longer possible'. Their repeated seeking for assurances might produce 'the opposite result. People may begin to wonder whether allies who seem to be so helpless and so slow to make up their minds are allies worth having.' The Siamese must realise 'that the defence of Siam is vital to them' and 'that whilst in this uncertain world salvation is not guaranteed, paddling their own canoe invites certain destruction'.582 Sir Geoffrey could not fail to respond. He thought Scott 'much too optimistic' about Malaya. And what, he asked, would happen 'if the terrorists increased to say ten or twenty thousand? This is precisely what may well occur if there should ever be (as there may well be) a Government in this country friendly and/or subservient to the Chinese communists'. Pibun and the Foreign Minister, Thompson continued, appreciated Britain's position on the recognition of China; but they were 'terrified of China' and hesitated to adopt a policy that would mean the establishment of a Chinese communist embassy and consulates. The Thais, rightly or wrongly, had little faith in the Rangoon government, and their concern over the anti-French refugees made them hesitate over Bao Dai. Thompson found Scott's remarks about allies 'extremely irritating'. Under present circumstances, 'when we are desperately on the defensive in the Far East, . . . this country is politically, strategically and economically important to us, especially vis-d-vis Malaya', and had also been 'exceptionally friendly and cooperative'. Only on war claims had the British failed to achieve rapid or sufficient results, 'and this is due to the fact that our policy has been dictated by rigid and narrow-minded Civil Servants in the Enemy Property Department'. Britain had done little in return, nor expressed appreciation, even over the border policy agreement. '. . . you and your department should realize rather more clearly . . . that the art of diplomacy does not consist in taking everything from a foreign country, and giving as little as possible in return.'583 The Bukit Serene conference had recognised the strategic importance of Siam: Britain should attempt to meet its requirements for military equipment and allow for political factors in negotiating over war

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claims.584 MacDonald urged a guarantee or an Acheson-style declaration. Affirmation of obligations under the UN in respect of Siam would, however, cast doubts on the intention to honour them elsewhere, and unilateral assumptions of commitments outside the charter would give Britain responsibilities it might not be able to discharge. The only hope of meeting the threat in Southeast Asia was, as Bevin would say at Colombo, by collective action, involving the Commonwealth, US support and 'a greater measure of internal stability' in the countries threatened, Indo-China, Siam and Burma. No amount of outside encouragement could save them 'unless the Burmans, the Siamese and the French display sufficient energy and determination to save themselves', as Dening put it. The British could not 'become the victims of blackmail'.585 Stanton had commented on the memorandum Bevin had given Acheson in April. Among some Thais there was 'a feeling of fatalism and a resignation to the fact that Thailand in the not too distant future will be confronted by a powerful force which she alone is unable to cope with'. The Thais naturally looked to the Western powers, but in the absence of any indication of support they might 'bow to force' which by themselves they could not resist. The grouping together of the nations of South and Southeast Asia in a front against communism, 'as hoped for by the British', was 'most desirable', but 'problematical and not likely in the immediate future'.586 In the New Year, however, Thailand was to recognise Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. One object of Pibun and the military members of the Cabinet was to secure US military aid.587 Thailand also resolved not to recognise China and it was to be very prompt in offering ground troops in Korea.588 The US military aid that followed was 'given on a balanced ratio to the various armed services'. The UK finally reached a settlement on war damages in May 1950: £5,245,000.589 The collaboration along the Malayan border continued. Optimism in Malaya and Borneo

The optimism about the Malayan 'Emergency' that Thompson was unable to share emanated in part from the authorities there. Early in 1949 Sir Henry Gurney set out the two anticipated phases in the campaign, the first from the beginning of 1949 'until the final defeat of the militant Communists as an effective force', and the second, 'in which the internal security has been restored to the extent that it is no longer necessary for Imperial troops to be permanently deployed on operations in aid of the civil power'. The first phase, it was believed, would last for the whole of 1949, but not longer. The second phase would go to the end of 1951. MacDonald admitted the inadequacy of intelligence, but supported an optimistic assessment.590

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The Colonial Office wanted to strike a confident note: planting and mining interests showed 'uneasiness'. In a phase in which the dollarearning territories were of even greater importance, Malaya was overwhelmingly the greatest of them: the figures were Ceylon $23 million, Gambia $24.5, Gold Coast $47.5 and Malaya $172 million.591 The failure of Britain's policy in Burma damaged the strategic position, and also the validity of the approach it had been advocating towards nationalism in the region. Burma's economic significance was far less: though its rice was important, it was seen as a potential, if not actual burden for Britain and a return to the Commonwealth, unlikely anyway, was not to be welcome. The Malaya case was very different. The second Dutch police action, the Colonial Office feared, might worsen the security situation in Malaya, already made more difficult by events in China. Rees-Williams, the Parliamentary Under-Secretary, hoped that Britain's attitude in the Security Council would show 'the Malay population that we are sincere in our protestations of ultimate independence and that we in no wise countenance Dutch policy'. He realised that it was also necessary 'to consider carefully our general relations with the Dutch'.592 Balancing these and other concerns was indeed to test the Foreign Office. From New York, Hector McNeil, the Minister of State, wrote early in April 1949 of the wish of India and Australia to bring the Indonesian question before the General Assembly. One point was rarely made, he said: the importance of Indonesia to the Dutch economy. Even if a settlement were made, Indonesia and its resources might fall to the communists. That was not an argument for modifying 'our view that the Dutch should try to develop a commonwealth in the same way as we have' and there could be no going back on the UN resolution: it was 'the best policy'. But it had a bearing on Malaya. 'It would clearly be disastrous if Malaya were ever to meet the same fate as Burma. We should of course lose one of our principal sources of vital raw materials, as a result of which the economy not only of the United Kingdom but of the United States also would suffer very severely.' In 'the foreseeable future' Britain would be met with 'strong demands for constitutional developments in Malaya' which it would be 'very rash to grant if there was the remotest risk of things developing badly'.593 'As regards your point about the possibility of Malaya becoming another Burma and thus upsetting the pattern of Western economic recovery', Mayhew replied, 'we have this very much in mind (as well as, of course, the welfare of the Malayan people).'594 Malaya might indeed be a political embarrassment like Burma, or even perhaps like Indonesia. The Thais, Anderson suggested, were comparing Britain's actions with those of the French and the Dutch. The British sought to stress that they were dealing with 'terrorism' and that it

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was an 'emergency' not an insurrection. Even that language echoed the terms Van Mook had applied to the Indonesian revolutionaries and the French to the Viet Minh. The British were more successful in so characterising the opposition and the Americans accepted that, no doubt the more readily because of their growing consciousness of the communist threat. After discussing Indo-China with Acheson in Washington in September, Bevin referred to Malaya. [He] said that the activities of the terrorists made it difficult to make any progress in the way of constitutional development. There was general agreement on the American side that the situation in Malaya was quite different from that prevailing in Indo-China since the Malays looked to the British for protection against the Chinese and were not at present seeking any further degree of independence.595

The shift away from the policy of union to the policy of federation had been in search of stability and economic restoration. It had been possible, however, to fit it into the policy of coming to terms with nationalism, even though it was a Malay nationalism that burst into activity, not the Malayan nationalism Britain had planned to cultivate. How far or in what sense the shift was a calculation based on Britain's economic interests remains controversial, but the Emergency increasingly suggested that the policy was not serving even those objectives. If a Malayan nationalism could not be called into existence, a Malayan approach was essential. The pressures of the Emergency were in fact to bring about the initial steps, including the creation of a Communities Liaison Office, encouraged by MacDonald. At the Bukit Serene conference, Malaya, like other issues, was considered in relation to the approaching British recognition of the communist regime in China. It would encourage the 'near-Communist tendencies' of the socialists in Burma, and undermine Bao Dai. But it would not affect the attitude of the Chinese communities in British territories, who had already 'tacitly accepted' the communist regime.596 That was again an unduly optimistic appraisal. Broadcasts from Peking had urged support for 'liberation armies' and made it seem risky for Chinese people to work openly against the MCP. Recognition suggested that the British had 'weakened their position in Malaya for the sake of Hong Kong', that communist consuls would replace nationalist ones, and that pressure would be exerted on family members still in China if cooperation were not forthcoming.597 The outbreak of the Korean war had, however, its positive side. The vigour with which the United Nations and particularly the United States have gone into action in defence of the Republic of Korea have increased

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popular confidence in the determination of the Western Powers to resist aggression in Asia. Fear of aggression from China has been one of the dominant factoi • n persuading many people in Malaya, particularly among the Chinese, to sit on the fence or even aid the Malayan Communist Party in minor ways.598

The Emergency had little impact on Borneo. In Sarawak Governor Stewart was assassinated in December 1949, but that was part of the anticession struggle, driven to extremism by its frustration, and in fact it destroyed the movement, because the community was alienated by violence and the government acted punitively.599 In some sense the Borneo policy of 1945 was being carried out. But coordination among the Borneo territories was becoming less likely, not more. Brunei indeed resented the Governor of Sarawak's becoming also High Commissioner for Brunei.600 Nor was the future of these territories necessarily a merely internal matter. In the discussions in The Hague, Indonesian leaders discussed not only a claim to West New Guinea but one to British Borneo, as Stikker told Bevin.601 Neither the Foreign Office nor the Colonial Office took the claim seriously.602 'If it does ever become a matter of importance it will be after some years, when the Indonesians have had time to digest their present territory.'603 In 1950 Diosdado Macapagal was to author a concurrent resolution in the Philippines Congress, also sponsored by Escareal, that it was the sense of the Congress 'that subject to the lease rights of the British Government, the territory known as the British North Borneo belongs to the heirs of the Sultanate of Sulu and falls under the ultimate sovereignty of the Republic of the Philippines', and that the President should take steps to restore the ownership to the heirs and the recognition of Philippines sovereignty.604 'There seems little cause for alarm and none for action', Burgess wrote at the Foreign Office.605 No initiative in foreign policy ensued. The new republic still hesitated to challenge Britain.606 The Philippines and the Baguio initiative

The creation of NATO and the advance of the Chinese communists aroused Filipino interest in a 'Pacific pact'. President Quirino told Thomas H. Lockett, the American charge, that the US was 'the only country that could supply a leadership adequate to remedy existing conditions'.607 He also saw a pact as a means of observing and directing the 'resurgence' ofJapan, 'so that its responsibility to other Far Eastern nations would develop in the right channels'.608 The State Department gave no encouragement and the Philippines ambassador in Washington,

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Joaquin Elizalde, implied that talk of a pact arose from the domestic political situation and did not need to be taken seriously.609 He may have been more positive in reporting to Quirino.610 Soon after Nehru announced the New Delhi conference, the Chinese government had proposed a conference, including India, Burma, Siam, the Philippines and South Korea, designed to form an Asiatic anticommunist bloc. 'The only practical defence against Communism', Panikkar replied, 'was the creation of conditions in which it would not flourish.' He thought the KMT government was trying to involve other powers in the civil war.611 In July Chiang Kai-shek and Quirino got together at Bagiuo. They issued a joint statement on 11 July. This called for a 'union' of Far Eastern countries against 'the Communist menace', and envisaged calling a preliminary conference 'to devise concrete measures for its organisation'.612 The hope was that, like Western Union, this union would elicit US aid.613 Quirino told Lockett that, as the US was 'too indifferent or occupied', he, Chiang, and Syngman Rhee of Korea had 'gone ahead'.614 It was even suggested that the leadership might go to the British if the Americans did not assume it.615 Soundings in other countries produced a negative response to the Chiang-Quirino proposal. In Australia Evatt sought to sidestep the proposals by referring to resolution 3 of the New Delhi conference.616 Madame Pandit discouraged Elizalde.617 In Wellington Alister Mclntosh told the Chinese consul-general that New Zealand would be guided by the US and the UK.618 'This country is anxious - or at least not unwilling - to see a workable pact promoted by the major Western Democracies, but is chary of involvement with various Asian countries with whom we have little in common and absolutely no desire to support with military force.'619 Dening thought the idea 'fantastic'. He believed that 'combination of discredited former Chinese president, Philippine politician with not too good reputation, and head of insecure Korean state as nucleus of Pacific union' reduced the whole thing to 'absurdity'. It would irritate other Asian nations. In India the press was saying that the US was behind it and Chiang's aim was to make as much mischief as possible.620 Peter Scarlett tried to give the Chinese Minister Counsellor 'the impression that the whole manoeuvre was so ludicrous that we have not bothered to give it thought'.621 The involvement of Carlos Romulo did not make the initiative any more welcome to the UK, though it did to the US. The thrust would become anti-colonial, Burgess commented. 'Romulo aggrandisement' Tomlinson called it.622 He had difficulty in persuading Quirino to divorce the idea from Chiang Kai-shek.623 The instructions he finally secured, however, made only incidental reference to China and none to

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Korea. He was to sound out 'interested countries' as to a conference at Baguio 'to discuss methods of closer political, economic, and cultural cooperation for preservation peace, democracy and freedom in Asia'. The union was intended to implement the Delhi resolution, the instructions stated. They spoke of the threat of totalitarianism and of the need to hasten the emergence of Asian countries as independent nations.624 The anti-colonial emphasis concerned the British.625 It was 'a sort of deviationist neo-Pacific Union doctrine which is mainly anti-colonial'.626 In Singapore the US consul-general related the State Department's view. 'We think [Romulo's] approach to the creation of a viable association has elements of realism in it, and [is?] something we and others might welcome. The fact that he will head up the preparatory work is an encouraging factor.'627 Tomlinson thought that State Department's view of Romulo's activities 'really rather alarming'. Otherwise their attitude was, as MacDonald said, 'reasonably prudent and realistic'.628 In Bangkok the Deputy Foreign Minister sounded out the British ambassador about approaches from his Filipino counterpart. Sir Geoffrey thought that the Thais, 'politically far more mature than certain peoples who had recently achieved or were in process of achieving independence', could offer 'useful advice'. Quirino seemed to have a bee in his bonnet about colonialism. Britain, Sir Geoffrey went on, 'had given every evidence of her sympathy with the natural desire of subjected people to be free'. But to apply to Malaya the policy that had been applied to India would 'lead to a free-for-all between the Chinese the Malays and Indians'. Quirino could be encouraged to 'appreciate realities of this kind'.629 Quirino was only a politico, Tomlinson commented. It was Romulo who expounded anti-colonialism, 'which even in his case is only one facet of "Romulism" \630 New Zealand took the same view of the Romulo version as of the Chiang-Quirino version: the US and the UK must be involved,631 Corner adding that the New Zealand government did not 'look upon itself as an Asiatic government but rather as an extension into the southern Pacific of Western Europe'.632 Romulo had given a 'spin' to the original proposals, R. Ross commented at the Commonwealth Relations Office, and the government in Manila might now 'envisage an enlistment of the nations of Asia under the Philippine banner for the purpose of ejecting the Western colonial powers from their possessions in the Pacific'. From the UK and the Australian point of view, this was 'a dangerous conception'.633 In November Romulo told McNeil in Washington that Australia and New Zealand were invited by the 'Asiatics' so as to indicate that the project was 'not completely the sphere of the "brown man"'. He played down colonial questions, and sought British support.634 Tomlinson

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thought that the states chosen for inclusion in the union had little in common and did not even 'share the relatively high degree of awareness of the nature of the communist threat on which Western Union is based'. The project was 'imprecise and ill-considered', and 'most unlikely to gain wide support and develop along the right lines so long as the Philippines are determined to play a leading part. Unfortunately the Americans seem to consider that the Philippines are fully qualified for such a role.' But Britain could leave it to the Asiatic countries, especially India, 'to react in such a way as to deflate Philippine pretentions'. Hibbert thought it 'a little odd that we are asked to bless something from which we are excluded'. Lloyd thought Colombo would be a 'useful sounding board'.635 Nehru had refused to attend the proposed conference, to the State Department's annoyance.636 Dutt told Roberts that India would not discourage the Romulo proposals, but would take no initiative.637 At the CRO Noel-Baker considered the telegram from Washington 'most important'.638 Ross and W. J. Coe offered no support for the Philippines proposal, but believed that a pact or association of some kind would be a logical extension of the North Atlantic treaty and 'complete the chain of opposition to the advance of Communist domination'. A piecemeal approach only increased 'the scope for piecemeal reduction of the States of South East Asia to Communist controlled satellites'. There were, however, signs that 'the most essential participants' were shifting the views. India had recognised the need to assist Burma and was cooperating in Commonwealth discussions. Australia had called a conference in Canberra after the one in Singapore, recognising that it had a part to play. Perhaps the US could be encouraged to show active interest in regional collaboration if it could be shown that the Commonwealth countries supported it. Colombo offered 'an ideal opportunity to discuss this question'. It was necessary, too, to counterbalance the negative effect of recognising Communist China.639 The initiative must come from within the Commonwealth, if the cooperation was to be developed in the right lines, but US participation was essential, N. R. Metcalf wrote. US policy was moving closer to UK policy, 'and may come still closer when they have got over the defeat of their policy in China, and face up to a Japanese Peace Treaty'. For, when US support was withdrawn from Japan, he thought, there was clearly a risk that the Japanese will turn again to the prewar 'co-prosperity' plan, even at the cost of embracing Communism as a solution to their pressing population and financial problems. The Peace Treaty cannot be indefinitely delayed because of this risk and the only way to guard against it will be to build up in South East Asia strong regional cooperation first in the economic field and later in the political and defence fields.

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The Colombo conference might bring the question 'out into the open and if the growing danger of Communism encourages progress towards co-operation there should be little risk that Romulo's plan will make much headway'.640 The long-term British aim, Garner commented, was 'some form of regional understanding' covering Southeast Asia, with US support and inclusion. That could not be achieved at the present time. But 'we must try to overcome the suspicions of India', which the Colombo meeting was partly designed to do, and '"work on" the United States in any way that is open to us'.641 The British embassy in Washington allowed Kennan to read the second of the two papers of the Permanent Under-Secretary's Committee. He reciprocated with his paper of 29 March, along the lines of which, he said, the State Department was moving. There was, Kennan thought, a 'remarkable similarity of view', and he thought joint AngloAmerican action and multilateral collaboration could be 'entirely successful'.642 The talks in Washington in September had shown 'a large measure of agreement, Lloyd observed. Then, as now, there was a tendency for the US to use the Philippines as a stalking horse. It was, as Dening said, 'very weak at the knees', and the Americans deceived themselves in believing that their action in the Philippines was seen as a model elsewhere. 'The bald fact is that in conferring independence on the Philippines in 1946, the U.S. made the Philippines change their constitution so that. . . every American citizen would have equal rights with Filipinos in regard to the exploitation of the natural resources of the Philippines!' India considered the Philippines 'little more than a protege of the U.S.', and if the two countries were 'not going to hit it off, it scarcely augured well for regional collaboration.643 The US ambassador in Moscow had noted that the Soviet Union would be happy to find the opposition divided into American and British blocs.644 There was still the risk, as pointed out at the December dinner, that the US would approach the problem, as on many occasions in the past, in parallel rather than jointly. In this case, as Acheson put it, the US would look after Indonesia, the Philippines and Indo-China, with a little to spare for Siam, and the Commonwealth Malaya, Burma and Siam. Franks preferred a joint approach to the whole region.645 That was, indeed, the intention of Colombo. Of course, Baguio went ahead as well as Colombo. The participants included Australia, Ceylon, India, Indonesia, Pakistan, Thailand and the Philippines,646 New Zealand declining, as the US and the UK were not involved,647 rather to the regret of the Americans, who were now more positive about a 'regional coalition'.648 The Indian delegation virtually ruled out any political declaration. Some people, Sir Ramaswami Mudaliar said, seemed to think that 'a political and military alliance

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against all aggression' would mean that everything would be 'smooth and happy' in a 'very unhappy world'. That was 'utterly foreign to our conception of how we can bring about peace in the world'.649 'As expected the conference has done no good', wrote Hibbert at the Foreign Office. 'It seems to have been prevented from doing harm.'650 To some extent, however, the Colombo strategy worked. The US 'looked with favor on the program'.651 The whole approach was, of course, changed by the onset of the Korean war. The British had sought to involve the Americans, but also to keep India involved, the basis, indeed, of the Commonwealth approach. That policy had some success. But the decisive involvement of the US was achieved by the outbreak of the war. Truman interposed the Seventh Fleet between the mainland and Formosa and accelerated aid to the Philippines and to France and the Associated States.652 The application of American strength, intensified with the opening of the Korean war in 1950, was upon a divided Southeast Asia, and divided it further. US policy developed with a view to containing communism, supporting the French but not the Dutch, making security pacts with Thailand and the Philippines, constructing ANZUS and concluding the peace treaty. The Americans saw the Emergency in Malaya as part of a wider struggle. So did the British though, taking account of India, they sought to moderate the political stance of the US in Southeast Asia in general, and still strove to emphasise the economic collaboration that they saw as essential to the security and stability of the region, their essential objectives. Concluding remarks

For Britain Europe was always of prime importance, since that was the source of its security or its insecurity. Yet it drew its sustenance from the rest of the world, and not merely its empire, but from all the countries, sovereign and otherwise, with which it traded or in which it invested. When it was the main European power, and Europe enjoyed primacy in the world, there was in any case rarely a need to choose between the two foci of policy. In twentieth-century crises, choices had to be made: the resources of the world had to be utilised to ensure survival at home. After the Second World War, the British again had to balance their interests. Their desire for close relations with their western European neighbours and with the US affected their policies towards the rest of the world in general, and towards Southeast Asia in particular. There they sought to retain a European presence. Their experience in China and in India and perhaps, too, their earlier treatment of the settler dominions, led them to believe that this must be based on coming

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to terms with nationalism: after the war they did not believe that they could maintain or restore a merely colonial stance, often already seen as inadequate pre-war. Their wartime plans reflected this conclusion. Often they turned out to be wildly astray so far as the realities of time and place were concerned. But they were quick to adapt their plans, believing, generally quite reasonably, that the changes were consistent with their overall aim. For such an approach also to be consistent with their European policies, it was desirable that the other colonial powers in Southeast Asia, France and the Netherlands, should follow a similar line. Otherwise the Southeast Asian countries would find Britain's own policy lacked credibility, while India, the source of much of Britain's military force, would become more difficult to handle. To persuade the French and the Dutch to adopt the style of policy Britain favoured was, however, difficult. Those countries had no tradition of colonial devolution. They were anxious to restore their fortunes after being overrun by the Germans or coming to terms with them. Above all, however, their governments were so divided that they found it difficult to put together a constructive and forward-looking policy and to carry it through, and tended to fall back on formulae and whiffs of grapeshot. The difficulties the British faced in Malaya after 1948, and the weakness of the newly-independent Burman government, did not make it easier to sustain the policy of a European-Asian collaboration that Britain had hoped would apply across the region. Yet the development of the Cold War, and the growing success of the Chinese communists, made it more desirable. The British hoped to make Southeast Asia a zone of peace and prosperity in itself, an exemplar to other regions too. The Americans had no such concern to sustain European presence in Southeast Asia, nor any sense of Southeast Asia as a region. Their policy was influenced in Thailand by a distrust of British imperialism, in the Philippines by a concern for their own interests, not well coordinated with their commitment to setting up an independent republic. Increasingly, the British came to realise that American help was needed, not only in Europe but in the Middle East and in Southeast Asia as well. That help was in part argued for, and in sustantial part secured, as a result of the onset of the Cold War. Britain's imperial policy had long reflected a distrust of international communism, soundly based ever since the adoption of Lenin's thesis on colonial and undeveloped countries. Its policy towards nationalism was developed partly to outflank communism. It was a view the Americans shared, but it did not control their policy. What came to count was an anti-communism that seemed to the British impatient and unsubtle. Their hope had been to unite the US resources and British diplomacy, but that was too ambitious an aim.

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Paradoxically their problems with Burma now offered the British an opportunity, as their earlier policy in Burma had seemed to offer an example. India had displayed an interest in the fate of Indonesia but was also necessarily concerned with the fate of neighbouring Burma. Involving India in handling the problems of Burma not only involved the Commonwealth in Southeast Asia. It gave the British some leverage in dealing with the US and some opportunity for shaping its policies. The impact of the Korean war did not dislodge a British approach to Southeast Asia that acknowledged nationalism and regionalism and yet involved India as a source for British policy in the post-imperial period as it had been in the imperial. British diplomacy was resourceful, though Britain lacked resources. In one sense the British looked back. Colonial powers never relied solely on force and always needed collaborators. That was an approach the British shared with the French and the Dutch. Their post-war adaptation of it was, however, far more extensive. Their definition of a collaborator was broader, and the criteria for resort to force more realistic. Even so they believed that the Europeans could and should remain in Southeast Asia in the long term, working with new regimes which needed their help. That approach might still be validated from a yet more distant perspective. The region was to be deeply involved in the struggles of the Cold War, in particular through the conflict in Vietnam. Now it has emerged as a zone of peace, of stability, and of prosperity. To that the albeit painful exertion of US power contributed, as did the investment of the Japanese. But the outcome owes something to the British statesmanship of the post-war period, which conceived of and worked towards a region in which East and West collaborated.

Personalia

Amery Leopold S. Amery (1873-1955). First Lord of the Admiralty, 1922-4; Secretary of State for the Colonies, 1924-9; for Dominion Affairs, 1925-9; for India and Burma, 1940-5. Attlee Clement Attlee, later Lord Attlee (1883-1967). Leader of the Opposition, 1935-40, 1951-5. Lord Privy Seal, 1940-2; Lord President of the Council and Deputy Prime Minister, 1943-5; Prime Minister, 1945-51. Aung San (1915-1947). Editor, Students' Union magazine, University of Rangoon, 1935-6. Joined Dobhama Asi-ayone ('We Burmese' Organisation), 1938. Chief of Staff, Burma Independence Army, 1941. Founded Anti-Fascist Organisation, 1944. Deputy Chairman, Executive Council, September 1946. Assassinated, July 1947. Bennett (Sir) John Cecil Sterndale Bennett (1895-1969). Entered Foreign Office, 1920. Head of Far Eastern Department, 1940-2, 1944-6; Minister in Sofia, 1947-9; Deputy Commissioner-General in South-East Asia, 1950-3. Bevin Ernest Bevin (1881-1951). General Secretary of the Transport and General Workers' Union, 1921-40. Minister of Labour and National Service, 1940-5. Foreign Secretary, 1945-51. Chifley Joseph Benedict Chifley (1885-1951). Treasurer of the Commonwealth of Australia, 1941-9; Minister for Post-War Reconstruction, 1942-5; Prime Minister, 1945-9. Clarke (Henry) Ashley Clarke (1903-1994). Entered Foreign Office, 1925. Minister to Lisbon and to Paris and Deputy Under-Secretary. Ambassador to Italy, 1953-62. Cooper Duff Cooper, later Viscount Norwich (1890-1954). Secretary of State for War, 1935-7; First Lord of the Admiralty, 1937-8; Minister of Information, 1940-1; Minister of State Far East, 1941-2; Ambassador to France, 1944-7. Cripps Sir Stafford Cripps (1889-1952). Ambassador in Moscow, 1940-2; Minister of Aircraft Production, 1942-5; President of the Board of Trade, 1945-7; Chancellor of the Exchequer, 1947-50. Dening (Maberly) Esler Dening (1897-1977). Enlisted in Australian Imperial Forces, 1915. Joined Consular Service, 1920. Appointed to Foreign Office, 1938. Chief Political Adviser to SACSEA, 1943-6. Assistant Under-Secretary of State, 1946-50. Ambassador to Japan, 1952-7. 413

414

PERSONALIA

Dorman-Smith Sir Reginald Hugh Dorman-Smith (1899-1977). President, National Farmers Union, 1936-7. Minister of Agriculture and Fisheries, 1939-40. Governor of Burma, 1941-6. Eden Anthony Eden, later Lord Avon (1897-1977). Foreign Secretary, 1935-8; 1940-5; 1951-5. Prime Minister, 1955-6. Hatta Mohammed Hatta (1902-80). Doctorandus, Rotterdam Commerce School, 1932. A leader of PNI-Baru, 1932-4. Exiled to Boven Digul, 1934. Adviser to Japanese administration, 1942-5. Vice-President of the Republic of Indonesia, 1945-56, also Prime Minister and Minister of Defence, 1948-9. Killearn Lord Killearn (Sir Miles Lampson) (1880-1964). Entered Foreign Office, 1903. Minister to China, 1926-33. Ambassador to Egypt, 1936-46. Special Commissioner in South-East Asia, 1946-8. MacDonald Malcolm MacDonald (1901-1981). Secretary for Dominion Affairs, 1935-8, 1938-9; for the Colonies, 1938-40. High Commissioner in Canada, 1941-6; Governor-General Malaya and Borneo, 1946-8; Special Commissioner in South-East Asia, 1948-55. High Commissioner in India, 1955-60. Governor-General of Kenya, 1963-4. MacDougall (Sir) Raibeart MacDougall (1892-1949). Entered I.C.S., 1915. Counsellor to the Governor of Burma, 1941-7. Mountbatten Admiral Lord Louis Mountbatten, later Earl Mountbatten of Burma (1900-1979). Chief of Combined Operations, 1942-3. Supreme Allied Commander, South-East Asia, 1943-6. Viceroy of India, March-August 1947. First Sea Lord, 1955-9. Chairman, Chiefs of Staff, 1959-65. Assassinated 1979. Pibun Luang Pibun Songkram (1897-1964). Thai Minister of Defence, 1934-41; Prime Minister, 1938-44; Army Commander, 1939-44; Minister of Foreign Affairs, 1939-41; Prime Minister, 1948-57. Sjahrir Sutan Sjahrir (1909-1966). Studied in The Netherlands, 1929-31. Involved in PNI-Baru and exiled to Boven Digul, 1934. Stayed in Cipanas, West Java, during Japanese occupation, involved in underground activities. Prime Minister, Republic of Indonesia, November 1945-June 1947. Headed Partai Sosialis Indonesia. Jailed 1962. Sjarifuddin Amir Sjarifuddin (1907-48). Educated in The Netherlands. Active in Partindo. Founded Gerindo. Imprisoned by the Japanese, 1943. Minister of Information, and later Defence, in Sjahrir cabinets. Prime Minister, July 1947-January 1948. Identified himself as a communist, 1948. Killed December. Sukarno Sukarno (1901-1970). Son of primary school teacher in Bali. Graduated Ingenieur, Bandung, 1926. Chairman, PNI. Tried and imprisoned, 1929-31. Exiled to Flores, 1933. Chairman, Central Advisory Committee in occupied Java, 1943. President, Republic of Indonesia, 1945-68. Van Mook Hubertus Johannes van Mook (1894-1965). Educated in Surabaya and in The Netherlands. Director of Economic Affairs, 1937. Lt. GovernorGeneral from January 1942, heading Netherlands Indies government-inexile in Australlia. Not appointed Governor-General when the incumbent resigned, October 1945: no one was.

Notes

1 Wartime plans for post-war Southeast Asia 1 Walsh/FS, 26/3/42. RO. 371/31751 [F4969/90/61], Public Record Office [PRO]. 2 q. D. C. Watt, SucceedingJohn Bull, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1984, p. 101. 3 Correlli Barnett, The Lost Victory, Macmillan, London, 1995, p. xiii. 4 q. A. Adamthwaite, 'Britain and the World, 1945-1949: the view from the Foreign Office', in J. Becker and F. Knipping, eds, Power in Europe? de Gruyter, Berlin, NY, 1986, p. 13. 5 Reviewing Michael Blackwell, Clinging to Grandeur, TLS, 11/2/94. 6 V. Rothwell, Britain and the Cold War, Cape, London, 1982, pp. 144-7. 7 G. Warner, 'The Labour Governments and the Unity of Western Europe', in R. Ovendale, ed., The Foreign Policy of the British Labour Governments

1945-1951, Leicester University Press, 1984, p.62. 8 Note, 10/6/42. M/3/1270, India Office Library and Records [IOL]. 9 Draft, n.d. L/PO/236, IOL. 10 WM 111 (42) 3, 12/8. CAB 65/27, PRO. 11 WM 54 (43) 3, 14/4. CAB 65/34. 12 Dorman-Smith to Monteath, ? April 1943. Eur. E. 215/4, IOL. 13 Dorman-Smith to Secretary of State, 28/10. F.O. 643/26. 14 Carson/Peck, 4/11. PREM 4/50/3, PRO. 15 M. Collis, Last and First in Burma, Faber, London, 1956, p. 210. 16 Minute, 5/11. PREM 4/50/5. 17 Minute by Monteath, 2/9. L/PO/238. 18 Tel, 7/9, 52. L/PO/238. 19 Dorman-Smith/Amery, 13/9. Eur. E. 215/6. 20 Dorman-Smith/Amery, 17/10. L/PO/238. 21 Dorman-Smith/PAmery, 30/10. Eur. E. 215/6. 22 Drafts in L/PO/238; Minute, 22/11, ibid. 23 Minute, 23/11. PREM 4/50/3. 24 Hansard, House of Commons, 20/11. 25 Churchill for Chief Whip, 3/12. PREM 4/50/3. 26 WM161 (44) 9, 4/12. CAB 65/44. 27 Amery/Dorman-Smith, 13/12. Eur. E. 215/5. 415

416 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71

NOTES (PAGES 13-25) Dening/Bennett, 20/12, 1289, EO. 371/46326[F129/129/61]. Dening/Bennett, 2/2/45, 1340. EO. 371/46333B [Fl036/169/61]. I (45) 6th, 1/2. CAB 91/3. 1(45) 19, 29/1. CAB 91/4. I (45), 6th as above. Memorandum, 15/3. L/PO/240. WM 58 (45) 5, 4/5. CAB 65/50. Amery/Dorman-Smith, 10/5. Eur. E. 215/7. Minutes, 14/5. EO. 371/46326 [F2991/129/61]. Tel, 15/5, 359. L/PO/239. Tel, 14/5, 169. EO. 371/46326 [F2882/129/61]. Waight/Dorman-Smith, May 1945. R/8/11, IOL. Hansard, Vol 411, No. 85, cols 495-550, 1/6. Times, 2 June. Note, 6/4/45, L/PO/240, included in I (45) 51, 7/4, CAB 91/4. q. C. M. Turnbull, 'British Planning for Post-war Malaya', JSEAS, V, 2 (September 1974), p. 239. q. ibid., p. 242. Braddell, q. A. J. Stockwell, British Policy and Malayan Politics, MBRAS, Kuala Lumpur, 1979, p. 17. Rolf Tanner, A Strong Showing, Steiner, Stuttgart, 1994, p. 59. CMB (44) 3, 14/1/44. CO. 825/43B, PRO. MD, pp. 64-70. Loose papers stuck in CO. 531/24 [92503]. Sir Arthur Blackburn as recorded in Note of discussion at CO., 1/11/43. EO. 371/35910 [F5961/260/61]. Stockwell, pp. 34-6. Reece, The Name of Brooke, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1982, pp. 265-7. Reece, pp. 270 ff. [A. Brooke], The Facts About Sarawak, London and Wisbech, 1946, pp. 6, 69-70. A. L. Moffat, Mongkut, the king of Siam, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1961, p. 124. Josiah Crosby, 'Observations on a Post-War Settlement in South East Asia', International Affairs, XX.3 (July 1944), pp. 357-68. de la Valette/Dening, 10/4/42. EO. 371/31866 [F2878/2878/40]. Minute, 18/5/42. EO. 371/31866 [F3617/2878/40]. Martin/Harvey, 21/5. EO. 371/31867 [F4097/2879/40]. Reuter comm. received 3/3/43. EO. 371/35983 [F1219/1219/40]. Daily Telegraph, 13/3/43. Martin/Lawford, 22/3/43. EO. 371/35983 [F1516/1219/40]. Memorandum by Young, 8/9; Dening, 31/8. EO. 371/35977 [F4697, 4564/169/40]. Tel, 3/11/43. EO. 371/35978 [F5829/169/40]. Minute, 17/11/43. EO. 371/35978 [F6089/109/40]. WM 1 (44) 8, 3/1/44. CAB 65/41. Draft. EO. 371/41846 [F134/23/40]. Minute. EO. 371/41844 [F881/23/40]. Minutes. EO. 371/41846 [F1334/23/40]. Tel, 17/3/44, 1356. EO. 371/41844 [Fl 398/23/40]. Tel, 17/3/44, 1357. EO. 371/41844 [F1399/23/40]. Tel, 21/3/44, 1424. EO. 371/41844 [F1486/23/40]. Minutes, F1486. EO. 371/41848 [F1599/1599/40]. WP44 (208), 17/4. CAB 66/49.

NOTES (PAGES 25-34) 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113

417

WM (44) 89, 10/7. CAB 65/43. Winant/Eden, 21/10, and reply, 22/11. F.O. 371/41845 [F4969/23/40]. FE(44) 1, 7/11. CAB 96/5. FE(44) 1st, 15/11. CAB 96/5. FE(44) 2nd, 29/11. CAB 96/5. Wall/Young, 23/6/44, and papers attached. F.O. 371/41851 [F3031/ 3031/40]. Minutes of Meeting to discuss Future Policy towards Siamese Rice Industry, 8/9/44. F.O. 371/41851 [F4225/3031/40]. Dening/Bennett, 14/12. F.O. 371/40544 [F540/296/40]. FE(45) 1, 11/1. CAB 96/5. PHP(45) 3 (0) Final, 10/3. F.O. 371/46544 [F1851/296/40]. PHP(45) 3 (0), Revised T of R, 23/3. F.O. 371/48544 [F1851/296/40]. PHP(45) 3 (0), Revised Final, 30/3. CAB 81/46. FE(E) (45) 1, 9/1. F.O. 371/46327 [F232/149/61]. FE(45) 11, 10/3. CAB 96/5. Minute by Bennett, 19/2. F.O. 371/46560 [F1055/738/40]. WP(45) 102, 17/2. CAB 66/62. WM 21(45), 3, 19/2, confidential annexe. CAB 65/21. Minute, 20/2. F.O. 371/46560 [F1084/738/40]. A. Gilchrist, Bangkok Top Secret, Hutchinson, London, 1970, p. 127. Sansom/SEAD, 24/2, and minute. F.O. 371/46560 [F1449/738/40]. Telegram from Dening, 26/2, 75. F.O. 371/46560 [F1229/738/40]. Aide-memoire, 15/3. FRUS VI, pp. 1254-5. Tel, 16/3/45, 1729. F.O. 371/46560 [Fl709/738/40]. Minute, 21/3. F.O. 371/46560 [F1830/738/40]. Cf Winant/Secretary of State, 21/3, Cable 2908. FRUS VI, pp. 1258-9. Minutes. F.O. 371/46560 [F1845/738/40]. Grew/Winant, 20/3, Cable 2165. FRUS VI, p. 1257. Allison/Bennett, 21/3. F.O. 371/46560 [F1856/738/40]. Conversation, 30/3, F2033. Sansom/Bennett, 23/4. F.O. 371/46561 [F2694/738/40]. Tel, 31/3, 3133. F.O. 371/46560 [F1845/738/40]. WP (45) 249, 13/4. CAB 66/64. WM 49 (45) 5, 23/4. CAB 65/20. FE (45) 20, 25/4. F.O. 371/41544 [F2665/296/40]. Telegram from Brain, 23/5, 187. F.O. 371/46562 [F3161/738/40]. CfJP(45) 107, Final, 8/5. F.O. 371/46544 [F3149/296/40]. COS(45) 24th, 2. CAB 79/33. Minute. F.O. 371/46562 [F3161/738/40]. Telegram, 30/5, 210. F3161. COS(45) 141st, 31/5, 14. CAB 79/34. Telegram, 28/5, 3711. F.O. 371/46562 [F3232/738/40]. Memorandum, 28/5. FRUS VI, pp. 1269-70. JP(45)/143 Final, 25/6. F.O. 371/46562 [F4055/738/40]. COS(45) 162nd, 27/6, 11. CAB 79/35. Cf Gilchrist, p. 196. The proceedings are in CAB 78/33. Aide-memoire, 25/6. FRUS VI, pp. 1272-5. Telegrams from Halifax 25/6, 4411, 4412 and minutes, and reply, 8/7, 7280. F.O. 371/46545 [F3804/296/40]. FE(45) 5th, 13/7. CAB 96/5. JP(45) 170 (Final), 19/7. F.O. 371/46545 [F4620/296/40]. COS(45) 479 (0), 21/7. F.O. 371/46545 [F4542/296/40]. COS(45), 180th, 20/7. CAB 79/36.

418

NOTES (PAGES 34-49)

114 FE (45) 29 Final, 14/7. EO. 371/46545 [F4542/296/40]. 115 Memorandum, 23/7. F.O. 371/46545 [F4619/296/40]. Telegrams, 21/7, 5102, 5103. F.O. 371/46568 [F4460/1349/40]. 116 ORC(45) 2nd, 24/7, 1. F.O. 371/50906 [U5725/5342/70]. 117 Bennett/Balfour, 12/8. F4298. 118 Minutes. F.O. 371/46545 [F4787/296/40]. 119 Tel, 27/7, 319. F.O. 371/46545 [F4574/296/40]. 120 Gilchrist, p. 192. 121 E. R. Drachman, United States Policy Towards Vietnam, 1940-1945, Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, Rutherford, 1970, pp. 43ff. 122 PHP(44) 2(O), Final, 22/1. CAB 81/45. 123 WP(44) 111, 16/2. F.O. 371/41723 [F980/66/61]. 124 q. Allan B. Cole, Conflict in Indo-China, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1956, p. 47. 125 q. Cole, p. 48. 126 q. W. R. Louis, Imperialism at Bay, Clarendon, Oxford, 1977, p. 552. 127 Ag Secretary of State/Hurley, 2/6, Cable 843. FRUS VI, p. 312. 128 Cole, pp. 5-6. 129 q. P. M. Dunn, 'An interpretation of documentary and oral primary source materials for the period September 1945 until May 1946 in the Region of Cochin China and Southern Annam', PhD thesis, SOAS, 1979, pp. 91-2n. 130 Robert K. Wolthuis, 'United States foreign policy towards the Netherlands Indies, 1937-1945', PhD thesis, Johns Hopkins University, 1968, p. 366. 131 RGP, pp. 729 ff. 132 RGP, pp. 727-9. 133 Conversation, 12/6/42. F.O. 371/31751 [F4533/90/61]. RGP, pp. 640-1. MD, p. 8. 134 Minutes, 23, 23, 26, 27/6. F4533: all but the last in RGP, pp. 641-2. 135 See N. Tarling, Britain, Southeast Asia, and the Onset of the Pacific War, Cambridge University Press, 1996, pp. 304—05. 136 Telegram, 11/1/43, 191. F.O. 371/35910 [F260/260/61]. 137 Halifax/Eden, 22/1/43. F.O. 371/35910 [F6673/260/61]. 138 Minute, 5/12. F6673. 139 Minute, 6/12. F6673. 140 Eden/Stanley, 27/12. F6673. 141 Stanley/Eden, 6/1/44, secret. F.O. 371/41726 [F126/126/61]. 142 Fireside chat, 23/2/42. F. D. Roosevelt, Public Papers and Addresses, ed. S. I. Rosenmans, Harpers, New York, 1950, XI, p. 115. 143 q. C. W. Squire, 'Britain and the transfer of power in Indonesia 1945-46', PhD thesis, SOAS, 1979 [?] p. 27. 144 FE (44) 9, 24/11/44. CAB 96/5. 145 Sansom/Dept, 8/3/45, and minute, 22/3. F.O. 371/46463 [F1622/ 1127/23]. 146 Louis, pp. 212ff, 315, 471 ff. 147 Report by the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, 29/10/41. WP(41) 286. CAB 66/20. 148 WM(41) 127th, 12/12, 2. CAB 65/20. 149 Minute, 10/10/41. F.O. 371/27856 [F13798/6887/61]. 150 Memorandum, 8/6/45. F.O. 371/46328 [F3943/149/61]. 151 Memorandum, 26/6/45. F.O. 371/46328 [F3944/149/61 ]. MD, pp. 103-6. 152 Minutes. F3944. 153 Minute by Bourdillon, 27/6. CO. 273/677/50908.

NOTES (PAGES 50-59) 154 155 156 157

419

Minute, 7/8. ibid. Mountbatten/Stanley, 18/6, and minute, 30/6. CO. 537/1547. Minutes, ibid. Minute by Gater, 11/8. CO. 273/677/50908. 2 Southeast Asia after the Japanese surrender

1 2 3 4 5 6

7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

q. V. Rothwell, Britain and the Cold War 1941-1947, Cape, London, 1982, p. 414. q. John Kent, 'Bevin's Imperialism and the Idea of Euro-Africa, 1945-49', in M. S. Dockrill and John W. Young, eds, British Foreign Policy, 1945-56, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1989, p. 50. ibid., p. 51. Fraser Harbutt, The Iron Curtain, Oxford University Press, New York, 1986, pp. 186-7. Rothwell, p. 260. q. John L. Gaddis, The United States and the Origins of the Cold War 1941-194 7,

Columbia University Press, Ithaca, NY, 1972, p. 302. q. John Zametica, 'Three Letters to Bevin', in Zametica, ed., British Officials and British Foreign Policy 1945-50, Leicester University Press, 1990, p. 78. ibid., p. 77. Stein Tjzmnesson, The Vietnamese Revolution of 1945, IPRI, Oslo and Sage, London, 1991, p. 364. S. W. Kirby, The War against Japan, HMSO, London, 1969, V, p. 230. q. P. Dunn, 'An interpretation of documentary and oral source materials . . .', PhD thesis, SOAS, London, 1979, p. 345. FE (O) (40) 52, 16/4/46, enclosing draft Memorandum, British Foreign Policy in the Far East, 31/12/45. CAB 134/280. q. Rothwell, p. 252. Bovenschen/Sargent, 21/8. F.O. 371/46238 [F5598/149/61]. Minute, 24/8. ibid. Dening/Bennett, 2/8, 1691. F.O. 371/46434 [F5022/47/23]. Jacob/Dixon, 13/9, and draft. F.O. 371/54020 [F5385/333/61]. Minutes, 19/9, 2/4/46. F5385. Dening/Bennett, 18/9. F.O. 371/46434 [F7496/47/23]. Minutes, 9, 12/10, n.d. F.O. 371/46434 [F8195/47/23]. Gen. 97/lst, 18/10. CAB 78/39. Minute, 2/11. F.O. 371/46329 [F5685/149/61]. Machtig/Sargent, 21/8. F.O. 371/46329 [F5684/149/61]. Monteath/Sargent, 16/8. F.O. 371/46328 [F5351/149/61]. Minute probably by Gent. CO. 273/677/50908. Minute, 17/11. ibid. Gen 101/lst, 19/11. CAB 78/39. Gen 101/2nd, 18/12. CAB 78/39. Minute, 21/12. CO. 273/677/50908/1. Gater/Cadogan, 17/1. ibid. Minute, 27/1. F.O. 371/53974 [F1069/36/61]. Minute, 13/10. CO. 537/1547. Memorandum, 12/45. ibid. Minute, 17, 18/12. ibid. Telegram, 4/1, 3126. CO. 537/1568. Telegram, 5/1, 43. F.O. 371/54017 [F333/333/61].

420 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84

NOTES (PAGES 59-70) Minute, 28/1. CO. 537/1568. Telegram, 15/1. F.O. 371/54017 [F822/333/51]. Minute, 27/1. F822. Telegrams, 2/2, 180, 181. F.O. 371/54017 [F2036/333/61]. Telegram, 7/2, 202. F.O. 371/54017 [F2037/333/61]. CM (46) 14th, 11/2, 2. CAB 128/5. Minute, 6/4. F.O. 371/54020 [F6079/333/61]. Minute by Sargent, 14/2. F.O. 371/54017 [F2478/333/61]. The SEAF files are in CAB 134/ 677-9. CM (46) 16th, 18/2, 2. CAB 128/5. Note of interview, 22/2. CO. 537/1568. Minute by Allen, 15/3. F.O. 371/54019 [F3747/333/61]. Telegram, 25/4, 314. F.O. 371/54020 [F6352/333/61]. Telegram, 25/4, 315. F.O. 371/54020 [F6353/333/61]. N. Mansergh, Survey of British Commonwealth Affairs, London, Oxford University Press, 1958, p. 324ff. Minute by Allen, 4/5. F.O. 371/54020 [F6353/333/61]. PMM(46) 1st, 23/4. AFPD, p. 326. SAC 231st, 28/3/45. W.O. 172/1756, PRO. SEACOS 344, 27/3. W.O. 172/1756. I (45) 15th, 27/3, Appendix. CAB 91/3. 6th Misc, 2/4. W.O. 172/1757. COSSEA 225, 30/3. M/4/1320, IOL. SAC's Draft, 3/4. W.O. 172/1757. HQ SACSEA/CinC ALFSEA, 2/6. W.O. 172/1766. Personal Diary, 16/6. W.O. 172/1768. SEACOS 400, 16/5. CAB 91/4. Cf Slim, Defeat into Victory, pp. 516-19. Telegram, 18/3, 13. CAB 91/4. SEACOS 402, 18/5, including SAC 10062, s.d., in I (45) 82, 21/5. CAB 91/4. Telegram, 20/5, 16. CAB 91/4. Minutes, 19, 25/5. F.O. 371/46334/B [F3019/169/61]. Telegram, 22/5, 25. M/4/1320. Amery/Dorman-Smith, 24/5. Eur.E. 215/7. 8th Misc, 30/5. W.O. 172/1766; L/PO/241. Telegram, 1/6, 27. L/PO/1766; M/4/1320; R/8/20. Speech, 20/6. F.O. 643/17; I (45) 88, Annex II, CAB 91/4; W.O. 172/1769. Resolution, 12/8. R/8/20. HQCAS(B), Weekly Intelligence Survey, No. 94, 25/8. M/4/1239. Telegram, 25/8. R/8/30. SAC 275th, 28/8. W.O. 172/1779. Telegram, 9/8. 629. M/4/1239. Eur.E 215/8. Telegram, 20/8. ibid. Telegram, 24/8, 19451. E215/14, repeated, 27/8, 703. M/4/1239. Mountbatten/Dorman-Smith, 26/8, SCS/1702/D. W.O. 172/1778; Eur.E. 215/14. Telegram, 27/8, 702. M/4/1239; Eur.E 215/25. Personal Minute, 4/9. SAC (45) 154. W.O. 172/1781; M/4/1458. 21st Misc, 7/9 [really 5/9]. W.O. 172/1781; M/4/1458. Dorman-Smith/Pethick-Lawrence, 10/9. Eur. E. 215/8. Telegram, 23/10, 6. Eur. E. 215/7. Pethick-Lawrence/Dorman-Smith, 26/10. Eur.E. 215/7.

NOTES (PAGES 70-78) 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128

421

ibid. Mountbatten/Dorman-Smith, 25/10, SC5/2167/5. Eur. E. 215/14. Wavell/Pethick-Lawrence, 1/10, 36, in Transfer, VI, p. 306. Telegram, 28/10/45, 1235. M/4/2825. CP(45) 258, 29/10. CAB 129/4. CM (45) 47th, 30/10. CAB 128/1. Dorman-Smith to Pethick-Lawrence, 19/12. Eur. E. 215/8. Eur. E. 362/5, p. 47. Dorman-Smith/Pethick-Lawrence, 30/12. Eur. E. 215/8. Draft paragraph cut out of Dorman-Smith/? Pethick-Lawrence, 16/12. Eur. E. 215/8. Directive, 4/10. M/5/91. C in C India/SACSEA, 18/10, and enclosure. M/5/91. Telegram, 11/11. M/5/91. Telegram, 11/11, 69. M/4/2589. Memorandum, 29/11. M/5/91. Appreciation, 28/11. Transfer, VL, pp. 576-84. Wavell/Pethick-Lawrence, 27/11, 44. Transfer, VI, pp. 554-5. Telegram, 24/12. M/5/91. Minute by Laithwaite and draft, 4/1/46. M/5/91. Telegram, 17/1, 1155. Transfer, VI, p. 808. Telegram, 18/1. M/5/91. Telegram, 19/1, pte. M/5/91. Narratives. Eur. E. 215/32. Collis, p. 271. Narratives. Eur. E. 215/32. Telegram, 25/3, 1273. M/5/102. Telegram, 26/3, 9965. M/5/102. Dorman-Smith/Monteath, 5/4. R/8/20. Dorman-Smith/?, 2/4. Eur. E. 215/10. Telegram, 13/4, 442; Telegram, 15/4, 1638. M/5/102. Telegram, 18/4, Index 19, 20. M/5/102. Transfer, VII, pp. 302, 303. Narrative. Eur. E. 215/32. ALFSEA telegram, 7/5, 7G01, Enc. 2 to Annex I, COS (46) 72nd, 8/5, 2. CAB 79/48. COS (46) 72nd, 8/5. CAB 79/48. Annex I as above. Minute by Monteath, 9/5. M/5/102. Telegram, 7/5, 29. M/5/102. PM/S of S, 7/5, T 206/40. PREM 8/143. Minute, 5/6. M/5/102. Mountbatten/Rance, 5/8. H. Tinker, ed., Burma: The Struggle for Independence 1944-1948, HMSO, London, 1983,1, p. 934. P. Dennis, Troubled Days of Peace, Manchester University Press, 1987, pp. 13-14. David Marr, Vietnam 1945. The Quest for Power, Berkeley, University of California Press, 1995, pp. 533-7. S. T0nnesson, The Vietnamese Revolution of 1945, Oslo and London, 1991, pp. 380-2, 387-8. Dunn, thesis, p. 246. 13/8/45. S. W. Kirby, The War against Japan, HMSO, London, 1969, V, pp. 228-30. ibid., p. 229. Dunn, pp. 246-7.

422 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174

NOTES (PAGES 78-85) Dennis, p. 23. Dunn, p. 248. ibid, p. 246. Tjzmnesson, pp. 367-9. ibid., pp. 372-3. Telegram, 9/9, 470. EO. 371/46308 [F6636/11/61]. Dunn, pp. 250-2; F. S. V. Donnison, British Military Administration in the Far East 1943-46, HMSO, London, 1956, p. 406. Dunn, p. 281. Dunn, p. 275. Telegram, 19/9, 503. F7160. Dunn, p. 296. Telegram, 19/9, 506. F7161. Minute, 20/9. F7161. Cadogan/Price, 25/9. F7161. COS (45) 589 (O), 25/9. CAB 80/97. Dunn, pp. 299-300, 302-3. Dunn, pp. 305, 307. Dunn, pp. 310-11. q. Dunn, p. 328. Dunn, p. 338. Mounsell, q. Dunn, p. 339. Dunn, p. 346. Dunn, pp. 354-5, 391. Report by Brain, 27/9, 1. F.O. 371/46309 [F8420/11/61]. SAC 31st Misc. Dunn, pp. 391ff. Dunn, p. 394. Dunn, pp. 396-7. q. Dennis, p. 65. q. Dunn, p. 420. 5/9, lapsus calami. q. Dunn, pp. 522-3n. Cf Harvey's statement at D.O. (45) 7th, 3/10, 2. CAB 69/7. Minute, 4/10. F.O. 371/46309 [F8165/11/61]. q. P. Ziegler, Mountbatten, Collins, London, 1985, p. 332. Slim/CIGS, 6/10, Do No CC/2. COS (45) 607 (0), 9/10. F.O. 371/46309 [F8661/11/61]. CAB 80/97. Dunn, pp. 411-12. Dunn, pp. 407-10. Dunn, p. 413. Dunn, pp. 414-15. q. Dunn, pp. 461-2. q. Dunn, p. 596. Dunn, p. 656. Dunn, pp. 668ff. John Saville, The Politics of Continuity, Verso, London and New York, 1993, p. 204. Dunn, p. 670. Lin Hua, 'The Chinese Occupation of Northern Vietnam, 1945-1946', in H. Antlov and S. T^nnesson, eds, Imperial Policy and Southeast Asian Nationalism 1930-1957, Curzon, Richmond, 1995, p. 162. A. B. Cole, Conflict in Indo-China, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1956, pp. 40-41. Telegram, 8/3/46, 61. F.O. 371/53960 [F3627/8/61].

NOTES (PAGES 85-91)

423

175 Minute, 12/3. F3627. 176 Telegram, 11/3, 94 Saving. F.O. 371/53960 [F3753/8/61]. 177 Telegram from Meiklereid, 18/3, 72; Telegram to Paris, 27/3, 660. F.O. 371/53960 [F4100/8/61]. 178 Telegram, 2/4, 139 Saving; Minute by Wilson-Young, 8/4. F.O. 371/53962 [F5145/8/61]. 179 Conversation, 21/3. F.O. 371/53961 [F4444/8/61]. 180 Minute, 28/3. F4444. 181 Report in desp. 44. 182 Meiklereid/Bevin, 11/4, 44. F.O. 371/53963 [F6337/8/61]. 183 Minutes. F6337. 184 FE (O) (46) 52, 16/4/46, enclosing British Foreign Policy in the Far East, 31/12/45. CAB 134/280; F.O. 371/54052 [F6208/2129/61], p.27. 185 B. R. O'G. Anderson, Jav a in a Time of Revolution, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1972, pp. 81-82; A. J. S. Reid, The Indonesian National Revolution 1945-1950, Longman, Hawthorn, 1974, pp. 27-28. 186 Idrus Nasir Djajadiningrat, The Beginnings of the Indonesian Dutch Negotiations and the Hoge Veluwe Talks, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1958, pp. 17-18. Dennis, pp. 75-77. 187 C. W. Squire, 'Britain and the Transfer of Power in Indonesia 1945-46', PhD thesis, SOAS, University of London, n.d., [?1979], pp. 51-53. 188 Anton Lucas, 'The Tiga Dae rah Affair: Social Revolution or Rebellion', in Audrey Kahin, ed., Regional Dynamics of the Indonesian Revolution, University

of Hawaii Press, Honolulu, 1985, p. 41. 189 Robert Cribb, 'A Revolution Delayed: the Indonesian Republic and the Netherlands Indies, August-November 1945', Australian Journal of Politics and History, XXXII (1986), p. 77. 190 Squire, pp. 55-56. 191 Memorandum, 3/9. RGP 36, p. 82. 192 Telegram, 4?/9. RGP 36, p. 91; Bland/Van Kleffens, 17/9. RGP 36, pp. 110-11. 193 Van Kleffens/Bland, 20/9, RGP 36, pp. 148-9. 194 Squire, p. 62. 195 Squire, pp. 72-5. 196 Reuter, 28/9. Robert J. McMahon, Colonialism and Cold War, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1981, p. 87. 197 Tel ex Viceroy, 1/10, 16963. F.O. 371/46392 [F7756/6398/61]. 198 Stuart H. Drummond, 'Britain's Involvement in Indonesia 1945-63', PhD thesis, Southampton University, 1979, p. 38. 199 q. Van Mook/Embassy, 29/9. RGP 36, pp. 190-1. 200 Cf. Van der Plas' report, n.d. RGP 36, pp. 230-1. 201 Van Mook/Mountbatten, 29/9. RGP 36, p. 192. 202 Meeting, 30/9. RGP 36, p. 199. 203 Wm. H. Frederick, 'The man who knew too much', in Antlov and T^nnesson, pp. 54—55. 204 Van Mook/Mountbatten, 30/9. RGP 36, p. 193. 205 Telegram, 30/9, 555. F.O. 371/46392 [F7649/6398/61]. 206 Meeting, 30/9. RGP 36, p.200. 207 q. Squire, pp. 76-7. 208 Telegram, 1/10, 634. F.O. 371/46392 [F7649/6398/61]. 209 Minutes, 29/9. F.O. 371/46392 [F7656/6398/61]. 210 JP (45) 265 (Final), 30/9. CAB 84/76.

424 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221

NOTES (PAGES 91-96)

Telegram, 2/10, 568. EO. 371/46392 [F7845/6398/61]. COS (45) 607(0), 9/10. CAB 80/97. Minute, 5/10. F7845. Minutes, 6/10. F7845. SEACOS 504, 5/10. RGP 36, pp. 251-3. JP (45) 268 Final, 8/10. CAB 84/76. COS (45) 605 (0), 9/10. CAB 80/97. Squire, pp. 94-5. Brief for SofS, 10/10. EO. 371/46393 [F8204/6398/61]. D.O. (45) 8th, 10/10. CAB 69/7. SAC 34th Misc, 10/10. EO. 371/46395 [F8659/6398/61], also W.O. 172/1787. Ex, Personal Diary, 10/10 ibid. RGP 36, pp. 300-1. 222 SEACOS 511, 11/10. EO. 371/46393 [F8305/6398/61]. RGP 36, pp. 336-9. 223 Telegram, 11/10, 599. F.O. 371/46393 [F8219/6398/61]. 224 Minutes, n.d. F8219. 225 SEACOS 511, 11/10. 226 COS (45) 250th, 15/10, 10. CAB 79/40. 227 COS (45), 251st, 15/10. CAB 79/40. 228 Cf Squire, pp. 95-7, 107. 229 Record of conversation, 15/10. PREM 8/71. Telegram, 15/10, 214. F.O. 371/46393 [F8305/6398/61]. 230 D.O. (45) 9th, 15/10. CAB 69/7. 231 Telegram from SACSEA, 16/10, 25506. PREM 8/7. 232 Telegram, 16/10, 736. F8305. 233 HofC 414, 17/10. Hansard, cols. 1152-3. Telegram, 17/10, 224. F.O. 371/46397 [F9270/6398/61]. 234 Statement, 23/10. RGP 36, pp. 439-41. 235 Conversation, 25/10. F.O. 371/46396 [F8968/6398/61]. 236 Telegram, 25/10, 18. F.O. 371/46396 [F9031/6398/61]. 237 Oey Hong Lee, War and Diplomacy in Indonesia 1945-1950, James Cook University, Townsville, 1981, p. 41. 238 Anderson, pp. 164-6. Reid, pp. 52-53. William H. Frederick, Visions and Heat. The Making of the Indonesian Revolution, Ohio University Press, Athens, 1989, pp. 278-9. 239 Squire, pp. 122-3. 240 Rudolf Mrazek, Sjahrir. Politics and Exile in Indonesia, Cornell University SEAP, Ithaca, 1994, p. 290. 241 Sjahrir, Our Struggle, Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, Ithaca, 1968, pp. 21-22,24-25, 31. 242 M. Rose, Indonesia Free, Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, Ithaca, 1987, p. 130. 243 Mrazek, p. 290. 244 RGP 37, pp. 98-107. 245 Drummond, p. 59. 246 SEACOS 553, 21/11. F.O. 371/46402 [F10459/6398/61]. 247 JP (45) 297 (Final), 25/11. CAB 84/77. 248 COS (45) 276th, 26/11, Item 5. CAB 79/41. 249 JP (45) 298, Final, 2/12. CAB 84/77. 250 JP (45) 303, Final, 4/12. CAB 84/77. 251 COS (45) 281st, 7/12. CAB 79/42. 252 D.O. (45) 17th, 12/12. CAB 69/7.

NOTES (PAGES 96-100)

425

253 16/12. RGP 37, p. 365. 254 Telegram, 31/10, 374. F.O. 371/46397 [F9294/6398/61]. AFPD VIII, pp. 552-3. 255 SEACOS 538, 5/11. RGP 36, pp. 527-30. 256 Alan Rix, ed. Intermittent Diplomat, Melbourne University Press, 1988, p. 236; Ball/Burton, 8/11, Cable 3. AFPD VIII, pp. 582-3. 257 Memorandum of Conversation, 10/10. FRUS 1945 VI, pp. 1163-4. 258 Rix, p. 237. 259 D.O. (45) 14th, 16/11. CAB 69/7. 260 RGP 36, pp. 399-400; Memorandum by Vincent, 22/10. FRUS VI, pp. 1167-8; RGP 36, pp. 425-6. Telegram to Dening, 27/10, 29. F.O. 371/46396 [F8902/6398/61]. 261 Memorandum, 8/11. FRUS VI, pp. 1170-1. 262 SofS/Winant, 20/11, Cable 10147. FRUS VI, p. 1173; Statement, communicated by Allison, 24/11/45. F.O. 371/46402 [F10466/6398/61]. 263 Minutes, 27/11. Telegram 3/12, 12136. F10466. 264 D.O. (45) 15th, 7/12. CAB 69/7. 265 Minute by Bennett, 10/12. F.O. 371/53709 [F154/1/161]. 266 Squire, pp. 143-4. 267 FRUS VI, pp. 1182-3. Robert J. McMahon, 'Anglo-American Diplomacy and the Reoccupation of the Netherlands East Indies', Diplomatic History, 2, 1 (Winter 1978), pp. 21-22. 268 Squire, pp. 142, 152. 269 Yong Mun Cheong, H. J. van Mook and Indonesian Independence, Nijhoff, The Hague, 1982, pp. 66-67. 270 ibid., p. 68. 271 Memorandum, 27/12. F.O. 371/46409 [F12451/6398/61]. 272 Record of a meeting, 27/12. F.O. 371/55709 [F301/1/61]. RGP 37, pp. 453-60. Proposal, RGP 37, pp. 460-4. 273 Van Mook/Christison, 16/11. RGP 37, p. 84. 274 Communique, 28/12. F.O. 371/53769 [F82/1/61]; RGP 37, pp. 468-9; FRUS VI, pp. 1188-9. 275 Squire, pp. 171-2. 276 Ton That Thien, India and South East Asia 1947-1960, Droz, Geneva, 1963, p. 89. 277 Telegram, 17/10, 1812-S. Transfer,VL, p. 360. 278 Wavell/Pethick-Lawrence, 13/11, 42. Transfer, p. 479. 279 Minute by Wilson-Young, 8/1. F.O. 371/53769 [F102/1/61]. 280 Squire, p. 177. 281 Note of a Meeting at No. 10 Downing St, 9/1. RGP 38, p. 78. 282 Bevin/Bland, 18/1/46, 38. F.O. 371/53773 [F12021/1/61]. 283 Bevin/Kerr, 25/1. F.O. 371/53772 [F1089/1/61]; RGP 38, pp. 215-17. 284 Minute by Bennett, 18/1. F.O. 371/53773 [F1180/1/61]. Cf Michiels/Van Roijen, 19/1. RGP 38, pp. 168-9. 285 Oey, p. 64. 286 Proud/Dept, 7/2, Cable 73. AFPD pp. 113-15, at p. 114. 287 Oey, p. 65. 288 Mrazek, pp. 314-15. 289 Oey, p. 67. 290 Telegram, 21/3, 98. F.O. 371/53784 [F4362/1/61]. 291 Djajadiningrat, p. 55. 292 Djajadiningrat, pp. 58-59.

426 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315

316 317 318 319 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334

NOTES (PAGES 101-107) Squire, p. 191. Foreign Office Memorandum, 1/4. F.O. 371/53784 [F4234/1/61]. D.O. (46) 8th, 18/3. CAB 131/1; F.O. 371/53784 [F4359/1/61]. COS (46) 92 (0), 20/3. CAB 80/100. Minute, 21/3. F.O. 371/53784 [F4557/1/61]. Minute, 22/3. F4557. Minute, n.d. F4557. D.O. (46) 44, 26/3. F.O. 371/53787 [F5379/1/61]. D.O. (46) 9th, 27/3, Item 4. CAB 131/1. Memorandum, 28/3. RGP 39, p. 68n; Minute by Bennett, 28/3. F.O. 371/53787 [F5381/1/61]. COS (46), 49th, 28/3. CAB 79/46. COS (46) 53rd, 3/4. CAB 79/46; Sargent/Michiels, 6/4. RGP 39, p. 59. Brief, 11/4. F.O. 371/53788 [F5769/1/61]. Record, 12/4. Draft in F.O. 371/53788 [F8043/1/61]. Also PREM 8/263. Printed version: F.O. 371/53789 [F6102/1/61]; RGP 39, pp. 109-13. Gallman/SofS, 15/4, Cable 4162. FRUS VI, p. 819. Yong,p. 79. Djajadiningrat, pp. 61-77. Drummond, p. 95; cf, too, Squire, pp. 203-4. q. Djajadiningrat, p. 91. ibid., pp. 90-92. Oey, p. 75. H.J. van Mook, The Stakes of Democracy in Southeast Asia, Allen and Unwin, London, 1950, p. 215. M. Rudner, 'Rubber Strategy for Post-War Malaya, 1945-8', Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 1,1 (1970), pp. 29-31; 'Financial Policies in Post-War Malaya', Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, III, 3 (May 1975), p. 325. Cf Halinah Bamadhaj, 'The Impact of the Japanese Occupation of Malaya on Malay Society and Politics (1941-1945)', MA thesis, University of Auckland, 1975, ch. iv. Turnbull, 'Planning for Post-War Malaya', JSEAS, V, 2, p. 250. Telegram, 3/9, 433. MD, pp. 123-4. Lau, p. 103. ibid., pp. 104—9; Simon C. Smith, British Relations with the Malay Rulers from Decentralization to Malayan Independence 1930-1957, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1995, pp. 58-59. Stockwell, pp. 50-60; Lau, p. 109-18; S. Smith, pp. 61-65. Stockwell, p. 70n. q. Lau, p. 124. Lau, p. 125. ibid., p. 125. Turnbull, p. 252. q. Turnbull, p. 253. Lau, pp. 136-7, 139. q. Turnbull, p. 254. Lau, pp. 139-40. Stockwell, p. 61. Lau, p. 144. Stockwell, pp. 70-1. Lau, pp. 127-8.

NOTES (PAGES 107-116)

427

335 V. Purcell, Malaya: Communist or Free'?, Gollancz, London, 1954, p. 48. 336 Lau, pp. 129, 130. 337 R. H. W. Reece, The Name of Brooke, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1982, p. 296. 338 Duncan/Bennett, 22/3/45. F.O. 371/46324 [F1907/91/61]. 339 A. Brooke/SofS, 4/10, A. Brooke, Facts about Sarawak, London and Wisbech, 1946, p. 72. 340 Reece, p. 299. 341 Reece, pp. 309-12. 342 J. C. W. MacBryan/Mrs Noble, 23/5/73. In the possession of the author. 343 Times, 14/2. 344 Bertram Brooke/ Times, 6/2/46, not published. 345 5/1. 346 Reece, pp. 203-4, 210-11. 347 q. Reece, p. 212. 348 Reece, p. 212. 349 K. G. P. Tregonning, Under Chartered Company Rule, University of Malaya Press, Singapore, 1958, p. 222. 350 J. C. Ingram, Economic Change in Thailand 1850-1970, Stanford University Press, Stanford, 1971, pp. 163-5. 351 Minute, 3/8. F.O. 371/46545 [F4944/296/40]. 352 Telegram, 7/8,47. F.O. 371/46545 [4870/296/40]; AFPD VIII, pp. 299-300. 353 Telegram, 11/8, 222. F4870. 354 Minute, 9/8. F4870. 355 FE (O) 1st, 1/8. F.O. 371/46328 [F5211/149/61]. 356 Telegram, 11/8, 341. F.O. 371/46562 [F5019/738/40]. 357 Memorandum, 12/8. F.O. 371/46546 [F5115/296/40]. 358 FE (O) 2nd, 16/8. F.O. 371/46328 [F5380/149/61]. 359 Telegram, 17/8, 361. F.O. 371/46578 [F5226/518/40]. 360 Telegram, 17/8, 364. F.O. 371/46541 [F5290/296/40]. 361 FE (M) 1st, 17/8. CAB 96/9. 362 Telegrams, 18/8, 365, 366. F.O. 371/46546 [F5116/296/40]. 363 Aide-memoire, 20/8. FRUS VI, pp. 1283-4. 364 Minutes, 18, 24/8. F.O. 371/46546 [F5446/296/40]. 365 Telegram, 18/8, 5706, and minute. F.O. 371/46578 [F5353/5180/40]. 366 Minute, 16/8. F.O. 371/46578 [F5214/5181/40]. 367 Minute, 20/8. F5353. 368 Speech, 20/8. F.O. 371/46547 [F5646/296/40]. 369 Telegram, 23/8, 385. F.O. 371/46547 [F5597/296/40]. 370 Telegram, 22/8, 380. F.O. 371/46547 [F5550/296/40]. 371 Aide-memoire 1/9. FRUS VI, pp. 1296-1303. Telegram, 1/9, 5977. F.O. 371/46548 [F6195/296/40]. 372 Gen. 68/6th meeting, 4/9. CAB 78/33. 373 Conversation, 3/9. F.O. 371/46548 [F6285/296/40]. 374 Direck Jayanama, Thailand im Zweiten Weltkrieg, Erdmann, Tubingen and Basel, 1970, p. 173. 375 SEACOS 466, 5/9. F.O. 371/46549 [F6646/296/40]. 376 Telegrams, 5/9, 450, 451, 452, and minute, 6/9. F.O. 371/46548 [F6362/296/40]. COS (45) 216th, 6/9, 9. CAB 79/38. 377 Memorandum, 6/9. FRUS VI, pp. 1306-7. 378 Minute, 7/9. F.O. 371/46549 [F6645/296/40]. 379 SEACOS 470, 7/9. F.O. 371/46549 [F6582/296/40].

428

NOTES (PAGES 116-124)

380 Telegram, 7/9. EO. 371/46549 [F6583/296/40]. 381 Telegrams, 9/9, 467, 468. F.O. 371/46549 [F6589/296/40]. SEACOS 479. F6644. 382 Direck, pp. 229-30. 383 Telegram, 10/9, 531. F.O. 371/46548 [F6195/296/40]. 384 Telegram, 19/9, 509. E O . 371/46550 [F7152/296/40]. 385 Telegram, 24/9, 527. F.O. 371/46551 [F7438/296/40]. 386 Minutes, 25/9. F.O. 371/46552 [F7986/296/40]. 387 Telegram, 27/9, 542. F.O. 371/46551 [F7550/296/40]. 388 Telegram, 29/9, 552. F.O. 371/46551 [F7630/296/40]. 389 Telegram, 30/9, 556. F.O. 371/46552 [F7671/296/40]. 390 Telegram, 30/9, 554. F.O. 371/46569 [F7626/1349/40]. 391 Telegram, 3/10, 645. E O . 371/46569 [F7698/1349/40]. 392 Telegram, 7/10, 671. F.O. 371/46551 [F7630/296/40]. 393 Telegram, 3/10, 565. F.O. 371/46552 [F7852/296/40]. 394 Telegram, 12/10, 710. E O . 371/46552 [F7852/296/40]. 395 Telegram, 10/10, 598, and minute. E O . 371/46552 [F8752/296/40]. 396 Telegram, 12/10, 600. E O . 371/46552 [F8237/296/40]. 397 Direck, p. 232. 398 Telegram, 16/10, 625. F.O. 371/46552 [F8503/296/40]. 399 Minutes and telegram, 23/10, 301. F8503. 400 Telegram, 3/11, 702. EO. 371/46553 [F9439/296/40]. 401 Telegram, 3/11, 698. EO. 371/46553 [F9448/296/40]. 402 Telegram, 11/11, 742, and minutes. F.O. 371/46553 [F9927/296/40]. 403 Minute. F.O. 371/46553 [F9926/296/40]. 404 A-ms, 29/11. FRUS VI, pp. 1377-80, 1381. Telegrams, 30/11, 8008, 8009. F.O. 371/46554 [F10983/296/40]. 405 Telegram, 29/11, 808. F.O. 371/46570 [F10780/296/40]. 406 Telegram, 29/11, F.O. 371/46570 [Fl0990/1349/40]. 407 Telegram, 3/12, 832. F.O. 371/46570 [Fl 1157/1349/40]. 408 Telegram, 30/11, 815. EO. 371/46554[F10929/296/40]. 409 Telegram, 10/12, 857, and attachments. EO. 371/46555 [Fl 1406/296/40]. 410 Telegram, 10/12, 886. F.O. 317/46555 [Fl 1538/296/40]. 411 J. K. Ray, Portrait of Thai Politics, Orient Longmans, New Delhi, 1972, pp. 166-8. 412 Telegram, 11/12. EO. 371/46555 [Fl 1558/296/40]. 413 Telegram, 14/12, 12523. F.O. 371/46556 [Fl 1915/296/40]. 414 Note by R.E Scott, 14/12. EO. 371/46555 [Fl 1710/296/40]. 415 Telegram, 14/12, 920. F11710. 416 Telegram, 15/12, 8366. EO. 371/46555 [Fl 1774/296/40]. 417 Telegram, 17/12, 938. EO. 371/46556 [Fl 1867/296/40]. 418 Telegrams, 18/12, 12685, 12686. EO. 371/46555 [Fl 1774/296/40]. Cf AgSofS/Winant, 13/12, Cable 10783. FRUS VI, pp. 1391-7. 419 Minute, 8/12. F.O. 371/46555 [Fl 1582/296/40]. 420 Wilson-Young to Price, 19/12. EO. 371/46557 [F12158/296/40]. COS(45) 286th, CAB 79/42. 421 COS(45) 287th, 21/12. CAB 79/41. Telegram, 21/12, 12835. F.O. 371/ 46555 [Fl 1774/296/40]. 422 Telegram, 22/12, 8525. F.O. 371/46557 [F12173/296/40]. 423 Telegram, 12/12, 899, and reply, 13/12, 1234. F.O. 371/46571 [Fl 1608/1349/40]. 424 Telegram, 14/12, 923. F.O. 371/46555 [Fl 1682/296/40].

NOTES (PAGES 124-135) 425 426 427 428 429 430 431 432 433 434 435 436 437 438 439 440 441 442 443 444 445 446 447 448 449 450 451 452 453

429

Telegrams, 15/12, 926, 927. EO. 371/46556 [Fl 1778/296/40]. Minute, 20/8. F.O. 371/46545 [F4298/291/40]. Telegram, 1/9, 422. F.O. 371/46548 [F6190/296/40]. Telegram, 10/9, 532. F.O. 371/46548 [F6195/296/40]. Telegram, 17/12, 933. F.O. 371/46556 [Fl 1841/296/40]. Telegram, 22/12, 1330. F.O. 371/46556 [Fl 1868/296/40]. Sanderson/N. Young, 27/12, and minutes. F.O. 371/53838 [F3/3/61]. Pethick-Lawrence/Bevin, 4/1/46, and note. F.O. 371/53838 [F98/3/61]. CP (46) 28, 29/1. CAB 129/6. Smith/Bevin, 6/2. F.O. 371/53840 [F2229/3/61]. Minutes. F.O. 371/53840 [F2348/3/61]. WFS (46) 2nd, 12/2. CAB 134/729. CM(46) 16th, 18/2, 1. CAB 128/5. SEAF (46) 4th, 4/3. CAB 134/677. Memorandum, 1/3, SEAF (46) 11. CAB 134/678. Telegram, 4/3, 412. F.O. 371/53842 [F2982/3/61]. Telegram, 18/3, 202. F4007. Telegram, 19/3, 211. F.O. 371/53847 [F4308/3/61]. Telegram, 26/3, 274. F.O. 371/53848 [F4472/3/61]. Telegram, 28/3, 258. F.O. 371/53850 [F4745/3/61]. Telegram, 22/3, 226. F.O. 371/54359 [F4534/4/40]. Yost/SofS, 9/1, Cable 23. FRUS VIII, p. 982. Yost/SofS, 10/4, Cable 73. FRUS VIII, pp. 987-8. Paul McNutt, q. K. T. Carlson, 'The Twisted Road to Freedom', MA thesis, University of Victoria, 1990, p. 16. G. A. Grunder and W. E. Livezey, The Philippines and the United States, Oklahoma University Press, Norman, 1951, pp. 260ff, 275. Memorandum by Byrnes, 18/4/46. FRUS VIII, p. 874. MacDermot/Eden, 31/5/45, No. 17. F.O. 371/46463 [F3822/1127/23]. Hodsoll/Sansom, 14/5/45. F.O. 371/46463 [F3394/1127/23]. Minute, 9/6/45. F.O. 371/46463 [F3394/1127/23]. HofC cols 777-81ff. 3 The re-establishment of colonial regimes in Southeast Asia

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

R. Ovendale, ed., Foreign Policy of the British Labour Government 1945-51, Leicester University Press, 1984, p.7. R. B. Smith, 'Some contrasts between Burma and Malaya in British Policy in South-East Asia, 1942-6', in R. B. Smith and A. J. Stockwell, eds, British Policy and the Transfer of Power in Asia, SOAS, London, 1988, p. 64. Telegram, 17/6, 12 Saving. F.O. 371/54021 [F9713/333/61]. Minute, 13/6. F.O. 371/54021 [F8998/333/61]. Telegram, 9/7, 1084. F.O. 371/54021 [F9713/333/61]. Telegrams, 30/5, 758; 1/8, 1511. F.O. 371/54022 [Fl 1342/949/61]. Kirby, V, pp. 372-3. Minute, 5/8. F.O. 371/54022 [Fl 1549/333/61]. DO(46) 24th, 7/8. CAB 131/1. Dening/Smith, 18/11. F.O. 371/54046 [F16726/1109/61]; Dening/ Killearn, 20/2. F.O. 371/63518 [F560/56/61]. Minute, 18/11. F16726. Draft, sent as Telegram, 29/6, 63. PREM 8/143. Telegram, 4/7, 48. PREM 8/143.

430 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63

NOTES (PAGES 135-145) Telegram, 11/7, 2815. PREM 8/143. ibid. Nash's recollections. Eur. E. 362/7, p.22. Telegram, 16/7, 53. PREM 8/143. Memorandum, 13/7. Eur. E. 215/39. Ex, airmail letter, 9/8. PREM 8/144. See also Telegram, s.d., 63. M/5/110. Telegram, 7/10, 159. M/4/1805. Minute, 13/8. M/5/110. Memorandum, 13/8; Minute, s.d. M/5/110. ibid. Draft, Suggested Line of Policy. M/5/110. Minute, 16/8, 44/40, ibid. PREM 8/144. Copies in M/4/2593. L/PO/245. Telegram, 16/9, 946. M/4/1805. Telegram, 8/9, 95. M/4/1805. Times, 12/9. Minute, 12/9. M/4/1805. Telegram, 12/9, 102. M/4/1805. Telegram, 16/9, 107. M/4/1805. IB (46) 32, 17/9. CAB 134/342. IB (46) 5th, 18/9. Tel, 18/9, 1970-S. M/5/91; Transfer, VIII, pp. 539-40. Telegram, 17/9, 110. M/4/2504. Telegram, 19/9, 114. M/4/1805. Telegram, 24/9, 127. M/4/1805. Laithwaite/Rance, 27/9. Eur. F. 169/2. Eur. E. 362/10, p. 40. Eur. E. 362/4, p. 29. Telegram, 24/10, 182. M/4/1805. Ranee's recollections. Eur. E. 362/12, p. 32. Telegram, 28/10, 186. M/4/2621. Telegram, 5/11, 4227. M/4/2621. Telegram, 6/11, 201, and minutes, 7/11. M/4/2614. Statement, in Nash to Laithwaite, 9/11, M/4/2614; R/8/36. Eur. E. 362/12, p. 37. Proposals, in Nash to Laithwaite, 6/11. M/4/2621; R/8/36; L/PO/245. Telegrams, 8/11, 206. M/4/2621; 9/11, 212. M/4/1910. Telegram, 13/11, 215. M/4/2621. Telegram, 13/11, 217. M/4/2621. Minute, 15/11. M/4/2621. Minute, 16/11. M/4/2621. Minute, 18/11. M/4/2621. Minute, 16/11. L/PO/245. Memorandum. R/8/36; L/PO/245; M/4/2621; IB (46) 40, 22/1. CAB 34/342. Unheaded memorandum, n.d. L/PO/245. Minute, 29/11. L/PO/245. IB (46) 39, 22/11. CAB 134/342. Ranee's recollections. Eur. E. 362/12, p. 26. IB (46) 40, 22/11. CAB 134/342. IB (46) 7th, 26/11. CAB 134/342. Note on draft telegram, 25/11. L/PO/243.

NOTES (PAGES 145-155) 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111

431

Telegram, 26/11, 4446. M/4/2621. Telegram, 2/12, 240. M/4/2621. Telegram, 30/11,236. M/4/2621. Telegrams, 5/12, 246, 247. M/4/2621. Telegram, 7/12, 248. M/4/2621. Minute, 7/12. L/PO/245. Minute, 7/12. L/PO/245. CP (46) 448, 9/12. CAB 129/15. CM (46) 104th, 10/12, 4. CAB 128/6. CP (46) 452, 11/12, and draft telegram. CAB 129/15. CM (46) 105th, 12/12, 3. CAB 128/5. Telegram, 13/12, 4587. M/4/262. Telegram, 14/12, 252. M/4/2621. Telegram, 13/12, M/4/2621. Telegram, 17/12, 262. M/4/2621. Telegram, 18/12, 264. M/4/2621. Telegram, 19/12, 265. M/4/2621. CP (46) 464, 18/12. CAB 129/15. CP (46) 465, 18/12. CAB 129/15. IB (46) 10th, 19/12. CAB 134/342. CM (46) 107th, 19/12. CAB 128/6. Telegram, 19/12, 4654. M/4/2621. Telegram, 19/12, 4653. M/4/2621. Donnison to Morley, 12/12, FL2. M/4/2587. Lanxin Xiang, Recasting the Imperial Far East, M. E. Sharpe, Armonk, NY, and London, 1995, p. 105. Ag SofS/Charge, 8/11, Night Letter 7614. FRUS 1946 VIII, p. 7. Ag SofS/Charge, 10/12, 8099. ibid., p. 10. SofS/CG, 20/12, 24/12, Cables 314, 320. ibid., pp. 12-13. Stein T^nnesson, 1946: Declenchement de la guerre d'Indochine, Paris, Harmattan, 1987, pp. 16-17. T^nnesson, p. 30. Minute, 17/7. F.O. 371/53965 [F10204/8/61]. A. B. Cole, Conflict in Indo-China, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1956, pp. 42-45. Caffery/SofS, 17/9, Cable 4671. FRUS VIII, p. 60. T^nnesson, pp. 37, 39, 43. T^nnesson, p. 54. T^nnesson, p. 38. Minute, 17/9. F.O. 371/53966 [F13485/8/61]. T^nnesson, pp. 25-26. Minute, 9/8. F.O. 371/53965 [F11667/8/61]. Record of an Interview with Mr Narn, 9/46. F.O. 371/53966 [F13898/ 8/61]. Minute, 26/10. F.O. 371/53967 [F15487/8/61]. T^nnesson, pp. 59-61. T^nnesson, pp. 64-65. T^nnesson, pp. 43-44. T^nnesson, pp. 70, 78. T^nnesson, pp. 101, 104-6, 109-110. T^nnesson, p. 43. Meiklereid/Bevin, 22/11, 149. F.O. 371/53969 [F17458/8/61]. T^nnesson, p. 69.

432

NOTES (PAGES 155-162)

112 Meiklereid/Bevin, 17/1/47, 10. F.O. 371/63452 [F1155/5/86] 113 Note by Clarke, 27/11. F.O. 371/53969 [Fl 7655/8/61]; Allen/Meiklereid, 4/12. F.O. 371/53968 [F17052/8/61]. 114 O'Sullivan/SofS, 3/12, Cable 131. FRUS 1946 VIII, p. 64. 115 Allen/Meiklereid, 4/12. F17052. 116 Graves/SEAD, 4/12. F.O. 371/53969 [F17748/8/61]. 117 T0nnesson, p. 145. 118 Clarke/Allen, 12/12. F.O. 371/53969 [F18025/8/61]. 119 T^nnesson, pp. 145, pp. 150-1. 120 T^nnesson, p. 124. 121 T^nnesson, pp. 128-9. 122 Telegram, 2/12, 494 saving. F.O. 371/53968 [F17443/8/61]. 123 T^nnesson, pp. 129-36. 124 Clarke/Allen, 12/12. F.O. 371/53969 [F18025/8/61]. 125 SofS/Missions, 17/12. FRUS VIII, pp. 72-73. 126 Telegram, 8/12, 373. F.O. 371/53969 [F17611/8/61]. 127 Telegram, 17/12, 520. F.O. 371/53969 [F18065/8/61]. 128 T^nnesson, pp. 188-9. 129 T^nnesson, p. 233. 130 T^nnesson, pp. 190-2, 195-7. 131 T^nnesson, pp. 185-6. Held up in Saigon. 132 T^nnesson, pp. 222, 225, 227, 233. Cf also Jean Sainteny, Histoire d'unepaix manquee, Dumont, Paris, 1953, p. 170. 133 T^nnesson, p. 187. 134 Telegram, 19/12, 684. F.O. 371/53969 [F18096/8/61]. 135 Minute by Dening, 16/12. F.O. 371/53969 [F18076/8/61]. 136 Minute, 17/12. F18076. 137 Minute by Allen, 19/12. F18076. 138 Minute by Allen, 21/12. F18076. 139 F18076. 140 Telegram, 24/12, 693. F.O. 371/53970 [F18303/8/61]. 141 Memorandum for Acheson, 23/12. FRUS VIII, pp. 75-77. 142 Van Bylandt/Van Roijen, 27/5. RGP 39, p. 363. 143 Telegrams, 28/4, 167; 29/4, 251. F.O. 371/53789 [F6148/1/61]. 144 Telegram, 2/5, 335. F.O. 371/53789 [F6291/1/61]. 145 SAC 45th, 25/5. W.O. 172/1812; RGP 39, pp. 336-47. 146 Cf C. W. Squire, 'Britain and the Transfer of Power in Indonesia, 1945-6', PhD, SOAS, 1979 [?], pp. 216-19. 147 SAC 45th. 148 Minute by Ismay, 1/6. PREM 8/263. 149 Telegram, 21/6, 874. F.O. 371/53798 [F9148/1/61]. 150 Cf Brookes/Burton, 19/4, 1. AFPD IX, pp. 303-4. 151 RGP 39, pp. 182-8. 152 RGP 39, pp. 189-90. 153 Van Mook/Logemann, 19/5. RGP 39, p. 310. 154 MacKereth/Van Mook, 17/6. RGP 39, p. 466. 155 Sjahrir/Van Mook, 15/6. RGP 39, pp. 466-7. 156 Brookes/Dunk, 21/5, Cable 93. AFPD IX, p. 448. 157 RGP, pp. 468-70. 158 Sjahrir/Mansergh, 23/6. RGP 39, p.319n. 159 Telegram, 24/6, 3D8. F.O. 371/53799 [F9482/1/61]. 160 Van Bylandt/Van Roijen, 21/6. RGP 39, p. 511.

NOTES (PAGES 162-167)

433

161 Telegram, 27/6, 1097. EO. 371/53799 [F9648/1/61]. 162 Telegram, 24/7, 1405. EO. 371/53804 [F10851/1/61]. 163 Telegram to UK Deleg to conference of FMs, 22/6, 383. EO. 371/53800 [F9681/1/61]. Cf Brookes/Dept, 8/6, 112. AFPD IX, pp. 503-4. Kirby/ Evatt and Dunk, 9/6, 114. ibid., pp. 505-7. Dept/Evatt, 12/6, A39. ibid., pp. 513-14. 164 Telegram to Kirby, 21/6, 60. AFPD IX p. 540. 165 Minute, 22/6, and note thereon. EO. 371/53800 [F9681/1/61]. 166 1/7, 236. F9681.AFPDX, pp. 6-7. 167 Telegram, 3/7/46, 263. EO. 371/53800 [F9872/1/61]; AFPD X, pp. 20-21. 168 Minute for PM, 29/6, 46/11. F9482. 169 Minute, 2/7, M 230/46. F9482. 170 Smyth/SofS, 18/6, Cable 1007. FRUS VIII, pp. 828-30. 171 Minute, 27/6. EO. 371/53799 [F9598/1/61]. 172 Telegram, 27/6, 964. EO. 371/53799 [F9598/1/61]. 173 Telegram, 27/6, 426. F9598. 174 G. McT. Kahin, Nationalism and Revolution in Indonesia, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1952, pp. 189-92. Mrazek, pp. 317-18. 175 Van Roijen/Van Bylandt, 29/6. RGP 39, pp. 544-6. Aide-memoire, 29/6, p. 588; 3/7, p. 601. 176 Squire, p. 240. 177 Minute, 5/7, and note thereon. EO. 371/53801 [F10032/1/61]. 178 Addis/Henderson, 8/7. F10032. 179 Telegram from Bland, 6/7, 280. EO. 371/53801 [F9982/1/61]. 180 Minute by Wilson-Young, 9/7. F9598. 181 Minute, 9/7. F9598. 182 Telegram, 9/7, 452. F9982. 183 Drummond, p. 101. 184 Telegram, 20/7. EO. 371/53804 [F10578/1/61]. 185 F10578. 186 Telegram, 19/7, 374. EO. 371/53804 [F10579/1/61]. 187 Minute, 23/7. EO. 371/53805 [F11077/1/61]. 188 Note on copy of 374. EO. 371/53804 [F10886/1/61]. 189 Minute, 23/7. F10886. 190 Minute, 24/7. EO. 371/53804 [F10911/1/61]. 191 Memorandum, 27/7. EO. 371/53805 [Fl 1163/1/61]. 192 Minute for PM, 24/7, PM 46/126. F10911. 193 Memorandum, 1/8. EO. 371/53807 [F11665/1/61]. 194 Yong Mun Cheong, H.J. van Mook, Nijhoff, The Hague, 1982, pp. 86-89. 195 Telegram, 30/7, 403. EO. 371/53805 [F11232/1/61]. 196 Minute, 3/8. Fl 1232. 197 Minute, 29/7. EO. 371/53805 [Fl 1253/1/61]. 198 Lascelles/Sargent, 1/8. EO. 371/53805 [F11196/1/61]. 199 Minute, 1/8. EO. 371/53805 [F11369/1/61]. 200 Minute by Prime Minister, 5/8. PREM/8/262; EO. 371/53806 [F11650/ 1/61]. Cf Note by Boetzelaer, 4/6. RGP 41, p. 173. 201 Bland/Bevin, 6/8, 464. EO. 371/53806 [F11491/1/61]. 202 RGP 41, pp. 28-34. 203 Van Mook/Jonkman, 30/7. RGP 41, pp. 113-17. 204 A. J. S. Reid, The Indonesian National Revolution, Longman, Hawthorn, 1974, p. 108; A. Arthur Schiller, The Formation ofFederal Indonesia, van Hoeve, The Hague, Bandung, 1955, pp. 21-22.

434 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249

NOTES (PAGES 167-173) Enclosure in F11491; Final version, RGP 41, pp. 187-92. Minute, 8/8. F.O. 371/53806 [Fl 1502/1/61]. Note, 8/8. Fl 1502. Minute by Allen, 12/8. F.O. 371/53807 [Fl 1849/1/61]. Aide-memoire, 15/8. F.O. 371/53807 [F11849/1/61]; RGP 41, pp. 230-2. Minutes, 12/8. Fl 1849. Minute by Allen, 14/8. F.O. 371/53807 [F11719/1/61]. Minute, 23/8. F12022. Telegram, 17/8, 1708. F.O. 371/53808 [F11974/1/61]. Telegram, 25/8, 1848. F.O. 371/53810 [F12598/1/61]. Minute, 2/9. F12598. Mrazek, pp. 321,326. Squire, pp. 255-6. Squire, pp. 259-60, 271. Minute, 27/9. F.O. 371/53818 [F14343/1/61]. Telegram, 2/10, 2315. F.O. 371/53818 [F14343/1/61]. Telegram, 4/10, 2082 F14343; Cf Michiels/van Boetzelaer, 5/10. RGP, p. 492. Chifley/Attlee, 9/10, 357. AFPD X, p. 281. F.O. 371/53816 [F14141/1/61]. Minutes, 7/10. F.O. 371/53826 [F15455/1/61]; RGP 41, pp. 502-10. Squire, p. 276. Squire, pp. 277-8. Foote/SofS, 21/10 Cable 141. FRUS VIII, pp. 849-51. Mrazek, p. 329; Oey, Hong Lee, War and Diplomacy in Indonesia 1945-50, James Cook University, Townsville, 1981, pp. 106-7. Mrazek, p. 330. Squire, p. 282. Telegram, 6/11, 258. F.O. 371/53830 [F16348/1/61]. Minute, 7/11. F16348. Telegram, 8/11, 97. Fl6348. Minute, 13/11. F.O. 371/53831/2 [F16620/1/61]. Squire, p. 283. Minute, 18/11. F.O. 371/53834 [F17212/1/61]. Squire, p. 292. Yong, p. 97. S. H. Drummond, 'Britain's Involvement in Indonesia 1945-63', PhD thesis, Southampton University, 1979, p. 128. Tan Malaka, From Jail to Jail, trans. Helen Jarvis, Ohio University, Athens, 1991, III, p. 174. Telegram, 5/12, 2324. F.O. 371/53836 [F17741/1/61]. Telegram, 7/12, 920. F.O. 371/53835 [F17392/1/61]. Telegram, 8/12, 532. F.O. 371/53835 [F17584/1/61]. Telegram, 10/12, 539. F.O. 371/53836 [F17700/1/61]; Telegram, 11/12, 2973. F17741; Sargent/PM, 10/12, PM46/231. F.O. 371/53837 [F18274/ 1/61]. Minute, 8/11. Fl 7776. Minute, 21/11. F.O. 371/53836 [Fl7777/1/61]. Memorandum, 11/12. F.O. 371/53836 [F17879/1/61]. Minute, 16/12. F17879. Minute, 3/3/47. F.O. 371/63582 [F1596/45/62]. q. A. Lau, The Malayan Union Controversy, Singapore, Oxford University Press, 1991, p. 152.

NOTES (PAGES 173-180)

435

250 Telegram, 4/5, 222. MD, pp. 225-7. 251 q. Lau, p. 158.

252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262

Telegram, 25/6, 6. M D , pp. 236-9. q. Lau, p. 167. q. Lau, p. 169. Lau, p. 162. q. Lau, p. 192. q. Lau, p. 202. q. Lau, p. 203-4. q. Lau, p. 204. Gent/Lloyd, 22/11. M D , p. 279. q. Lau, p. 208. q. Lau, p. 208.

263 R. H. W. Reece, The Name of Brooke, Kuala Lumpur, Oxford University Press, 1982, p. 231 264 Reece, pp. 236, 238-9. 265 Note by M. Noble. 266 Galsworthy/Bryant, 25/6. 267 Reece, p. 255. 268 M. Noble/Keeling, 18/5. 269 Bertram/King George VI, 18/6. A. Brooke, TheFacts about Sarawak, London andWisbech, 1946, p. 94. 270 Reece, p. 261. 271 Reece, p. 257. 272 Anthony Brooke was prohibited from entering Sarawak in December. 273 Hansard, Commons, 19/12/46, col. 2183. 274 Reece, p. 267. 275 Agreement, 26/6/46. PP Colonial No. 202 (1946). 276 Memorandum for Quirino, 27/2/47. q. Pacifico A. Ortiz, 'Legal Aspects of the North Borneo Question', Philippine Studies, 11.1 (January 1963), p. 19n. 277 Telegram, 7/7, 28 Saving. EO. 371/54344 [Fl0678/10035/83]. 278 Telegram, 5/6, 34. F.O. 371/53981 [F8706/84/61]. 279 Minutes and drafts. F.O. 371/54344 [F11226/10035/83]. 280 Cheke/Armstrong, 21/8. Fl 1226. 281 Tarling, Sulu and Sabah, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1978, p. 320. L. G. Noble, Philippine Policy toward Sabah, Arizona University Press, Tucson, 1977, p. 42. 282 Civil Suit No. 169/39, 18/12/39. CO. 874/942. 283 Adams, Moses and Culver/State Department, 18/6, in Inverchapel/F.O., 18/10, 2495. F.O. 371/54346 [F15523/10035/85]. 284 D.O. communication, 18/7. F.O. 371/54344 [F15523/10035/83]. 285 Armstrong/Foulds, 1/8. F.O. 371/54344 [Fl 1226/10035/83]. 286 Minute, 8/10. F.O. 371/54346 [F14675/10035/83]. 287 Burgess/Cheke, 13/11. F.O. 371/54347 [F16427/10035/85]. 288 Carmichael/Cheke, 16/11. F16427. 289 Minutes, 22/11. Fl6427. 290 FE(O) (46), 14th, 11/12. CAB 134/279. 291 Watt/Cheke, 2/1/47. F18106. 292 Bevin/Foulds, 14/1, 6. F18106. 293 Telegram, 20/12, and minute, 21/12. F.O. 371/54348 [F18143/10035/83]. 294 Foulds/Bevin, 21/11, 94. F.O. 371/54348 [F17690/10035/83]. 295 Telegram, 26/3/46, 243. EO. 371/54359 [F4956/4/40].

436 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311

312 313 314 315 316

NOTES (PAGES 180-187) Telegram, 2/5, 386. EO. 371/54360 [F6702/4/40]. Telegram, 4/4, 300. EO. 371/53832 [F5196/3/61]. Minute, 25/4. EO. 371/53863 [F63903/3/61]. Notes of a meeting at the War Office, 29/4. EO. 371/53867 [F6772/3/61]. Telegram, 30/4, 468. EO. 371/53864 [F6504/3/61]. Telegrams, 1/5, 470, 471. EO. 371/53864 [F6523/3/61]. Telegrams, 1/5, 463, 464. F6523. Telegram, 3/5, 491. EO. 371/53866 [F6642/3/61]. Telegram, 7/5, EO. 371/53867 [F6813/3/61]. Telegram, 4/5, 496, and minute, 7/5. EO. 371/53866 [F6684/3/61]. Minute by Moss, 3/5. F6591. Minute, 13/5. EO. 371/53869 [F7326/3/61]. WFS (46) 13th, 4/6. CAB134/729. SEAF(46),115, 20/9. CAB 134/679. SEAF(46) 124, 12/10. ibid. Telegrams, 14/11, 1376, 1377. EO. 371/53928 [F13589/3/61]. 28/11, 1647; 7/12, 1454, 1455. EO. 371/53936 [F17180/3/61]. 8/12, 1687. EO. 371/53937 [F17606/3/61]. 9/12, 1690. EO. 371/53937 [F17614/ 3/61]. Cf FRUS VIII, pp. 975-6. Telegram, 4/6, 890. EO. 371/54411 [F9857/327/40]. Telegram, 14/11, 1377. EO. 371/53928 [F15589/3/61]. Memorandum of understanding, in Thompson/Bevin, 27/12, 320. EO. 371/64363 [F197/2/61]. Cf Stanton/SofS, 30/12, 221. FRUS VIII, pp. 976-7. Telegram, 30/12, 1760. EO. 371/53941 [F18428/3/61]. W. D. Reeve, Public Administration in Siam, London: RJIA, 1951, p. 70: £100m; hyperbole, according to G. W. Skinner, Chinese Society in Thailand, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1957, p. 288. 4 Concession and conflict

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Young, in J. Zametica, ed., British Officials and Foreign Policy 1941-1945, Leicester University Press, 1990, pp. 110-12. Duff Cooper, Old Men Forget, Hart-Davis, London, 1954, p. 369. J. L. Gaddis, The US and the Origins of the Cold War, Columbia University Press, New York, 1972, pp. 348-51; Dean Acheson, Present at the Creation, Norton, New York, 1969, pp. 217-25. q. D. W. Ellwood, Rebuilding Europe, Longman, London, 1992, p. 69. q. Boyle, in Zametica, p. 190. q. Kent, in M. S. Dockrill and J. W. Young, eds, British Foreign Policy, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1989, p. 56. Peter Clarke, reviewing Kenneth O. Morgan, Labour in Power, 1945-1951, in TLS, 16/3/84. G. C. Peden, in J. Becker and F. Knipping eds, Power in Europe? de Gruyter, Berlin, pp. 244, 250. Rothwell, in Zametica, p. 169. q. Rothwell, Cold War, Cape, London, 1982, pp. 283-4. q. Rothwell, Cold War, p. 290. q. Adamthwaite, in Becker and Knipping, eds, Power in Europe?, pp. 14-15. A. Inder Singh, The Limits of British Influence, Pinter, London, 1993, p. 22. Fieldhouse, in Ovendale, ed., Foreign Policy, Leicester University Press, 1984, p. 91.

NOTES (PAGES 188-198) 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59

437

Inder Singh, p. 23. Inder Singh, p. 29. Telegram, 8/5, 28 SC. Transfer, X, p. 699. Mrazek, pp. 334, 336; T. Remme, Britain and Regional Cooperation in SouthEastAsia, 1945-49, Routledge, London, 1995, pp. 97-98. James Tuck-Hong Tang, Britain's Encounter with Revolutionary China, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1992, p. 18. Memorandum, South East Asia, n.d. F.O. 371/63547 [F1969/1969/61]. Minute, 7/1/47. F1969. Record of a Meeting, 10/2. F1969. Minute, 15/3. F.O. 371/63543 [F7570/1147/61]. Minute by Allen, 18/3. F.O. 371/63543 [F7570/1147/61]. Minute, 23/4. F.O. 371/63544 [F7573/1147/61]. Note of Meeting held in Treasury, 24/4. CO. 537/2203. Minute for P.M., 28/5. CO. 537/2203. Minute by Allen, 4/6. F.O. 371/ 63546 [F7728/1147/61]. Telegram, 5/9, 1832. F.O. 371/63545 [F12345/1147/61]. Minutes, 9/9. F12345. Telegram from Hankinson, 22/9, 773; reply, 26/9, 684. CO. 537/2205. Minute by Morris, 20/10. CO. 537/2206. Drafts in Bourdillon/Christofas, 15/10. F.O. 371/63545 [F13970/ 1147/61]. Minutes by Allen, Dening, 17/11. F.O. 371/63545 [F14864/1147/61]. Dening/Killearn, 28/11. F.O. 371/63545 [F15696/1147/61]. Report, 9/1/48. F.O. 371/69686 [Fl488/286/61]. Minute, 27/1. F.O. 371/63518 [F560/56/61]. Wright/Dening, 14/5. F.O. 371/63518 [F7103/56/61]. G. F. Seel/Dening, 21/6. F.O. 371/63518 [F8650/56/61]. Minute by Allen, 11/7. F8650. Minute, 10/12. F.O. 371/63518 [F16507/56/61]. Note on Arrangements in Connection with a possible Visit by a Delegation from the Executive Council, 9 December 1946. L/PO/245. IB (47) 3rd, 8/1. CAB 134/343. Minute, 24/9. M/4/3023. IB (47), 5, 7, 7/1. CAB 134/344. IB (47) 3rd, 8/1. CAB 134/343. Bevin/Attlee, 23/1. F.O. 800/462. BUK (47) 2nd, 3rd, 17/1; BUK (4) 22, 17/1. CAB 133/3. B(UKR) (4) 4th, 20/1. CAB 133/3. B(UKR) (47) 5th, 22/1. CAB 133/3. BC(47) 14, 23/1. CAB 133/3. Third Statement, BC (47) 16, 25/1. CAB 133/3. PM's Statement. M/4/2621. Hansard, House of Commons, Vol. 432, Cols 777-82, 28/1. Laithwaite/Rance, 28/1. Eur. F. 169/3. Reuter Report, 29/1. M/4/2622. Minute, 12/2. M/4/2811. Minute, 15/2. M/4/2811. Telegram, 8/2. M/4/3023. Minute, 13/2. M/4/3023. Minute, 13/2. M/4/3023. Minute, 15/2. M/4/3023.

438 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106

NOTES (PAGES 198-207) Nash/Laithwaite, 22/3. M/4/3023. Minute by Neary, 21/3. ibid. Telegram, 1/2, 311. M/4/2853. Addison/Attlee, 3/2. PREM 8/419. Minute, 17/2. 33/47. PREM 8/419. Ledwidge/Laithwaite, 3/4. M/4/2853. Minute, 6/5. M/4/2854. Telegrams, 17/5, 113, M/4/3023; 18/5, 1156. M/4/2854. Eur. E. 362/2, p.25. Rees-Williams/Pethick-Lawrence, 15/4. M/4/2685. Eur.E. 362/8, ch. 9, p. 9. Times, 11/4. Speech, enclosed in Nash/Laithwaite, 23/4. M/4/2685. Hansard, HofC, Vol. 436, col. 2328, 2/5. R. J. Moore, Making the New Commonwealth, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1987, p. 99. Times, 20/5. Minute, 20/5. M/4/2677. Telegram, 24/5, 1199. M/4/2677. Telegram, 27/5, 179. M/4/2677. Telegram, 28/5, 184. M/4/2677. Minute, 2/6. M/4/2684. PM/Aung San, 2/6. M/4/2677. Telegram, 3/6, 1264. M/4/2677. q. H. Tinker, 'Burma: Power Transferred or Exacted?', in R. B. Smith and A. J. Stockwell, eds, British Policy and the Transfer of Power in Asia, SOAS,

London, 1988, p.19. Telegram, 8/6, 212. M/4/2677. Telegram, 9/6. M/4/2677. Listowel/Mountbatten, 13/6. Transfer, XI, pp. 335-9. Telegram, 19/6, 232. M/4/2677. IB (47) 118, 21/6. CAB 134/346. IB(47) 33rd, 23/6. CAB134/343. IB (47) 34th, 24/6. CAB 134/343. Minutes, 25/6. F.O. 371/63263 [F9120/8793/79]. IB(BC) (47) 1st, 25/6. CAB 134/347. See Nu, Saturday's Son, Yale University Press, New Haven, 1975, p. 132. IB(47) 36th, 26/6, Item 4. CAB 134/343. Telegram, 27/6, M/4/2678. Telegram, 27/6, 1445. M/4/2678. Note, 1/7. M/4/2678. IB(47) 38th, 1/7. CAB 134/343. Minute, 9/7. F.O. 371/63263 [F9121/8793/79]. Minute, 1/7. F.O. 371/63263 [F9471/8793/79]. Telegram, 29/6, 243. M/4/2678. IB(BC) 47, 3rd, 2/7. CAB 134/347. Minute, 16/7. M/4/3023. Dorman-Smith/Dening, 14/2/48. F.O. 371/69469 [F2291/17/79]. Dening/Dorman-Smith, 18/2/47. F2291. Minute, 25/7/47. M/4/2714. Minute, 13/8. M/4/2679. JP(46) 234 Final, 3/1. M/4/1961 COS(47) 4th, 6/1. DEFE 4/1, PRO. IB(47) 145, 25/7. CAB 134/346.

NOTES (PAGES 208-215) 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157

439

IB(47) 44th, 4/8. CAB 134/343. Freeman/SofS, 18/8. M/4/2128. Telegram, 14/8, 809. M/4/2128. As note 108. Minute, 23/8, and draft. M/4/2128; Telegram, 29/8, 881. M/4/2128. Telegram, 22/8, 397. M/4/2128. Nu/Cripps, 9/9. CAB 127/151. Statement, 8/9. M/4/3023. Minute, 10/10. PREM 8/415. Minute, 4/11. EO. 371/63265 [Fl4025/8793/79]. Cmd. 7360. CM(47) 78th, 2/10. CAB128/10. Laithwaite/Rance, 29/10. Eur. F. 169/3. Hansard, HofL, 443, cols. 1836-1961, 5/11. Hansard, HofC, Vol.1, 52, cols. 846-92, 25/11. Rance/Laithwaite, 12/11. Eur. F. 169/3. Telegrams, 16, 18/12, 2853, 2889; 22/12, 596. M/4/2699. Lau, pp. 212-19. q. Lau, p. 229. q. Lau, p. 230. Lau, pp. 234-5. q. Lau, p. 236. q. Lau, p. 237. q. Lau, p. 240. Lau, pp. 241-4. Gent/Creech-Jones, 4/11. q. Lau, p. 247. q. Lau, p. 247. Lau, p. 248. Lau, pp. 248-9. Reece, pp. 270-1. Reece, pp. 273-5. Minutes by Gandy, 28/5; Street, 28/5. F.O. 371/63193 [F7010/45/62]. Telegram from MacKereth, 1/2/47, 83. F.O. 371/63582 [F1361/45/62]. Telegram, 6/2, 80. Fl361. Telegram, 16/3, 214. F.O. 371/63586 [F3643/45/62]. Cf Killearn/Evatt, 19/3, 147. AFPD I, pp. 20-22. Telegram from Ward, 18/3, 170. F.O. 371/63586 [F3723/45/62]. Minute, 19/3. F.O. 371/63586 [F3677/45/62]. Minute by Whitteridge, 28/3. F.O. 371/65587 [F4246/45/62]. Telegram, 19/3, 227. F.O. 371/63586 [F3788/45/62]. Telegram, 8/5, 1087. F.O. 371/63591 [F6393/45/62]. Telegram, 12/5, 364. F.O. 371/63592 [F6590/45/62]. Minute by Allen, 15/5. F.O. 371/63592 [F6606/45/62]. Telegram, 14/5, 267. F.O. 371/63592 [F6651/45/62]. Minutes, 22, 23/5. F.O. 371/63592 [F6684/45/62]. Telegram, 20/5, 273. F.O. 371/63593 [F6905/45/62]. CM(47) 48th, 20/5, Item 2. CAB 128/9. Minute, 21/5. F.O. 371/63594 [F7094/45/62]. Enc in Addis/F.O., 21/5. F.O. 371/63593 [F7092/45/62]. Telegram, 24/5, 3069. F.O. 371/63593 [F7056/45/62]. Telegram, 25/5, 1221. F.O. 371/63593 [F7073/45/62]. Minute, 30/5. F.O. 371/63595 [F7492/45/62].

440 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201

NOTES (PAGES 215-219) 31/5, 5349. EO. 371/63594 [F7141/45/62]. Conversation, 29/5. FRUS VI, pp. 932-3. Telegram, 3/6, 3202. F.O. 377/63595 [F7563/45/62]. Telegram, 3/6, 343. F.O. 371/63594 [F7141/45/62]. Cf Mem, 3/6. F.O. 371/63596 [F7628/45/62]. Telegram, 3/6, 344. F.O. 371/63594 [F7141/45/62]. Ballard/ExAffs, 30/5, Cable 162. AFPD I, p.73. Telegram, 7/6, 417. F.O. 371/63596 [F7684/45/62]. Telegram, 8/6, 418. F.O. 371/63596 [F7777/45/62]. Cf Het dagboek van Schermerhorn, ed. C. Smit, Wolters-Noordhof, Groningen, 1970, II, pp. 610-11. Telegram, 7/6, 416. F.O. 371/63596 [F7672/45/62]. Telegram, 9/6, 423. F.O. 371/63596 [F7804/45/62]. Cf Ballard, Cable 173, 10/6. AFPD I, pp. 80-83. Telegram, 11/6, 427. F.O. 371/63597 [F7860/45/62]. Telegram, 10/6, 323. F.O. 371/63597 [F7809/45/62]. Minute, 11/6. F7804. Telegram, 12/6, 449. F.O. 371/63596 [F7778/45/62]. Minute, 12/6. F7804. Telegram, 14/6, 463. F.O. 371/63597 [F7854/45/62]. Telegram, 13/6, 1342. F.O. 371/63598 [F7989/45/62]. Telegram, 14/6, 1349. F.O. 371/63598 [F7992/45/62]. Minute by Allen, 16/6. F.O. 371/63599 [F8318/45/62]. Telegram, 16/6, 5950. F.O. 371/63597 [F7854/45/62]. Telegram, 16/6, 475. F.O. 371/63597 [F7854/45/62]. Cf also CM(47) 54th, 17/6, Item 1. CAB 128/10. Minute, 17/6. FRUS VI, pp. 949-50. Cf Telegram, 17/6, 3469. F.O. 371/ 63598 [F8129/45/62]. Minute, 19/6. F.O. 371/63598 [F8208/45/62]. Telegram, 17/6, 347. F.O. 371/63599 [F8334/45/62]. Minute, 17/6. EO. 371/63598 [F8043/45/62]. Minute by Allen, 18/6. F.O. 371/63601 [F8673/45/62]; Telegram, 19/6, 489. F8129. Telegram, 25/6, 1535. F.O. 371/63599 [F8358]. Mrazek, p. 344. Minute by Allen, 20/6. F.O. 371/63601 [F8674/45/62]. Cf Ballard/Ext Affs, 20/6. Cable 186. AFPD I, pp. 93-94. Telegram, 23/6, 465. F.O. 371/63600 [F8409/45/62]. Telegram, 23/6, 329. F.O. 371/63600 [F8434/45/62]. Minute, 24/6. F.O. 371/63600 [F8363/45/62]. PR, 25/6. FRUS VI, pp. 958-9; also in Drumright/Allen, 27/6. F.O. 371/ 63601[F8803/45/62]. Telegram, 24/6, 468. F.O. 371/63600 [F8539/45/62]. Telegram, 26/6, 474. F.O. 371/63600 [F8622/45/62]. Telegram, 27/6, 479. EO. 371/63601 [F8677/45/62]. Telegram, 25/6, 515. EO. 371/63600 [F8539/45/62]. Minute, 26/6. F.O. 371/63601 [F8635/45/62]. Mrazek, p. 346. Ballard/Ext Affs, 28/6, 200. AFPD I, pp. 102-3. SofS/CG, 26/6, 172. FRUS VI, pp. 959-60; to Embassy, 26/6, 316. pp. 960-1. FRUS VI, p. 959n. Telegram, 30/6, 490. F.O. 371/63602 [F8856/45/62]. Baruch/SofS, 29/6, Cable 444. FRUS VI, p. 966. Ballard/Ext Affs, 2/7, Cable 209. AFPD I, pp. 108-9.

NOTES (PAGES 219-224) 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249

441

Telegram, 1/7, 495. EO. 371/63602 [F8891/45/62]. SofS/CG, 3/7, Cable 181. FRUS VI, p. 970. CG/SofS, 4/7, Cable 258. FRUS VI, pp. 970-1. Telegram, 8/7, 401. EO. 371/63603 [F9174/45/62]. Telegram, 7/7, 512. EO. 371/63602 [F9074/45/62]. Telegram, 9/7, 523. EO. 371/63603 [F9195/45/62]. Cf Ballard/Ext Affs, 9/7, 220. AFPD I, pp. 14-15. Telegram, 7/7, 452. EO. 371/63602 [F9074/45/62]. Telegram, 8/7, 603. F9074. Minute by Morgan, 8/7. FRUS VI, pp. 972-3. Minute by Allen, 20/7. EO. 371/63603 [F9367/45/62]. Telegram, 11/7, 529. EO. 371/63603 [F9336/45/62]. Aust Gt/Addison, 16/7, 181. AFPD I, p.119; D.O. 35/2843, PRO. Telegram, 18/7, 148. D.O. 35/2843. Telegram, 15/7, 539. EO. 371/63604 [F9612/45/62]; Ballard/Ext Affs, 16/7, Cable 227. AFPD I, pp. 121-2. Ballard/Ext Affs, 17/7, Cable 229. AFPD I, p. 122. Telegram, 18/7, 546. EO. 371/63604 [F9683/45/62]. Telegram, 18/7, 1577. EO. 371/63605 [F9741/45/62]. Minutes, 17/7, 17/7. EO. 371/63604 [F9617/45/62]. Cf Telegram, 12/7, 1544. EO. 371/63608 [F10382/45/62]. Minute, 17/7. EO. 371/63605 [F9742/45/62]. Minute by Allen, 19/7. F9683. Telegram, 18/7, 475. F9683. SofS/Embassy, 17/7, Cable 358. FRUS VI, pp. 977-8. Telegram, 19/7, 415. EO. 371/63605 [F9766/45/62]. Amb/SofS, 20/7, Cable 522. FRUS VI, p. 982. Foote/SofS, 22/7, Cable 278. FRUS VI, p. 984. Telegram, 20/7, 418. EO. 371/63605 [F9759/45/62]. Minute, 21/7. F9759. Telegram, 21/7, 7348. EO. 371/63605 [F9934/45/62]. Minute, 21/7. EO. 371/63606 [F10030/45/62]. Telegram 23/7, 675. EO. 371/63606 [F10009/45/62]. Statement, 21/7. EO. 371/63606 [F10098/45/62]. Telegram, 23/7, 7453. EO. 371/63606 [F10038/45/62]. Telegram, 24/7, 4128. EO. 371/63606 [F10031/45/62]. Minute by Street, 8/7. EO. 371/63602 [F9125/45/62]. Minutes, 26/7, 26/7. F10031. Burton/Chifley, 25/7. AFPD I, p. 153; Aust. Gt/Addison, 25/7, Cable 194. ibid., pp. 153-4; D.O. 35/2844. Minute, 25/7. EO. 371/63606 [F10116/45/62]. Minute, 25/7. F10116. Chifley/Attlee, 26/7, 197. AFPD I, pp. 161-2; D.O. 35/2844. Minute by P. H. Crosthwaite, 26/7. EO. 371/63610 [F10579/45/62]. Minute, 26/7. F10579. Minute by Allen, 28/7. EO. 371/63610 [F10638/45/62]. Chifley/Attlee, 28/7, 200. AFPD I, 28/7, p. 167. Freer/Chifley, 29/7, 154, ibid., p. 172. Attlee/Chifley, 29/7, Cable 161. AFPD I, pp. 174-5. Telegrams, 31/7, 2034, 2035. EO. 371/63608 [F10367, 10368/45/62]. Margaret George, Australia and the Indonesian Revolution, Melbourne University Press, 1980, p. 84. Telegram, 29/7, 4188. EO. 371/63607 [F10285/45/62].

442

NOTES (PAGES 224-229)

250 Graves/FE Dept., 28/7. EO. 371/63610 [Fl0585/45/62]. 251 Mitcheson/Brain, 24/7, in Killearn/Sargent, 21/8. EO. 371/63616 [F12126/45/62]. 252 Minute, 1/8. F10285. 253 Killearn/Sargent, 21/8. F12126. 254 Telegram, 1/8, 4254. EO. 371/63607 [F10444/45/62]. 255 F10444. 256 Memorandum by Vincent, 29/7. FRUS VI, p. 993. 257 Memorandum by Villard, 29/7. FRUS VI, pp. 994-6. 258 Memorandum by Bohlen, 29/7. FRUS VI, p. 996. 259 Memorandum, 30/7. FRUS VI, p. 997. 260 Memorandum, 31/7. FRUS VI, pp. 1002-3. 261 Baruch/SofS, 31/7, Cable 557. FRUS VI, pp. 1001-2. 262 Marshall/Embassy, 1/8, Cable 380. FRUS VI, p. 1004. 263 CG/SofS, 1/8, 302. FRUS VI, p. 1005. 264 Minute by Allen, 2/8. EO. 371/63609 [F10496/45/62]. 265 Minute, 2/8. F10496. 266 Telegram, 4/8, 4287. EO. 371/63609 [F10472/45/62]. 267 Minute, 8/8. EO. 371/63610 [F10706/45/62]. 268 Minute, 6/8, 6/8. F10472. 269 Minute by Street, 5/8. EO. 371/63609 [F10448/45/62]. 270 Bland/Bevin, 8/8, desp 476, and enc, 7/8. EO. 371/63612 [F11142/ 45/62]. 271 Minute, 20/8. Fl 1142. 272 Minute by Street, 1/9. EO. 371/63615 [Fl 1957/45/62]. 273 Minute by Allen, 28/8. Fl 1142. 274 Cf Burton/Evatt, 2/8, draft. AFPD I, p. 212. 275 Statement by Mayhew, 5/8. EO. 371/63611 [F10969/45/62]. 276 Minute by Street, 26/8. EO. 371/63616 [F12135/45/62]. 277 Telegram, 21/8, 277. EO. 371/63616 [F12365/45/62]. 278 Bennett/Whitteridge, 25/8, 25044/1 (B)/47. F12365. 279 Telegram, 23/8, 1767. EO. 371/63614 [Fl 1705/45/62]. 280 Lovett/Foote, 14/8, 221. FRUS VI, pp. 1028-9. 281 Lovett/CG, 19/8, 228. FRUS VI, p. 1037. 282 Ag Sg/Embassy, 21/8, Cable 429. FRUS VI, pp. 1039-40. 283 Minute by Whitteridge, 3/9. F12126. 284 Minute, 21/8. EO. 371/63613 [Fl 1486/45/62]. 285 Telegram, 23/8, 8639. EO. 371/63613[F11545/45/62]. 286 Johnson/SofS, 16/8, 750. FRUS VI, pp. 1033-4. 287 AgSofS/Embassy, 21/8, Cable 450. FRUS VI, pp. 1040-2. 288 S. H. Drummond, 'Britain's Involvement in Indonesia', PhD thesis, Southampton University, pp. 168-9. George, pp. 87-88. 289 Ag SofS/CG, 27/8, Cable 235. FRUS VI, pp. 1042-3. 290 Telegram, 29/8, 829. EO. 371/63614 [Fl 1809/45/62]. 291 Minute, 10/9. F.O. 371/63617 [F12645/45/62]. 292 Minute, 11/9. F.O. 371/636l7[F12415/45/62]. 293 Minute, 11/9. F12645. 294 Telegram, 13/9, 2124. F12645. 295 Drummond, p. 169. 296 Minute, 4/9. EO. 371/63617 [F12399/45/62]. 297 Minute, 5/9. F12395. 298 Telegram, 5/9, 857. F.O. 371/63613 [Fl 1545/45/62].

NOTES (PAGES 229-234) 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315 316 317 318 319

443

Bland/Bevin, 8/8, 476. F11142. Telegram, 4/9, 510. F.O. 371/63616 [F12274/45/62]. Telegram, 9/9, 514. F.O. 371/63617 [F12145/45/62]. Telegram, 15/9, 517. F.O. 371/63618 [F12655/45/62]. Subandrio/Allen, 16/9. F.O. 371/63617 [F12399/45/62]. Minute by Allen, 15/9. F.O. 371/63618 [F12717/45/62]. Telegram, 24/9, 524. F.O. 371/63618 [F13128/45/62]. Minute by Allen, 26/9. F.O. 371/63619 [F13378/45/62]. Minute by Allen, 24/9. F.O. 371/63619 [F13259/45/62]. Telegram, 26/9, 256. F.O. 371/63619 [F13264/45/62]. Minute by Harvey, 23/9. F.O. 371/63618 [F13137/45/62]. Minute, 29/9. F.O. 371/63619 [F13324/45/62]. Minute, 29/9. F.O. 371/63619 [F13379/45/62]. Heydon/Ext Affs, London 2/10, Cablegm 3518. AFPD I, p. 343. Minute, 29/9. F13379. Minute, 30/9. F13379. Telegram, 11/10, 962. F.O. 371/63621 [F13882/45/62]. Heydon/Ext Affs, 13/10. AFPD I, p. 354. Minute by Street, 28/10. F.O. 371/63621 [F13957/45/62]. Dening/Gage, 17/10. F.O. 371/63621 [F14089/45/62]. Minute by Whitteridge, 20/10. F.O. 371/63619 [F13259/45/62]. CfMrazek, p. 356. 320 Minute by Allen, 17/10. F.O. 371/63624 [F14575/45/62]. 321 Mrazek, p. 357.

322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 339 340 341 342 343 344 345 346 347 348 349

Minute, 14/10. F.O. 371/63621 [F14049/45/62]. Telegram, 8/11, 783. F.O. 371/63625 [F14921/45/62]. Telegram, 10/11, 786. F.O. 371/63625 [F14948/45/62]. Minute, 11/11. F14948. Minute, 12/11. F14948. Minute, 17/11. F14948. Minute, 18/11. F14948. Minutes, 24, 25/11. F.O. 371/63627 [F15526/45/62]. Minute, 28/11. F.O. 371/63627 [F15713/45/62]. Minute, 2/12. F.O. 371/63628 [F16047/45/62]. Minute by Street, 4/12. F.O. 371/63627 [F15869/45/62]. Minute, 2/12. F16047. Minute by Street, 10/12. F.O. 371/63628 [F16113/45/62]. Minute, 13/12. F.O. 371/63628 [F16105/45/62]. Minute, 13/12. F.O. 371/63628 [F16032/45/62]. Minute by Street, 4/11. F.O. 371/63624[F14579/45/62]. C G Livengood/SofS, 4/12, Cable 503. FRUS VI, pp. 1077-8. Cable 504. FRUS VI, pp. 1078-9. Telegram, 14/12, 842. F.O. 371/63629 [F16414/45/62]. Telegram, 14/12, 843. F.O. 371/63629 [F16469/45/62]. Telegram, 15/12, 2355. F.O. 371/63629 [F16415/45/62]. Telegram, 15/12, 2351. F.O. 371/63629 [F16475/45/62]. Telegram, 15/12, 2352. F.O. 371/63629 [Fl6467/45/62]. Minute by Street, 16/12. F.O. 371/63629 [Fl6678/45/62]. Minute, 19/12. F16678. Minute, 17/12. F.O. 371/63629 [Fl6506/45/62]. Beasley/Noel-Baker, 2/12. F.O. 371/63630 [F16841/45/62]. Minute, 12/12. Fl6841.

444 350 351 352 353 354 355 356 357 358 359 360 361 362 363 364 365 366 367 368 369 370 371 372 373 374 375 376 377 378 379 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395

NOTES (PAGES 234-241) Minutes, 16, 17/12. F16841. Minute by Roberts, 22/12. F.O. 371/63630 [Fl6847/45/62]. Telegram, 19/12, 7098. F.O. 371/63629 [F16655/45/62]. Minute by Street, 22/12. Fl6655. Minute by Roberts, 18/12. F.O. 371/63629 [Fl6665/45/62]. Minute, 22/12. F.O. 371/63630 [F16846/45/62]. Telegram, 22/12, 41 Saving. F.O. 371/63630 [Fl6954/45/62]. Minute by Whitteridge, 31/12. F16954. Telegram, 26/12, 863. F.O. 371/63630 [F16811/45/62]. Telegram, 25/12, 864. F.O. 371/63630[F16812/45/62]. Evatt/Beasley, 31/12, Cable 389. AFPD I, p. 503. Burton/Officer, 23/9, Cable 127. AFPD I, pp. 321-2. Critchley/Ex.Affs, 15/12, Cable 917. AFPD I, p. 461. CG/SofS, 27/12, Cable 572. FRUS VI, pp. 1094-6. Minute, 1/8. F.O. 371/63610 [F10718/45/62]. Minute by Street, 1/9. F.O. 371/63615 [Fl 1840/45/62]. Cooper/Bevin, 30/12/46. desp.1133. F.O. 371/63451/3 [F53/5/86]. Cf Reuters, 9/1. Telegram, 12/1, 1. F.O. 371/63451 [F409/5/86]. Minute by Anderson, 13/1. F53. Minute, 13/1. F53. Minute by Anderson, 15/1. F.O. 371/53970[F18207/8/61]. Minute, 31/1. F18207. E. F. Rice-Maximin, The French Left and Indochina, 1945-54', PhD thesis, University of Wisconsin, 1974, pp. 153-5. Rice-Maximin, p. 156. q. Rice-Maximin, p. 157. Rice-Maximin, p. 158. Meiklereid/Bevin, 17/1, 10. F.O. 371/63452 [F1155/5/86]. Allen/Coulson, 27/2. F.O. 371/63453 [F2211/5/86]. The British had taken a different line in Syria. S. H. Longrigg, Syria and Lebanon under French mandate, Oxford University Press, 1958, p. 354. Telegram, 27/1, 208. F.O. 371/63452 [F1127/5/86]. Telegram, 17/1, 6 Saving. F.O. 371/63452 [F1300/5/86]. Rice-Maximin, pp. 163-4. Telegram, 29/1, 95. F.O. 371/63452 [F1249/5/86]. Minute, 5/2. F.O. 371/63452 [F1436/5/86]. Minute by E. T. Lambert, 5/2. F.O. 371/63452 [Fl 155/5/86]. Telegram, 6/2, 121. F.O. 371/63452 [F1610/5/86]. Coulson/Anderson, 13/1, 29/58/47. F.O. 371/63453 [F2211/5/86]. SofS/Embassy, 3/12, Cable 431. FRUS VI, pp. 67-68. Gallman/SofS, 7/2, Cable 865. FRUS VI, pp. 70-71. Minute by Whitteridge, 20/2. F.O. 371/63453 [F2431/5/86]. Cf Remme, pp. 80-81. Minute by Whitteridge, 12/3. F.O. 371/63453 [F3530/5/86]. Caffery/SofS, 7/3, Cable 1031. FRUS VI, pp. 78-80. Rice-Maximin, p. 164. Rice-Maximin, p. 172. Rice-Maximin, p. 223; Vu Chieu Ngu, 'Political and Social Change in Viet-nam between 1940 and 1948', PhD, University of Wisconsi, Madison, 1984, pp. 729-31. Clarke/Dening, 30/5, 29/136/47. F.O. 371/63455 [F7596/5/86]. Crowther/Allen, 29/5. F.O. 371/63455 [F7879/5/86].

NOTES (PAGES 242-246) 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 420 421

445

Minute by Street, 6/6. F7596. Minute, 23/5. F.O. 371/63455 [F6920/5/86]. Minute, 6/6. F7596. Minute, 8/7. F7596. Minute, 14/6. F7879. Stanton/SofS, 7/1, Cable 28. FRUS VI, pp. 56-7. Stanton to SofS, 13/6, 466. Cable. FRUS VI, pp. 102-3. J. E. Coulson/Allen, 25/6, 29/152/47. F.O. 371/63455 [F9009/5/86]. Minute, 16/7. F.O. 371/63577 [F9373/9373/61]. Minute by Street, 9/7. F9009. Coulson/Allen, 27/6. F9009. Gibbs/Bevin, 7/8, 105. F.O. 371/63456 [Fl 1644/5/86]. Telegram, 12/8, 211. F.O. 371/63456 [Fill 14/5/86]. Minute, 14/8. F i l l 14. Clarke/Dening, 20/8. F.O. 371/63456 [Fl 164/5/86]. Minute, 27/8. Fl 1647. Reed/SofS, 11/9, Cable 290. FRUS VI, pp.134-5; Vu Chieu Ngu, pp. 731-2. Reed/SofS, 11/9, Cable 291. FRUS VI, p. 135. Telegram, 20/9, 229. F.O. 371/63456 [F12885/5/86]. Minute, 22/9. F.O. 371/63456 [F12886/5/86]. O'Sullivan/SofS, 12/8, Cable 257. FRUS VI, pp. 131-2. Marshall/Embassy, 11/9, Cable 3433. FRUS VI, pp. 135-6. Ag SofS/CG, 19/9, Cable 160, second. FRUS VI, pp. 138-9. V-C/SofS, 24/9, Cable 301. FRUS VI, pp. 140-1. Minute, 7/10. F.O. 371/63456 [F13376/5/86]. Telegram, 10/10, 240. F.O. 371/63457 [F13785/5/86]; Vu Chieu Ngu, pp. 733-4. 422 Minutes, 13, 16, 20/10. F13785. 423 Minute by SEAD, Ho-Chi-Minh, 8/47. F.O. 371/63457 [F14438/5/86]. 424 Memorandum, in Drumright/Whitteridge, 31/10. F.O. 371/63457 [F14712/5/86]. 425 q. Gary R. Hess, The First American Commitment in Indochina: The Acceptance of the "Bao Dai Solution", 1950', Diplomatic History, 2, 4 (Fall 1978), p. 335. 426 Minutes, 6, 7/11. F14712. 427 Reed/SofS, 26/9, Cable 3/8. FRUS, pp. 141-2. 428 Rice-Maximin, p. 214. 429 Telegram, 26/11, 266, and minute, 27/11. F.O. 371/63458 [F15674/5/86]. 430 Rice-Maximin, pp. 226-7. 431 Minutes, 11, 14, 15/12. F.O. 371/63458 [F16236/5/86]. 432 Minute, 19/12. F.O. 371/63458 [F16373/5/86]. 433 Minute, 17, 23/11. F.O. 371/63458 [F15192/5/86]. 434 L. A. Niksch, 'United States foreign policy in Thailand's World War II peace settlements with Great Britain and France', PhD thesis, Georgetown University, 1976, p. 237. 435 Kobkua Suwannathat-Pian, Thailand's Durable Premier, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1995, pp. 22-23, 192. 436 Thanet Aphornsuvan, 'The United States and the Coming of the Coup of 1947 in Siam',/55, 75 (1987), p. 200. 437 Telegram, 26/3, 277. F.O. 371/63910 [F4204/1565/40]. 438 Telegram, 29/3, 289. F.O. 371/63910 [F4350/1565/40]. 439 Minute, 28/3. F4204.

446 440 441 442 443 444 445 446 447 448 449 450 451 452 453 454 455 456 457 458 459 460 461 462 463 464 465 466 467 468 469 470 471 472 473 474 475 476 477 478 479 480 481 482 483 484 485 486 487

NOTES (PAGES 246-251) Minute, 31/3. F4344. Minute, 1/4. F.O. 371/63910 [F4527/1565/40]. Minute, 2/4. F4527. Telegram, 9/4, 2110. F.O. 371/63910 [F4829/1565/40]. Telegram, 9/4, 324. F.O. 371/63910 [F4830/1565/40]. Minutes, 11/4. F4830. Telegram, 12/4, 3566. F4830. Telegram, 18/4, 2330. F.O. 371/63910 [F5401/1565/40]. Minute, 21/4. F5401. Telegram, 22/4, F.O. 371/63910 [F5618/1565/40]. Killearn/Dixon, 10/8. F.O. 371/63933 [F12866/40]. Minutes, 4/9, 16/9. F12866. Telegram, 1/9, 746. F.O. 371/63490 [F12093/2161]. E. F. Stanton, Brief Authority, Hale, London, 1957, p. 208. Kobkua, Suwannathat-Pian, p. 22. Telegram, 9/11, 911. F.O. 371/63911 [F14915/1565/40]. Telegram, 9/11, 912 F14916. Minute, 9/11. F.O. 371/65911 [F15065/1565/40]. Minute, 9/11, 11618 F14916. Telegram, 10/11, F.O. 371/63911 [F14944]. Minute, 10/11. F15065. Minute, 11/11. F14944. Minute, 12/11. F.O. 371/63911 [F15636/1565/40]. Note, 15/11. F.O. 371/63911 [F15182/1565/40]. Telegram, 11/11, 91. F.O. 371/63911 [F14974/1565/40]. Telegram, 18/11, 949. F.O. 371/63911 [F15320/1565/40]. Telegram, 19/11, 953. F.O. 371/63911 [F15371/1565/40]; Minute, 22/11. F.O. 371/63911 [F15419/1565/40]. See also Donald F. Cooper, Thailand Dictatorship or Democracy, Minerva, London, 1995, pp. 46-7. Telegram, 21/11, 961. F.O. 371/63911 [F15451/1565/40]. Minute 22/11. Fl5451. Telegrams, 25/11, 2234, 2235. F.O. 371/63912 [F15623, 15624/1565/40]. Telegram, 27/11, 516. F.O. 371/63912 [F15708/1565/40]. Telegram, 27/11, 993. F.O. 371/63912 [F15693/1565/40]. Telegram, 28/11, 2262. F.O. 371/63913 [F15783/1565/40]. Telegram, 28/11, 2265. F.O. 371/63913 [F15789/1565/40]. Minutes by Allen, 20/11, 22/11. F.O. 371/63914 [F16121, F16085/1565/ 40]. Telegrams, 28/11, 773. F.O. 371/63911 [F1545/1565/40]. Telegram, 29/11, 1002. F.O. 371/63913 [F15786/1565/40]. Minute by Palliser, 1/12. F15186. Telegram, 13/12, 792. F.O. 371/63913 [F15786/1565/40]. PQ, 19/12. F.O. 371/63915 [F16820/1565/40]. Everson/SEAD, 20/11, 693/39/47. F.O. 371/63912 [F15684/1565/40]. Minute by Palliser, 1/12. F15684. Minute, 1/12. F15654. Telegram, 3/12, 2283. F.O. 371/63913 [F15973/1565/40]. Telegram, 4/12, 1018. F.O. 371/63913 [F16030/1565/40]. Telegram, 5/12, 1020. F.O. 371/63914 [Fl6072/1565/40]. Telegram, 5/12, ?785. F16072. Telegram, 8/12, 1026. F.O. 371/63914 [F16159/1565/40], Minute, 4/12. F16202. Draft, suspended. F16202.

NOTES (PAGES 251-257) 488 489 490 491 492 493 494 495 496 497 498 499 500 501 502 503 504 505 506 507 508 509 510 511 512 513 514 515 516 517 518 519 520 521 522 523 524 525 526 527 528 529 530 531 532 533 534 535

447

Minute by Dening, 8/12. F16202. Telegram, 9/12, 787. F16159. Telegram, 9/12, 12727. F16159. Telegram, 10/12, 1029. F.O. 371/63914/14 [F16198/1565/40]. Telegram, 10/12, 1030. F.O. 371/63914 [F16199/1565/40]. Minute, 10/12. F16199. Telegram, 10/12, 1033. F.O. 371/63914 [F16230/1545/40]. Telegram, 10/12, 6926. F.O. 371/63914 [F16232/1565/40]. Telegram, 11/12, 6952. F.O. 371/63914 [F16316/1565/40]. Minute, 12/12. F16232. Minute, 15/12. F16316. Telegram, 5/12, 2310. F.O. 371/63914 [F16067/1545/40]. Minute, 10/12. F.O. 371/63914 [Fl6098/1545/40]. Minute by Allen, 2/12; Telegram, 4/12, 2579. F.O. 371/63913 [F15790/ 1565/40]. Telegram, 11/12, 2328. F.O. 371/63914 [F16310/1545/40]. Telegram, 13/12, 2338. F.O. 371/63914 [F16339/1545/40]. Telegram, 14/12, 1042. F.O. 371/63914 [Fl6338/1545/40]. F16339. Minute by Whitteridge, 18/12. F16339. Telegram, 17/12, 801. F16338. Telegram, 16/12, 1045. F.O. 371/63915 [F16486/1545/40]. Telegram, 18/12, 1055. F.O. 371/63915 [F16627/1545/40]. Telegram, 23/12, 2689. F.O. 371/63914 [Fl6340/1545/40]. Telegram, 18/12, 1053. F.O. 371/63915 [F16591/1545/40]. Telegram, 18/12, 1052. F.O. 371/63915 [Fl6588/1545/40]. Telegram, 24/12, 1068. F.O. 371/63918 [Fl 6787/1545/40]. Minute, 29/12. F.O. 371/63915 [Fl6886/1545/40]. Minute, 30/12. F16886. Telegram, 27/12, 2409. F.O. 371/63915 [F16807/1565/40]. Telegram, 28/12, 1076. F.O. 371/63915/10 [F16806/1545/40]. Telegram, 28/12, 819. F16807. Telegram, 1/1/48, 1. F.O. 371/69985 [F21/21/40]. Minutes, 2/1, 23/1. F.O. 371/63915 [F16965/1565/40]. Telegram, 11/12, 42, and minute, 18/2. F.O. 371/63869[F18l7/605/83]. Telegram, 12/3, 61 F.O. 371/63869 [F3426/605/83]. Telegrams, 12/4, 87; 19/4, 95. F.O. 371/63870 [F4998, 5337/605/83]. Telegram, 18/4, 92, and minute, 21/4. F.O. 371/63870 [F5375/605/83]. Telegram, 17/4, 93. F.O. 371/63870[F5376/605/83]. Telegram, 24/4, 99, and minute, 28/4. F.O. 371/63870 [F5665/605/83]. Telegrams, 24/4,100,101. F.O. 371/63870 [F5666, 5667/605/83]. Foulds/ Bevin, 21/4, and draft. F.O. 371/63870 [F6352/605/83]. Carmichael/Tomlinson, 8/5. F.O. 371/63870 [F6433/605/83]. Bennett/Tomlinson, 8/5. F.O. 371/63870 [F6434/605/83]. Jones/Beckett, 2/5. CO. 537/2181. Memorandum, 14/5; Beckett/Roberts Wray, 30/5. F.O. 371/63870 [F6157/605/83]. Minute, 4/6. F.O. 371/63871 [F7843/605/83]. Minute, 23/5. F.O. 371/63870 [F6352/605/83]. Foulds/Bevin, 24/4, 65. F.O. 371/63871 [F6682/605/83]. Minute by Tomlinson, 24/5. F.O. 371/63871 [F7001/605/83]. Telegram, 21/5, 118. F.O. 371/63870 [F6607/605/83].

448 536 537 538 539 540 541 542 543 544 545 546 547 548 549 550 551 552 553 554 555

NOTES (PAGES 257-267) Minute, 3/6. F.O. 371/63871 [F7738/605/83]. Minute, 4/6. F.O. 371/63871 [F7843/605/83]. MacDermot/Foulds, 23/6. F.O. 371/63871 [F7842/605/83]. Minute, 4/6. F7843. Dening/Quirino, 6/6, and draft. F.O. 371/63871 [F7738/605/83]. MacDermot/Foulds, 25/6. F7842. MacDermot/Foulds, 30/6. F.O. 371/63871 [F7738/605/83]. Chancery/Japan and Pacific Dept, 23/7. F.O. 371/63872 [F10133/605/83]. Foulds/MacDermot, 29/7. F.O. 371/63872 [Fl 1460/605/83]. Minute, 21/8. Fl 1460. Telegram, 21/10, 193. F.O. 371/63873 [F14151/605/83]. Telegram, 21/10, 194. F.O. 371/63873 [F14191/605/83]. Minutes, 6, 8, 11/11. F.O. 371/63871 [F7738/605/83]. Minute, 18/3. F.O. 371/63874 [F15613/605/83]. Telegram, 24/1, 28. F.O. 371/63869 [F999/605/83]. Telegram, 16/5, 113. F.O. 371/63871 [F6719/605/83]. Foulds/Bevin, 9/10,186 and enclosures. F.O. 371/63874 [F14956/605/83]. Noble, p. 52. Besides the 1878 agreement, the company had made one in 1903. Tarling, Sulu, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1978, pp. 302ff. Telegram, 21/10, 192. F.O. 371/63873 [F14160/605/83]. Whiteley/Tomlinson, 24/11. CO. 537/2181. 5 The impact of communism

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

q. V. Rothwell, Britain and the Cold War, Cape, London, 1982, p. 442. CP(48) 6, 4/1, printed in A. N. Porter and A.J. Stockwell, eds, British

Imperial Policy and Decolonization 1938-64, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1987, I,

pp. 293-5. Rothwell, in J. Zametica, British Foreign Policy, Leicester University Press, 1990, p. 170. q. Warner, in Ritchie Ovendale, ed., Foreign Policy, Leicester University Press, 1984, p. 66. Rothwell, in Zametica, p. 171. Cf. Kent, in M. S. Dockrill and J. W. Young, eds, British Foreign Policy, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1989, pp. 58ff. P. Edwards, Crises and Commitments, Allen and Unwin, Sydney, 1992, p. 18. q. Warner, in Becker, pp. 31-32. Rothwell, in Zametica, p. 172. D. W. Ellwood, Rebuilding Europe, Longman, London, 1992, p. 103. Rothwell, p. 173. D. C. Watt, Succeedingjohn Bull, Cambridge University Press, 1984, p. 121. Rothwell, in Zametica, pp. 173-4. This paraphrases Bonar Law. A. P. Thornton, Imperialism in the Twentieth Century, Macmillan, London, 1978, p. 88. Fieldhouse, in Ovendale, p. 91. A. Inder Singh, The Limits of British Influence, Pinter, London, and St Martin's, New York, 1993, pp. 31-34. R. McVey, The Calcutta Conference, Cornell University, Ithaca, 1958, p.16. Memorandum by P. F. Grey, 7/7/48. F.O. 371/69769 [F9629/5/62]. Telegrams, 28/1. F.O. 371/69686 [F1488/286/61]. Minute by Dening, 19/2; Dening/Seel, 20/2. F.O. 371/69686 [F1721/ 286/61].

NOTES (PAGES 267-279)

449

21 Minute, 15/4. F.O. 371/69689 [F5858/286/61]. 22 Minute, 15/3. F.O. 371/69688 [F4249/286/61]. 23 Telegram, 25/1, 58. F.O. 371/70021 [F1311/124/40]. 24 Minute by Street, 27/1. F1311. 25 Scrivener/Dening, 14/4. F.O. 371/69689 [F5922/286/61]. 26 Minutes, 27/4, 13, 17/5. F5922. 27 A. Short, The Communist Insurrection, Muller, London, 1975, p. 94. 28 Minute by Lloyd, 17/7. F.O. 371/69694 [F10350/727/61]. 29 Minute, 15/3. F4249. 30 PMM (48) 3rd, 12/10. CAB 133/88. D.O. 35/2858. 31 PMM (48) 4th, 12/10. CAB 133/88. 32 FE (O) 48, 8th, 4/12. CAB 134/285. 33 FE (O) 48, 9th, 8/12. CAB134/285. 34 FE (O) 48 (34) (Revise), 10/12. CAB 134/285. Also in CP(48) 299, 9/12. CAB 129/31. 35 CM(48) 80th, 13/12. CAB 128/13. 36 Minute, 2/1/48. F.O. 371/69469 [F2029/17/79]. 37 Minutes, 9/2, 9/2, nd. F.O. 371/69469 [F234/17/79]. 38 Note in F.O. 371/69474 [F10675/17/79]. 39 Bowker/Bevin, 26/5, 178. F.O. 371/69472 [F7806/17/79]. Cf J. F. Cady, A History of Modern Burma, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1958, pp. 586-7. 40 Minute, 5/6. F7806. 41 Minutes, 2/6, 2/6, n.d., 9/6. F.O. 371/69472 [F8360/17/79]. 42 CP (48) 149, 11/6. F.O. 371/69472 [F8510/17/79]. 43 CM (48) 39th, 14/6, 3. CAB 128/12. 44 Minute, 10/6. F.O. 371/69472 [F8462/17/79]. 45 Minute, 10/6. F8462. 46 Telegrams, 16/6, 506, 507, 508. F.O. 371/69472 [F8511/17/79]. 47 Telegram, 16/6, 485. F.O. 371/69472 [F8456/17/79]. 48 Telegrams, 17/6, 490; 18/6, 493. F.O. 371/69472 [F8484, 8537/17/79]. 49 Minute, 16/6. F.O. 371/69472 [F8475/17/79]. 50 Minute, 16/6. F.O. 371/69472 [F8615/17/79]. 51 Minute by Grey, 22/6. F.O. 371/69472 [F8357/17/79]. 52 Minute, 22/6. F8357. 53 Minute by Murray, 22/7. F.O. 371/69474 [F10342/17/79]. 54 Conversation with Tin Tut, 28/7. F.O. 371/69474 [F10553/17/79]. 55 CAB (48) 15, 28/7. F.O. 371/69472 [F8446/17/79]. 56 Telegram, 13/8, X139. F.O. 371/69474 [Fl 1155/17/79]. 57 Memorandum, 13/8. F.O. 371/69518 [Fl 1547/1371/79]. 58 Minute, 16/8. F.O. 371/69475 [F12721/17/79]. 59 Memorandum, British Policy towards Burma, 19/8. F12721. 60 Telegram, 21/8, 760. F.O. 371/69518 [Fl 1563/1371/79]. 61 F.O. 371/69518 [F11564/1371/79]. 62 Minute, 2/9. Fl 1564. 63 Cancelled draft, 9/48. Fl 1564. 64 Morris/Murray, 31/8. F.O. 371/69518 [Fl 1957/1371/79]. 65 Westerfield/Murray, 7/9. F.O. 371/69519 [F12970/1371/79]. 66 Minute, 9/9. F12970. 67 F12970. 68 Telegram, 13/10, 999. F.O. 371/69521 [F15665/1371/79]. 69 Minute by Grey, 22/10. F.O. 371/69521 [F15665/1371/79]. 70 Minute by Stevenson, 28/10. F.O. 371/69521 [F15295/1371/79]. 71 Minute by Rees-Williams, 28/10. F.O. 371/69521 [F15379/1371/79].

450 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121

NOTES (PAGES 279-285) Minute, 8/11. F15379. Mountbatten/Dening, 6/11. F.O. 371/69521 [F16061/1371/79]. Grey/Bowker, 17/11, confidential. F.O. 371/69521 [F15279/1371/79]. Telegram, 4/12, 1172. F.O. 371/69522 [Fl7078/1371/79]. C.R.O. communication, 7/1. F.O. 371/69753 [F785/5/62]. Minute by Roberts, 10/1/48. F785. Minutes, 21/1, 22/1. F785. Drummond, 'Britain's Involvement in Indonesia', PhD thesis, Southampton University, 1979, pp. 171-2. Livengood/SofS, 16/4, 308, Cable. FRUS 1948 VI, p. 147. F.O. 371/69764 [F7623/5/62]. Shepherd/Dening, 21/5. F.O. 371/69764 [F7589/5/62]. Minute by Grey, 31/5. F.O. 371/69764 [F8175/5/62]. Minute by Grey, 3/6. F.O. 371/69764 [F8178/5/62]. Telegram, 4/6, 722 saving. F8178. Telegram, 11/6. 2769 F.O. 371/69765 [F8254/5/62]. SofS/Embassy, 12/6, Cable 243. FRUS VI, p. 240. Livengood/SofS, 11/6, 493. FRUS VI, p. 236. Minute, 16/6. F.O. 371/69765 [F8405/5/62]. Minute, 19/6. F.O. 371/69765 [F8525/5/62]. Minute, 9/6. F.O. 371/69765 [F8436/5/62]. Memorandum, 15/6. F.O. 371/69765 [F8530/5/62]. 16/6.F8530. Telegram, 21/6, 1787. F.O. 371/69766 [F8640/5/62]. Memorandum of Telephone conversation, 23/6. FRUS VI, p. 262. Minute, 29/6. F.O. 371/69767 [F8885/5/62]. Telegram, 26/6, 238. F.O. 371/69767 [F9049/5/62]. Memorandum, 24/6. F.O. 371/69767 [F9211/5/62]. Telegram, 7/7, 7365. F.O. 371/69768 [F9476/5/62]. Telegram, 9/7, 3354. F.O. 371/69768 [F9574/5/62]. Note, 2/7. F.O. 371/69769 [F9726/5/62]. Minute by Grey, 8/7. F.O. 371/69769 [F9726/5/62]. Minute by McAlpine, 17/7. F.O. 371/69769 [F10135/5/62]; D.O. 35/2580. Record of Conversation, 19/7. F.O. 371/69770 [F10515/5/62]. Cf Brief, 17/7. F.O. 371/69694 [F10350/727/61]. Minute, 27/7. F.O. 371/69770 [F10514/5/62]. Conversation, 27/7. F.O. 371/69770 [F10514/5/62]. Telegram, 26/7, 470. F.O. 371/69770 [F10514/5/62]. Minute by Grey, 7/8. F.O. 371/69771 [Fl 1304/5/62]. Bevin/Nichols, 16/8, 318. F11304. Minute by Noel-Baker, 23/7. D.O. 35/2850. Bevin/Nichols, 12/8, 314. F.O. 371/16977 [F11205/5/62]; D.O. 35/2850. CM(48) 56th, 16/8, 5. D.O. 35/2850. Telegram, 21/8, 2407. D.O. 35/2850; F.O. 371/69772 [Fl 1796/5/62]. Telegram, 23/8, 2904. D.O. 35/2850; F11796. Aide-memoire, 25/8. D.O. 35/2850. Minute, 2/9. D.O. 35/2850. Minute by Mackworth-Young, 1/9. F.O. 371/69772 [F12007/5/62]. Telegram, 31/8, 167 Saving. F.O. 371/69772 [F12233/5/62]. Minute, 7/9. F12233. Telegram, 3/9, 143 Saving. F.O. 371/69772 [F12369/5/62]. Telegram, 26/8, 4088. F.O. 371/69772 [Fl 1951/5/62].

NOTES (PAGES 285-291) 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132

133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166

451

Note, n.d. EO. 371/69773 [F12580/5/62]. Telegram, 13/9, 1053. F12580. Minute, 13/9. F.O. 371/69773 [F12644/5/62]. Note, 6/8. F.O. 371/69771 [Fl 1066/5/62]. Minute, 7/8. Fl 1066. Telegram, 31/8, 370. F.O. 371/69772 [Fl 1984/5/62]. Telegram, 31/8, 369. Fl 1984. Minute, 11/9. F.O. 371/69772 [F12249/5/62]. Telegram, 21/9, 557. F.O. 371/69773 [F13055/5/62]. Telegram, 4/9, 531. F12249. G. Kahin, Nationalism and Revolution, Ithaca, Cornell University Press, 1952, pp. 291-2; Ann Swift, The Road toMadiun: The Indonesian Communist Uprising

of 1948, Cornell University Modern Indonesia Project, Ithaca, 1989, pp. 73ff. Minute, 22/9. F13055. ANEP/ANETABullletin, 21/9. F.O. 371/19774[F13379/5/62]. q. M. Rose, Indonesia Free, Modern Indonesia Project, Cornell University, 1987, p. 150. Menon/Attlee, 22/9. D.O. 35/2850. Attlee/Menon, 22/9. D.O. 35/2850. Minute, 22/9. F.O. 371/69774 [F13346/5/62]. CG Livengood/SofS, 20/9, Cable 811. FRUS VI, p. 356. A. J. S. Reid, The Indonesian National Revolution, Longman, Hawthorn, 1974, pp. 143-6. Minute by Grey, 30/9. F.O. 371/69775 [F13744/5/62]. Bevin/Gage, 1/10, 401. F.O. 371/69775 [F13818/5/62]. Telegrams, 3/10, 150, 152. F13818. Extract, Record of Conversation, 4/10. F.O. 371/69777 [F14666/5/62]; Telegram, 15/10, 11338. F.O. 371/69776 [F14200/5/62]. Memorandum, 4/10. FRUS VI, pp. 383-4. Minute by Grey, 13/10. F.O. 371/69777 [F14479/5/62]. Minute by Grey, 13/10. F14479. Telegram, 11/10, 4776. F.O. 371/69776 [F14200/5/62]. Telegram, 15/10, 11337. F14200. Telegram, 20/10, 4897. F.O. 371/69777 [F14682/5/62]. Minute, 13/10. F14475. Telegram, 25/10, 3429. F.O. 371/69778 [F15045/5/62]. Memorandum by Roberts, 26/10. F.O. 371/65778 [F15180/5/62]. Memorandum by Roberts, 27/10. F.O. 371/69779 [F15431/5/62]. Minute by Lloyd, 28/10. F.O. 371/69778 [F15320/5/62]. Conversation at George V Hotel, 27/10. D.O./2850. Telegram, 30/10, 640. F.O. 371/69778 [F15166/5/62]. n.d. F.O. 371/69779 [F15487/5/62]. Minute, 5/11. F.O. 371/69779 [F15414/5/62]. Shepherd/Dening, 4/11, 18/50/48. F.O. 371/69780 [F15939/5/62]. Minute, 11/11. F.O. 371/69780 [F15802/5/62]. Telegram, 8/11, 3891. D.O. 35/2850. Attlee/Nehru, 11/11. D.O. 35/2850; F.O. 371/69780 [F16000/5/62]. Minute by Grey, 11/11. F.O. 371/69780 [F16001/5/62]. Telegram, 19/11, 667. F.O. 371/69780 [F16296/5/62]. Minute, 21/11. F16296. Telegram, 20/11, 434. F.O. 371/69780 [F16384/5/62].

452 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213

NOTES (PAGES 291-297) Minutes, 23/11,23/11. Fl 6384. Telegram, 24/11,500. Fl 6384. Telegram, 24/11, 671. F.O. 371/69781 [F16514/5/62]. Telegram, 4/12, 684. F.O. 371/69781 [F17085/5/62]. Telegram, 6/12, 687. F.O. 371/69781 [Fl7096/5/62]. Minute, 6/12. F.O. 371/69782 [F17579/ 5/62]. Minute, 6/12. F17579. Telegram, 6/12, 513. F17085. Minute, 7/12. F17579. Telegram, 8/12, 520. F.O. 371/69781 [Fl7213/5/62]. Telegram, 7/12, 1372. F.O. 371/69781 [F17096]. Aide-memoire, 7/12. FRUS VI, pp. 531-5. Ag SofS/CG, 4/12, Cable 614. FRUS p. 517. Charge Steere/SofS, 7/12, Cable 827. FRUS VI, p. 530. Minute by Mackworth Young, 14/12. F.O. 371/69782 [Fl7667/5/62]. Steere/SofS, 8/12, Cable 834. FRUS VI, pp. 539-41. Telegram, 9/12, 470. F.O. 371/69782 [Fl7424/5/62]. Telegram, 11/12, 13105 F17424. Minute by Wakeley, 10/12. D.O. 35/2850. BIO - Bewind Indonesia in Overgangstijd: Government Indonesia during Transition Period. Schiller, p. 54. Minute, 14/12. F17667. Minute, 11/12. F.O. 371/69787 [F18371/5/62]. Minute by Roberts, 13/12. F18371. Telegram, 13/12, 13157. F17424. Lovett/CG, 14/12, Cable 651. FRUS VI, pp. 559-60. Telegram, 3/12, 5684. F.O. 371/69782 [Fl7616/5/62]. Telegram, 15/12, 1414. F17616. CG/SofS, 12/12, Cable 1084. FRUS VI, pp. 549-50. CG/SofS, 13/12, Cable 1090. FRUS VI, pp. 552-3. Telegram, 14/12, 699. F.O. 371/69782 [F17673/5/62]. Ag SofS/CG, 14/12, Cable 650. FRUS VI, pp. 558-9. Cable 651, as above. Telegram, 15/12, 1417. F17616. Telegram, 15/12, 483. F.O. 371/69783 [Fl 7743/5/62]. Telegram, 16/12, 487. F.O. 371/69783 [Fl7836/5/62]. Telegram, 16/12, 486. F.O. 371/69783 [Fl7837/5/62]. Telegrams, 17/12, 1426, 543. F17837. Telegram, 17/12, 493. F.O. 371/69783 [F17902/5/62]. G. Kahin, pp. 337-8. Shepherd/Bevin, 13/12, Desp 155. F.O. 371/69784 [F18003/5/62]. Cable 834, at p.540. Baruch/SofS, 21/12, Cable 890. FRUS 1948 VI, p. 596. Minute, 8/1. F.O. 371/69985 [F423/21/40]. Thompson/Dening, 4/1/48, 7/55/48. F.O. 371/69985 [F743/21/40]. Telegram, 13/1, 28. F.O. 371/69985 [F735/21/40]. Minute, 16/1. F735. Minute, 20/1. F735. Kobkua, Suwannathat-Pian, Thailand's Durable Premier, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1995, p. 58. Minute, 9/2. F.O. 371/69986 [F1980/21/40]. Minute, 11/2. F.O. 371/69986 [F2414/21/40]; Telegram, 12/2, 69. F.O. 371/69986 [F2192/21/40].

NOTES (PAGES 297-302) 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264

453

Telegram, 10/2, 111. F2192. Telegram 10/2, 636. EO. 371/69986 [F2203/21/40]. Telegram, 13/2, 1805. F.O. 371/69986 [F2414/21/40]. Telegram, 16/2, 754. F.O. 371/69987 [F2491/21/40]. Telegram, 16/2, 169. F.O. 371/69986 [F2462/21/40]. Telegram, 17/2, 130. F.O. 371/69987 [F2539/21/40]. Telegram, 27/2, 155. F.O. 371/69987 [F3129/21/40]. Telegram, 5/3, 177. F.O. 371/69988 [F3583/21/40]. CM (48) 20th, 8/3. CAB 128/13. Minute by Whitteridge, 1/4. EO. 371/69990 [F5226/21/40]. Minute, 17/3. F.O. 371/69989 [F4111/21/40]. Telegram, 8/4, 249. F.O. 371/69990 [F5159/21/40]. Telegram, 9/4, 252. F.O. 371/69990 [F5252/21/40]. Telegram, 9/4, 257. F.O. 371/69990 [F5263/21/40]. Minute by Palliser, 12/4. F.O. 371/69991 [F5435/21/40]. Telegram, 13/4, 4092. F.O. 371/69991 [F5264/21/40]. Telegram, 21/4, 283. EO. 371/69991/8 [F5851/21/40]. Telegram, 22/4, 4428. F.O. 371/69991/6 [F5589/21/40]. Telegram, 23/4, 284. EO. 371/69991 [F5980/21/40]. Telegram, 24/4, 198. F5980. Telegram, 27/4, 290. F.O. 371/69992 [F6143/21/40]; Telegram, 28/4, 205. F.O. 371/69992 [F6612/21/40]. Minute, 12/2. EO. 371/7002 [F2494/1247/40]. Memorandum, 4/3. F.O. 371/70021 [F3512/124/40]; FE(O) (48) 4, 5/3. CAB 134/285. FE(O) (48) 1st, 8/3, 1. CAB134/285. Memorandum by Whitteridge, 1/4. EO. 371/69990 [F5226/21/40]. Minute, 9/4. F.O. 371/70022 [F5530/247/40]. Kobkua, Suwannathat-Pian, pp. 194-5. Brief, 24/5. F.O. 371/70022 [F7535/1247/40]. Telegram, 3/7, 15 Saving. F.O. 371/70022 [F9566/1247/40]. Minute by Palliser, 12/7. F9566. Telegram, 19/7, 452. EO. 371/70022 [F10046/1247/40]. Minute by Palliser, 21/7. F10046. Telegram, 20/10, 691. F.O. 371/70025 [F14786/1247/40]. Minute by McAlpine, 25/5. EO. 800/462. Minute byj. O. Lloyd, 6/9. F.O. 371/70024 [F12697/1247/40]. Brief, 9/9. F.O. 371/70024 [F12773/1247/40]. Aide-memoire, 10/9. EO. 371/70023 [F12609/1247/40]. Grey/Thompson, 30/10. F.O. 371/70025 [F14602/124/40]. FE (O) (48) 1st, 8/3, 1. CAB 134/285. FE (O) (48) 6th, 22/9, 1. CAB 134/285. Waterfield/Lloyd, 22/9. F.O. 371/70024 [F13308/1247/40]. Lloyd/Wakeley, 1/10. EO. 371/70024 [F13286/1247/40]. Telegram, 30/11, 807. F.O. 371/70025 [F16878/1247/40]. Minute, 3/12. F16878. Telegram, 17/12, 844. EO. 371/70026 [F17991/1247/40]. Minute, 22/12. F17991. Minute by Dening, 2/1. F.O. 371/69653B [F255/255/86]. Clarke/Dening, 14/1, 42/4/48. EO. 371/69653B [F943/255/86]. Minute, 20/1. F943. Harvey/Attlee, 16/1, 38. F.O. 371/69653B [F1048/255/86]. Minute, 24/1. F.O. 371/69653B [Fl 130/255/86].

454 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315

NOTES (PAGES 302-308) Minute by Whitteridge, 26/3. RO. 371/69654 [F4210/255/86]. Memorandum, 21/2. FRUS VI, p. 20. Memorandum by Stanton, 24/2. FRUS VI, pp. 21-23. Graves/SEAD, 19/3, 327/4/48. F.O. 371/69654 [F4531/255/86]. Minute, 1/4. F4531. Minute, 8/4. F4531. Telegram, 13/4, 50. F4531. SEAD/Chancery, 14/4. F4531. Ashley-Clarke/Attlee, 28/3/49, No 194. F.O. 371/75961 [F4718/1015/86]. Minute, 24/5. F.O. 371/69655 [F7381/255/86]. Gibbs/Bevin, 11/5, 59. F.O. 371/69655 [F7187/255/86]. Minute by Mackworth Young, 26/5. F7187. Minute, 4/6. F7187. Minute, 7/6. F.O. 371/6965 [F7799/255/86]. A. B. Cole, Conflict in Indo-China, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1956, p. 72. Rice-Maximin, p. 227. SofS/Embassy in France, 14/7, Cable 2637. FRUS VI, p.33. Clarke/Dening, 14/7, 42/86/48. F10042. Minute by Mackworth Young, 23/7. F.O. 371/69657 [F10042/255/86]. SofS circular Cable, 29/1. FRUS 1948 VI, p. 19. Report by A. Sarell, 17/6. F.O. 371/69657 [F9145/255/86]. Note by Sarell, 29/6. F.O. 371/69657 [F9461/255/86]. Minute byj. A. Pilcher, 8/7. F.O. 371/69657 [F9515/255/86]. Note by D. W. Pepper, n.d. F9145. Minute, 3/7. F9145. Minute, 7/7. F9145. Minute, 14/7. F9145. Brief for SofS, 26/7. F.O. 371/69657 [F10613/255/86]. Selby/Walsh Atkins, 30/7. F.O. 371/69657 [Fl 1028/255/86]. Lloyd/James, 26/8. Fl 1028. Minute by Mackworth Young, 4/8. F.O. 371/69657 [F10612/255/86]. Clarke/Grey, 28/7, 42/91/48. F10612. Grey/Gibbs, 9/8. F10612. Report, 5/8. F.O. 371/69657 [F11775/255/81]. Gibbs/Bevin, 10/8, 87. F.O. 371/69657 [F11310/255/86]. Clarke/Attlee, 28/3/49. F4718. Telegram, 21/8, 162 Saving. F.O. 371/69657 [Fl 1803/255/86]. Chancery/Western Dept, 24/8, 42/101/48, F.O. 371/69657 [F11899/ 255/86]. Gibbs/Bevin, 24/8, 91. F.O. 371/69657 [F12102/255/86]. Gibbs/Grey, 25/8, P & C. F.O. 371/69657 [F12143/255/86]. SofS/Embassy, 30/8, Cable 3368. FRUS VI, p. 40. CG/SofS, 7/9, Cable 194. FRUS VI, pp. 41-42. Ditto, 9/9, A-76. FRUS VI, p. 42. Telegram, 29/9, No.8 Saving. F.O. 371/69658 [F13855/255/86]. Gibbs/Bevin, 5/10, desp. 104. F.O. 371/69658 [F14259/255/86]. Clarke/Dening, 20/10, 42/138/48. F.O. 371/69658 [F14890/255/86]. Minute by Mackworth Young, 4/11. F.O. 371/69658 [F15349/255/86]. Caffery/SofS, 1/11, Cable 5657. FRUS VI, pp. 52-53. Dening/Clarke, 22/11. F.O. 371/69659 [F16519/255/86]. Telegram, 23/11, 1699. F.O. 371/69659 [F16490/255/86]. Telegram, 12/11, 5189. F.O. 371/69658 [F15982/255/86].

NOTES (PAGES 308-313) 316 317 318 319 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 339 340 341 342 343 344 345 346 347 348 349 350 351 352 353 354 355 356 357 358 359 360 361 362

455

Minute by Mackworth Young, 16/11. F15982. Dening/Clarke, 22/11. F16519. Graves/Dening, 7/12. F.O. 371/69659 [F18068/255/86]. Clarke/Dening, 6/12, 42/178/48. F.O. 371/69659 [Fl7486/255/86]. Telegram, 7/12, 1794. F.O. 371/69659 [Fl7215/255/86]. Memorandum, 16/12. F.O. 371/69659 [F1806/255/86]. Dening/Templer, 18/12. F.O. 371/75960 [F1539/1015/86]. Minute, 30/12. F.O. 371/76002 [F623/1016/61]. Minute, 12/5/48. F.O. 371/69975 [F6987/585/83]. Telegram, 14/1, F.O. 371/69976 [F814/814/83]. Minute, 21/1. CO. 537/4255. Telegrams, 5/5, 52, 53. F.O. 371/69976 [F6584, 6585/814/83]. Minute, 13/5. C.O. 537/4255. Telegram, 6/9, 17 Saving. F.O. 371/69976 [F13046/814/83]. Telegram, 29/12, C.O. 537/4255. Note by Todd, 28/10/47. C.O. 537/4794. Minutes by Lees, 10/11/47; by Palmer, 21/11. C.O. 537/4794. M. R. Stenson, Repression and Revolt, Ohio University Southeast Asia Program, Athens, 1969, pp. 23-24. R. Stubbs, Hearts and Minds in Guerrilla Warfare, Oxford University Press, Singapore, 1989, p. 20. Donald M. Nonini, British Colonial Rule and the Resistance of the Malay Peasantry, 1900-1957, Yale University Press, New Haven, 1992, pp. 110-11. Stubbs, pp. 55, 57-59. Stubbs, p. 59. q. A. Short, p. 51. Stubbs, p. 60. Short, p. 53. q. Stubbs, p. 61. Stubbs, p. 61. Stubbs, p. 62. Stubbs, p. 68. Stubbs, p. 69. Telegram, 19/12/48. q. Stubbs, p. 75. q. Stubbs, p. 75. q. Short, p. 264. Telegram, 10/7, 118 Saving. F.O. 371/69697 [F9908/1280/61]. Minute, 17/7, F.O. 371/69697 [F9554/1280/61]. Minute by Roberts, 17/7. F9554. Short, p. 94. Telegram, 29/7/48, 3720. F.O. 371/69697 [F10586/1280/61]. Telegram, 29/7, 3721. F.O. 371/69697 [F10592/1280/61]. Minute, 12/8. F.O. 371/69698 [Fl 1360/1280/61]. Minute, 28/7. F.O. 371/69697 [F10548/1280/61]. Enclosure in Noel-Baker to Evatt, 18/8. F.O. 371/69698 [Fl 160/1280/61]. Minute by McAlpine, 18/8. F11601; Minutes by Dening, 17/8. F.O. 371/ 69698 [Fl 1602/1280/61]. Roger Buckley, Occupation Diplomacy, Cambridge University Press, 1982, chs. 5, 9. Minute, 13/10. F.O. 371/69698 [F15014/1280/61]. Cf Malcolm H. Murfett, In Jeopardy, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1995, pp. 76-78. Edwards, pp. 33, 43-45. Edwards, p. 48.

456

NOTES (PAGES 313-324)

363 q. Kaplan, in A. Deighton, ed., Britain and the First Cold War, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1990, p.204.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40

6 Commonwealth and Colombo COS (49) 29, 20/1. DEFE 5/13. Minute, 9/5. F.O. 371/76033 [F6563/1073/61]. A. Inder Singh, The Limits of British Influence, Pinter, London, and St Martin's, New York, 1993, p. 44. Singh in A. Deighton, ed., Britain and the First Cold War, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1990, p. 222. William Strang, Home and Abroad, Deutsch, London, 1956, p. 240. Singh, Limits, p. 43. R. J. Moore, Making the New Commonwealth, Clarendon, Oxford, 1987, pp. 168-70. Adamthwaite, in J. Becker and F. Knipping, eds, Power in Europe, de Gruyter, Berlin, 1986, p. 17. q. ibid., p. 18. Ovendale, in ibid., p. 224. q. Rothwell, in J. Zametica, ed., British Foreign Policy, Leicester University Press, 1990, p. 177. FRUS 1949 I (1976), pp. 757ff; 1950 I (1977), pp. 846ff. Telegram, 20/12, 1803. F.O. 371/69547 [Fl7714/33/10]. Telegram, 10/12, 1252. F17714. Telegrams, 14/1. F.O. 371/76003 [F1507, 1508/1017/61]. Telegram, 26/1, 79, and minutes. F.O. 371/76003 [F1507/1017/61]. Telegram, 18/2, 130. F.O. 371/76003 [F2596/1017/61]. Telegram, 19/2, 131, and minute. F.O. 371/76003 [F2636/1017/61]. Minute by Blackham, 21/2. F2596. Graves/Scarlett, 7/2, G47/49, Secret. F.O. 371/76003 [F2415/1017/61]. Dening/Graves, 14/2. F2415. Graves/Dening, 21/2, G47/49. F.O. 371/76003 [F3215/1017/61]. Note by Graves, 23/2. F.O. 371/76003 [F3271/1017/61]. Cf Memorandum, 23/2. FRUS 1949 VII 2, pp. 1118-19. Minute, 8/3. F3215. Note by Graves, 23/2 as above. F3271. Dening/Syers, 18/3. F.O. 371/76023 [F4486/1023/61]. Draft, F4486. Minute, 23/3. F.O. 371/76023 [F4487/1023/61]. Memorandum, 4/4. FRUS 1949 VII, p. 1139. FRUS, VII 2, pp. 1135-7. Graves/Dening, 16/4, G47/37/49. F.O. 371/76023 [F5743/1023/61]. Report. Mansergh, Documents, II, pp. 1177-9. Mansergh, p. 1179. Minute by Wakeley, 27/1. D.O. 35/2858. Telegram, 31/1, X197. D.O. 35/2858. Minutes, 31/1. D.O. 35/2858. Minute, 2/2. D.O. 35/2858. Cf Telegram from Peterson, 1/2/49, 84. F.O. 371/76147 [F1812/1071/62]. Minute, 22/2. D.O. 35/2858. Minutes, 2/2, 2/2. D.O. 35/2858. Minute, 3/2. D.O. 35/2858.

NOTES (PAGES 324-336)

457

41 Minute, 18/2. D.O. 35/2858. 42 Minute, 19/2. D.O. 35/2858. 43 Minute, 22/2. D.O. 35/2858. 44 SAC (49) 10, 20/7/49. CAB 134/669. 45 Machtig/Brook, 3/11/48. D.O. 35/2796. 46 Minutes by Liesching, Gordon-Walker, 26/1, 27/1. D.O. 35/2796. 47 Minute by Cumming Bruce, 18/2. D.O. 35/2796. 48 Minute by Bevin, 19/2. D.O. 35/2796. 49 Extract of record of meeting at 10 Downing Street, 22/2. D.O. 35/2796. 50 MacDonald/Dening, 15/3, 59/66/49. F.O. 371/76031 [F5016/1072/61]. 51 MacDonald/Bevin, 23/3, 402/22/49. F.O. 371/76031 [F4545/1072/61]. 52 Telegram, 22/3, 234. D.O. 35/2796. 53 Grafftey-Smith/Liesching, 3/3/49. D.O. 35/2861. 54 Minute, 29/3. F.O. 371/76031 [F2191/1072/61]. 55 Maclennan/Dening, 21/3. F.O. 371/76023 [F4486/1023/61 ]. 56 Dening/Syers, 4/4. F2191. 57 Minute, 14/4. F.O. 371/76031 [F8035/1072/61]. 58 Minute, 21/4, P.M.49/71. F.O. 371/76031 [F5863/1072/61]. 59 Minute, 9/5. F.O. 371/76031 [F5863/1072/61]. 60 MacDonald/Strang, 3/4; reply, 22/4, 534. F.O. 371/76031 [F5864/1072/ 61]. 61 Paskin/Dening, 22/4, 55425/49. F.O. 371/76031 [F8037/1072/61]. 62 Garner/Dening, 25/4, F2320/16. F.O. 371/76032 [F8039/1072/61 ]. 63 Minute, 18/5. F.O. 371/76036 [F7432/1077/61]. 64 Minute, 19/5. F.O. 371/76009 [F7516/10110/61]. 65 Minutes of a meeting with Mr MacDonald and Sir A. Nye, 24/5. F.O. 371/ 76034 [F8338/1075/61]. 66 SAC (49) 10, 20/7. CAB 134/669. 67 SAC (49) 6th, 22/7. CAB 134/669. 68 Telegram, 13/6, 710. F.O. 371/76089 [F8866/10110/61]. 69 Telegram, 24/10, 1379. F.O. 371/76010 [F15495/10110/61]. 70 CP (49) 207. This is not in CAB 129/37 Pt. 1. But PUSC 32 and 53, of which it was an amalgam, are in F.O. 371/76030 [F17397/1055/61]. 71 Bevin/Attlee, 18/12, 48/113. F.O. 800/462. 72 Report on Tour, 27/2, para. 71. F.O. 371/76028 [F4447/1051/61]; CP (49) 67, 17/3. CAB 129/33 Pt. 2; PREM 8/950. 73 Minute, 22/10, M193/49. F.O. 371/76030 [F15857/1055/61]. 74 CM (49) 62nd, 27/10, 8. CAB 128/16. 75 Telegram, 31/10, 431. F.O. 371/76010 [F16233/10110/61]. 76 Telegram, 6/11, 928. F.O. 371/76010 [F16631/10110/61]. CP (49) 244, 26/11. CAB 129/37. 77 Minute, 17/10. D.O. 35/2769. 78 Memorandum, 7/11. D.O. 35/2769. 79 Record of Conversation, 8/11. D.O. 35/2769. 80 Telegram, 16/11, Y429. D.O. 35/2769. 81 Telegram, 23/11, Y450. D.O. 35/2770. 82 EPC (49) 152,1/12. CAB 134/223; FE (O) (49) 86, 7/1/50. CAB 134/288. 83 EPC (49) 51st, 13/12. CAB 134/220. 84 SAC (49) 8th, 16/12. CAB 134/669. 85 FE (O) (49) 81, Final, 15/12. CAB 134/288. SAC (49) 15 (Revise), 28/12. CAB 134/669. 86 FMM (50) 2nd, 9/1/50. CAB 133/78.

458 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132

NOTES (PAGES 336-344) FMM (50) 4th, 10/1. CAB 133/78. FMM (50) 8th, 12/1. CAB 133/78. P. Spender, Exercises in Diplomacy, Sydney University Press, 1969, pp. 210ff. CP (50) 18, 22/2. CAB 129/38. FMM (50) 4, 11/1. CAB 133/78. FMM (50), 5, 11/1. CAB 133/78. FMM (50) 6, 12/1. CAB 133/78. FMM (50) 8th, 12/1. CAB 133/78. CP (50) 18, 22/2. CAB 129/38. Notes on the Colombo Conference, 2/50. D.O. 35/2773. Telegrams, 11/1, 22; 13/1, 45. D.O. 35/2772. Rotter, The Path, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1987, p. 162. F. Benham, The Colombo Plan, RIIA, London, 1956, p. 2. Stuart/SofS, 15/2, Cable 392. FRUS VII, pp. 1117-18. Stuart/SofS, 8/3, Cable 59. ibid., pp. 1119-20. Stevenson/Bevin, 4/3, 141, and Memorandum. F.O. 371/75745 [F3790/ 1015/10]. The memo is in FRUS VII, pp. 1120-3. FRUS VII, p. 1123n. PPS 51, 29/3. FRUS VII, pp. 1128-33. PR, 18/5. FRUS VII, p. 1143. Rusk/Lockett, 26/7. FRUS VII, p. 1176. Dening/MacDonald, 1/10. F.O. 371/76032 [F14256/1072/61]. Dening/Strang, 15/9, 633/3/49. F.O. 371/76024 [F14149/1024/61]. Minute, 16/9. F.O. 371/76037 [F13445/1078/61]. Discussion of Far Eastern Affairs in Preparation for Conversations with Mr Bevin, 13/9. FRUS VII, p. 1207. Record of a meeting held at the State Department, 13/9. F.O. 371/76032 [F14114/1072/61]. NSC 48/2, 30/12. FRUS VII, pp. 1215-20. Report on Tour in South East Asia and the Far East, January-February 1949, para. 69. F.O. 371/76028 [F4467/1051/61]; CP (49) 67, 17/3. CAB 129/33 Pt. 2; PREM 8/950. Telegram, 5/2, 49, X220. D.O. 35/2861. Telegram from UKHCNZ, 28/3, 26/4. D.O. 35/2861. Minutes, 31/3, 5/4. D.O. 35/2861. Note by Cairncross of a meeting, 21/2. F.O. 371/75688 [F3960/1061/79]. Telegram, 8/1. F.O. 371/75678 [F867/1052/79]. Summary of Mission to Pakistan and India, 15/3. F.O. 371/75688 [F3971/1061/79]. Telegram, Nu/Attlee, 21/2, 30331. F.O. 371/75686 [F2910/1061/79]. Telegram, 28/2, 124. F.O. 371/75686 [F3134/1061/79]. Telegram, 3/2, 108. F.O. 371/75676A [F3170/1011/79]. Minute by Dening, 19/2. F3170. CM (49) 15th, 24/2, 4. CAB 128/15. Minute by Dening, 24/2. F.O. 371/75686 [F3066/1061/79]. SAC (49) 3rd, 26/4, 1. CAB 134/669. FE (O) 49, 2nd, 18/2. CAB 134/286. GEN 278/lst, 24/2. CAB 130/45; Telegram, 25/2, 655. F3066. Memorandum, 19/2. F.O. 371/75688 [F3960/1061/79]. Summary of Mission, paras. 3, 6. Telegrams, 24/2, X374, X381. F.O. 371/75686 [F2994/1061/79]. Note by Murray, 28/2. F.O. 371/75687 [F3470/1061/79]. Telegram, 28/2, X411. F.O. 371/75686 [F3190/1061/79].

NOTES (PAGES 344-349) 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181

459

Summary of Mission, para. 12. Telegram, 28/2, X412. F.O. 371/75686 [F3206/1061/79]. Reuters, 1/3. F.O. 371/75686 [F3433/1061/79]. Telegram, 3/3, X439. F.O. 371/75687 [F3475/1061/79]. Telegram, 4/3, 244. F.O. 371/75689 [F3331/1062/79]. Telegram, 2/3, 231. F.O. 371/75686 [F3178/1061/79]. Telegram, 4/3, 243. F.O. 371/75686 [F3338/1061/79]. Telegram, 4/3, 790. F.O. 371/75687 [F3475/1061/79]. Note for Meeting with Pandit Nehru, 5/3. F3960. Summary of Mission, para. 16. GEN 278/4th 8c 5th, 8/3. CAB 130/45; Minute by Scott, 9/3. F.O. 371/ 75688 [F3584/1061/79]. Telegram, 11/3, 275. F.O. 371/75686 [F3408/1061/79]. Minute by Ledwidge, 17/3. F.O. 371/75688 [F4326/1061/79]. Minute by Ledwidge, 21/3. F.O. 371/75681 [F4287/1055/79]. Summary of Mission, para. 19. SAC (49) 1st, 24/3/49, 1 CAB 134/669. Brief for Prime Minister's meeting with Burmese ambassador, 25/3. F.O. 371/75681 [F5248/1055/79]. Telegram, 31/3, 362. F.O. 371/75697 [F4785/1151/79]. Minute by Ledwidge, 4/4. F4785. Minute, 9/4. F.O. 371/75697 [F5345/1151/79]. Telegram, 10/4, 254, 188, 1225, 797, 378. F5345. Brief by Ledwidge, 20/4. F.O. 371/75697 [F5706/1151/79]. SAC (49) 2nd, 20/4. CAB 134/669. Bevin/Bowker, 21/4, 110. F.O. 371/75681 [F5692/1055/79]. Minute by Dening, 20/4. F.O. 371/75681 [F5750/1055/79]. Minute, 22/4. F.O. 371/75681 [F5886/1055/79]. Minute by Scott, 22/4. F5886. Minute by Dening, 23/4. F.O. 371/75697 [F6049/1151/79]. SAC (49) 3rd, 26/4, 1. CAB 134/669. Minute by Scott, 27/4. F.O. 371/75698 [F6158/1151/79]. Record of Conversation, 28/4. F.O. 371/75698 [F6220/1151/79]; SAC (49) 3, 29/4. Memorandum by R. H. Scott, 28/4. F.O. 371/75698 [F6325/1151/79]. Telegram, 18/5, 317. F.O. 371/75700 [F7280/1151/79], Foster/SofS, 5/5, Cable 88. FRUS 1949 VII, p. 404. Minute by Ledwidge, 3/5. F.O. 371/75698 [F6434/1151/79]. Telegram, 7/5, 479. F.O. 371/75698 [F6533/1151/79]. Minute, 10 May. F.O. 371/75700 [F7114/1151/79]. Telegram, 3/5, 460. F.O. 371/75698 [F6329/1151/79]. Telegram, 7/5, 482. F.O. 371/75698 [F6545/1151/79]. FE (O) (49) 26, 10/5. CAB 134/287. Minute by Ledwidge, 13/5. F.O. 371/75699 [F7028/1151/79]. Minute by Bevin for Prime Minister, 13/5. F.O. 371/75700 [F7092/ 1151/79]. Telegram, 14/5, 455. F6545. Telegram, 20/5, 514. F.O. 371/75700 [F7318/1151/79]. Telegram, 25/5, 500. F7318. Telegram, 23/5, X953. F.O. 371/75700 [F7627/1151/79]. Telegram, 1/6, 538. F.O. 371/75701 [F8087/1151/79]. Telegram, 2/6, 541. F.O. 371/75701 [F8128/1151/79]. Minute, 7/6. F8128.

460

NOTES (PAGES 349-355)

182 Telegram, 17/5, 501. F.O. 371/75700 [F7149/1151/79]; Bevin/Bowker, 18/5, 177. F.O. 371/75700 [F7455/1151/79]. 183 Minute, 16/6. F.O. 371/75682 [F8718/1055/79]. 184 Bevin/Crombie, 6/7, 199, desp. F.O. 371/75683 [F10027/1055/79]. 185 Note of a Meeting, 6/7, annexed to MISC/M (49), 26. 186 Note of a Meeting, 8/7. F.O. 371/75683 [F10470/1055/79]. 187 MISC/M (49) 26, 13/7. F.O. 371/75683 [F10657/1055/79]. 188 Bevin/Bowker, 18/7, 213. F.O. 371/75683 [F10753/1066/79]. 189 Nu/Cripps, 24/6; Attlee/Nu, 4/8. F.O. 371/75684 [Fl 1763/1055/79]. 190 Minute byj. O. Lloyd, 8/7. F.O. 371/75702 [F10247/1151/79]. 191 Telegram, 13/7, X1259. F.O. 371/75702 [F10585/1151/79]. 192 SEAD/Chancery, 20/7. F.O. 371/75683 [F10845/1055/79]. 193 Chancery/SEAD, 28/7, 331/100/49. F.O. 371/75684 [F11555/1055/79]. 194 Telegram, 26/7, 712. F.O. 371/75683 [Fl 1080/1055/79]. 195 Telegram, 30/7, 724. F.O. 371/75684 [F11303/1055/79]. 196 Attlee/Crombie, 10/8, 231. F.O. 371/75684 [F11833/1055/79]. 197 Minute, 10/8. F.O. 371/75685 [F12137/1055/79]. 198 Telegram, 1/8, 732. F.O. 371/75684 [Fl 1331/1055/79]. 199 Stone/Glass, 9/8. F.O. 371/75685 [F12062/1055/79]. 200 Lloyd/Crombie, 15/8, 236. F.O. 371/75685 [F12114/1055/79]. 201 Chancery/SEAD, 25/8, 311/110/49. F.O. 371/75685 [F12092/1055/79]. 202 Telegram, 7/9, 843. F.O. 371/75685 [F13585/1055/79]. 203 Telegram, 14/9, 859. F.O. 371/75685 [F13928/1055/61]. 204 Minute, 12/9. F.O. 371/75703 [F13674/1151/79]. 205 Record of a Meeting, 14/9. F.O. 371/75703 [F14030/1151/79]. 206 ONC (49), 368 (Revise), 9/11. CAB 134/567. EPC (49) 132, 11/11. CAB 134/223. 207 Minute, 15/11. F.O. 371/75705 [F17415/1151/79]. 208 Minute, 17/11. F17415. 209 EPC (49) 45th, 18/11. CAB 134/220. 210 Attlee/Bowker, 2/12/49, 336. F.O. 371/75685 [F18136/1055/79]. 211 Telegram, 20/12, 1116. F.O. 371/75705 [F19195/1151/79]. 212 SAC (49) 21, 30/12. CAB 134/669; SAC (50) 1st, 2/1/50, 4. CAB 134/670. 213 FE (O) (49) 80 Final, 15/12. CAB 134/288. 214 FMM (50) 7th, 12/1. CAB 133/78. 215 Bevin/Bowker, 17/2, 133. F.O. 371/83128 [FB1053/3]. 216 Brief by Scott, 16/2. F.O. 371/83128 [FB1053/2]; Agreement, 28/6/50, Cmd. 8007. 217 Minute, 5/1/50. F.O. 371/75705 [F18060/1151/79]. 218 Minute by P. S. Falla, 16/1. F18060. 219 Maung/Bevin, 6/1. F.O. 371/83163 [FB1192/8]. 220 Minute by Glass, 21/2. FBI 192/8. 221 No. 133. FB1053/3. 222 Bowker/Scott, 24/2. F.O. 371/83163 [FBI 192/10]. 223 Scott/Bowker, 17/3. F.O. 371/83163 [FB1192/12]. 224 FO/Bowker, 31/3, 263. F.O. 371/83163 [FB1192/18]. 225 Scott/Palmer, 31/3. FB1192/18. 226 Minute by Scott, 27/3. F.O. 371/83128 [FB1053/5]. 227 Drafts by Scott in FB1053/5. 228 R. Tanner, A Strong Showing, Steiner, Stuttgart, 1994, p. 230. Samuel P. Hayes, ed., The Beginning ofAmerican Aid to Southeast Asia, Heath, Lexington,

1971, esp. chs. 7 and 8. 229 Telegram, 30/3, 260. F.O. 371/83128 [FB1053/7].

NOTES (PAGES 356-362) 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269

270 271 272 273 274 275

461

Telegrams, 14/4, 292, 293. EO. 371/83128 [FB1053/9]. Bowker/Bevin, 13/5/49, 169. F.O. 371/75689 [F7454/1062/79]. Minute, 31/12/49. F.O. 371/75685 [F19453/1055/79]. Scott/Bowker, 4/1/50. F19453. Telegram, 1/12/48, 190 Saving. F.O. 371/69781 [F17112/5/62]. Minute by Watson, 31/12. F17112. Telegram, 21/12, 1444. F.O. 371/69785 [F18151/5/62]. Telegram, 22/12, 508. F.O. 371/69786 [F18270/5/62]. Minute by Dening, 20/12. F.O. 371/69785 [F18192/5/62]. Telegram, 21/12, 507. F.O. 371/69784 [F18097/5/62]. Minute by Sargent, 23/12. F.O. 371/69787 [F18365/5/62]; Telegram, 23/12, 3941. F.O. 371/69785 [F18162/5/62]. Telegram, 10/11, 1146. F.O. 371/69780 [F15815/5/62]. Telegram, 22/12, 1898. F.O. 371/19785 [F18157/5/62]. Telegram, 23/12, 1918. F.O. 371/69786 [F18242/5/62]. Oey, Hong Lee, War and Diplomacy, James Cook University SEA Monograph, Townsville, 1981, p. 209. Telegram, 23/12, 1924. F.O. 371/69786 [F18248/5/62]. Telegram to Paris, 21/12, 3910. F.O. 371/69785 [F18140/5/62]. Telegram to Paris, 24/12, 3949. F18242. Ag SofS/CG, 20/12, Cable 676. FRUS 1948 VI, pp. 592-3. Telegram, 24/12, 5827. F.O. 371/69786 [F18301/5/62]. Ag SofS/Jessup, 23/12, Cable 4914. FRUS 1948 VI, p. 599. Ac SofS/Embassy, 24/12, 4755. FRUS VI, p. 603. Telegram, 20/12, 719. F.O. 371/69785 [F18148/5/62]. Telegram, 23/12, 1466. F18148. Telegram, 24/12, 511. F.O. 371/69786 [F18283/5/62]. Telegram, 25/12, 13558. F18301. Telegram, 25/12, 1485. F18301. Oey, pp. 209-10. Baruch/SofS, 29/12, Cable 920. FRUS 1948 VI, p. 613. Telegram, 1/1/49, 1. F.O. 371/69788 [F18464/5/62]. Telegram, 1/1, 2. F.O. 371/69788 [F18536/5/62]. Telegram, 1/1, 6. F.O. 371/69788 [F18538/5/62]. Walker/Bevin, 3/1. D.O. 35/2856; F.O. 371/76146 [F347/1071/62]. Bevin/Gordon-Walker, 4/1. D.O. 35/2856. Informal Note, 8/1. D.O. 35/2857. Telegram, 9/1,7. D.O. 35/2856. F.O. Intel, 8/1, 15. D.O. 35/2856. CP (49) 7, 11/1. CAB 129/32. CM (49) 2nd, 12/1, 2. CAB 128/15. Conversation, 12/1. F.O. 371/76141 [F1063/10113/62]. q. Audrey Kahin, Regional Dynamics of the Indonesian Revolution, University of Hawaii Press, Honolulu, 1985, p. 165; Salim Said, Genesis of Power. General Sudirman and the Indonesian Military in Politics 1945-49, ISEAS, Singapore, 1991, p. 109. Nichols/Attlee, 1/12/49, 425, paras 10, 12. F.O. 371/76114 [F18358/ 1015/62]. Baruch/Ag SofS, 20/1, Cable 57. FRUS 1949 VII, pp. 179-82. Oey, pp. 214-15. Bevin/Noel-Baker, 1/2. D.O. 35/2854. Conversation, 5/2. F.O. 371/76147 [F2085/1071/62]; CP (49) 25, 7/2. CAB 129/32. Shepherd/Bevin, 1/2, 28. F.O. 371/76028 [F2030/1051/61].

462

NOTES (PAGES 363-366)

276 CP (49) 22, 4/2. CAB129/32. 277 CM (49) 10th, 8/2 2. CAB128/15. 278 Aide-memoire, misdated 1/2 [lapsus calami, 10/2]. FRUS 1949 VII, pp. 198-200, handed over, 11/2. Memo, 11/2. FRUS VII, pp. 224-5. 279 Memorandum of Conversation, 11/2. ibid., p. 226. 280 Telegrams, 15/2, Y48. F.O. 371/76141 [F2418/10113/62]. 281 Telegrams from UKHC ND, 18/2, X335; UKHC Ceylon, 23/2, 160. D.O. 35/2860. 282 UKHC Pak, 23/2, 281. D.O. 35/2860. 283 Telegram from UKHC NZ, 28/2, 67. D.O. 35/2860. Drafted by R. R. Cunningham. See A. O'Brien, 'New Zealand and Indonesia, 1945-62: "A clear though indirect interest"', MA thesis, University of Auckland, 1994, p. 52. 284 Kirk/SofS, 9/2, Cable 213. FRUS VII, pp. 212-23. 285 Nichols/Attlee, 1/12, 425, para 11. 286 SofS/CG, 16/2, Cable 88. FRUS VII, pp. 233-4. 287 Memorandum, 11/2. ibid., pp. 225-6. 288 SofS/CG, 16/2, Cable 88. 289 Douglas/SofS, 18/2, Cable 619. FRUS VII, pp. 242-3. 290 Baruch/SofS, 23/2, Cable 187. FRUS VII, pp. 247-9. 291 SofS/CG, 24/2, Cable 105. FRUS VII, p. 252. 292 CG/SofS, 26/2, Cable 203. FRUS VII, p. 264. 293 CG/SofS, 2/3, Cable 217. FRUS VII, p. 286. 294 GEN 279/lst, 25/2. CAB130/45. 295 Minute by Robert Scott, 5/3. F.O. 371/76121 [F3468/10110/62]. 296 Minute, 5/3. F3468. 297 Memorandum, 7/3. FRUS VII, p. 303. 298 Bevin/Franks, 7/3, 421. F.O. 371/76121 [F3728/10110/62]. 299 Memorandum by Dening, 7/3. F.O. 371/76121 [F3584/10110/62]. 300 Memorandum, 7/3. FRUS 1949 VII, pp. 303-5. 301 GEN 279/2nd, 8/3. CAB130/45. 302 GEN 279/3rd, 9/3. CAB130/45. 303 Bevin/Stikker, 9/3. F.O. 371/76121 [F3618/10110/62]. Telegram, 9/3, 2737. F3618. 304 Bevin/Franks, 10/3, 445. F.O. 371/76121 [F3727/10110/62]. 305 Minute by Dening, 10/3; Telegram, 10/3, 880. F3618. 306 Telegram, 10/3, 887. F3618. Cf George, p. 138. 307 Telegram, 3/4, 1917. F.O. 371/76122 [F4803/10110/62]. 308 Telegram, 1/4, 3925. F.O. 371/76122 [F4802/10110/62]. 309 Telegram, 6/4, 2007. F.O. 371/76122 [F5003/10110/62]. 310 Minute by Dening, 11/4. F.O. 371/86122 [F5125/10110/62]. 311 Telegrams, 11/4, 242; 14/4, 250, 253. F.O. 371/76123 [F5243, 5355, 5365/10110/62]. 312 Minute, 13/4. F.O. 371/76141 [F5140/10113/62]. 313 Minute, 26/4. F.O. 371/76122 [F5125/10110/62]. 314 Minute, 28/4. F5734. 315 Minute by Dening, and note thereon, 25/4. F.O. 371/76123 [F6517/ 10110/62]. 316 Conversation, 27/4. D.O. 35/2854. 317 Telegram, 27/4, 279. F.O. 371/76123 [F6023/10110/62]. 318 Minute by Palliser, 3/5. F.O. 371/76123 [F6513/10110/62]. 319 Minute by Dening, 5/5. F.O. 371/76123 [F6515/10110/62].

NOTES (PAGES 366-373) 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 339 340 341 342 343 344 345 346 347 348 349 350 351 352 353 354 355 356 357 358 359 360 361 362 363 364

463

Bevin/Gage, 5/5, 273. F.O. 371/76124 [F7155/10110/62]. Telegram, 8/5, 290. F.O. 371/76124 [F6602/10110/62]. Minute, 10/5. F6602. Telegram from UKHCND, 10/5, X 858. F.O. 371/76124 [F6823/ 10110/62]. Telegram, 10/5, 1216. F.O. 371/76124 [F6752/10110/62] Minute, 12/5. F6752. Minute, 13/5. F.O. 371/76124 [F6845/10110/62]. SofS Acheson/Embassy, 13/5, Cable 70. FRUS VII, p. 411. Minute by Scott, 14/5. F.O. 371/76124 [F6733/10110/62]; Telegram to UK deleg., 15/5, 2063. F.O. 371/76147 [F7078/1071/62]. Telegram, 30/5, 340. F.O. 371/76124 [F7011/10110/62]. Dening/Nichols, 6/8. F.O. 371/76128 [F11859/10110/62]. Nichols/Scott, 26/1, 1/706/49. F.O. 371/76141 [F11431/10113/62]. Scott/Nichols, 30/7. Fl 1431. Dening/Nichols, 6/8. Fl 1431. Gage/Dening, 25/8, 1/794/49. F.O. 371/76129 [F12860/10110/62]. Gage/Scott, 9/9, 1/848/49. F.O. 371/76130 [F13721/10110/62]. Gage/Dening, 25/8 as above. Scott/Gage, 6/9. F.O. 371/76129 [F12793/10110/62]. Minute by Keeble, 12/9. F.O. 371/76130 [F13568/10110/62]. Telegram, 12/9, 341. F.O. 371/76130 [F13799/10110/62]. Gage/Scott, 16/9. F.O. 371/76131 [F14059/10110/62]. Gage/Scott, 9/9, 1/848/49. F13721. Minute, 14/9. F.O. 371/76131 [F13996/10110/62]. Nichols/Scott, 22/9, 1/885/49. F.O. 371/76131 [F14481/10110/62]. Minute, 30/9. F.O. 371/76131 [F14514/10110/62]. Telegram from UKHCND, 1/10, X1735. F.O. 371/76131 [F14965/ 10110/62]. Minute by Keeble, 6/10. F14965. Telegram from Stewart, 17/10, 531. F.O. 371/76131 [F15616/10110/62]. Telegram, 18/10, 534. F.O. 371/76132 [F15697/10110/62]. Telegram, 19/10, 538. F.O. 371/76132 [F15739/10110/62]. Minute, 18/10. F.O. 371/76132 [F15877/10110/62]. Telegram, 18/10, 384. F.O. 371/76131 [F15629/10110/62]. Cf Charge Steere/SofS, 19/10, Cable 973. FRUS, pp. 541-3. Note, n.d. F15877. Telegram, 21/10, 10088. F15877. SofS/Embassy, 25/10, Cable 936. FRUS, p. 547. Telegram, 27/10, 10210. F15978. Telegram, 25/10, 549. F.O. 371/76132 [F16010/10110/62]. Minute, 1/11. F.O. 371/76133 [F16498/10110/62]. Draft and Telegrams, 2/11, 1232, 1233. F16498. Telegram, 2/11, 409. F.O. 371/76132 [F16428/10110/62];-Minute by Scott, 3/11. Fl6498. q. Evelyn Colbert, Southeast Asia in International Politics 1941-1956, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1977, p. 84. Telegram, 4/11, 95 Saving. F.O. 371/76135 [F16663/10110/62]. Summary and Comments [by FORD?], 9/11. F.O. 371/76133 [F16430/ 10110/62]. Nichols/Attlee, 1/12, 425. F18358. Scott/Nichols, 30/7. F.O. 371/76141 [F11431/10113/62].

464 365 366 367 368 369 370 371 372 373 374 375 376 377 378 379 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409

NOTES (PAGES 373-379) R. Mrazek, Sjahrir, Cornell SEA Program, Ithaca, 1994, p. 395. Minute by Dening, 30/12, F.O. 371/76002 [F623/1016/61]. Gibbs/Bevin, 29/12, 132. F.O. 371/76146 [F570/1071/62]. Military Intelligence Report, 28/2, and minute by John Russell, 17/3. F.O. 371/75960 [F3423/1015/86]. Clarke/Dening, 7/1 [quoting Chauvel]. F.O. 371/75960 [F720/1015/81]. n.d.F720. Brief for SofS, 11/1. F.O. 371/76002 [F1545/1016/61]. Conversation between Bevin and Schuman, 14/1. F.O. 371/75960 [F1315/ 1015/86]. Telegram from Harvey, 20/1, 85. F.O. 371/75960 [F1125/1015/86]. Minute, 21/1. F1125. Memorandum, 9/3. F.O. 371/75961 [F3519/1015/86]. Cole, pp. 72-79. Telegram from Harvey, 10/3, 61 Saving. F.O. 371/75961 [F3620/1015/86]. Minute, 12/3. F.O. 371/75961 [F3979/1015/86]. E. F. Rice-Maximin, The French Left and Indo-China, 1945-54', PhD thesis, University of Wisconsin, 1954, pp. 244, 246. Clarke/Attlee, 28/3/49, 194. F4718. Memorandum, 24/3. F3620; Record of Meeting, 14/3. F.O. 371/76002 [F4401/1016/61]. Minute, 31/3. F.O. 371/75961 [F4599/1015/86]. Minutes, 24/3, 28/3. F.O. 371/75961 [F4159/1015/86]. Gibbs/Bevin, 15/3, 28. F4159. Statement, 23/3, drawn from notes taken during conversation, 21/3, in Murray/Gibbs, 22/3. F4599. Telegram, 17/3, 49. F.O. 371/75961 [F4091/1015/86]. Military Intel report, 18/3. F.O. 371/75961 [F4520/1015/86]. Minute, 30/3. F4520. Minute, 1/4. F.O. 371/75961 [F4667/1015/86]. Minute, 8/4. F.O. 371/75962 [F4759/1015/86]. MacDonald/Dening, 29/3. F.O. 371/75962 [F4920/1015/86]. Clarke/Attlee, 28/3. F4718. Gibbs/Allen, 9/4. F.O. 371/75962 [F5512/1015/86]. Minutes, 22/4, 22/4. F5512. Scott/Gibbs, 5/5. F5512. Scrivener/Scott, 28/4. F.O. 371/75963 [F6721/1015/86]. Gibson/SofS, 30/4, Cable 34. FRUS VII, p. 21. Hopson/Scott, 18/5. F.O. 371/75963 [F7816/1015/86]. Hopson/Scott, 24/5, confidential. F.O. 371/75963 [F8308/1015/86]. Minutes by Blackham, 13/6; Walmsley, 14/6. F.O. 371/75963 [F8308/ 1015/86]. Minute, 29/6. F.O. 371/75964 [F9280/1015/86]. Report, in Anderson/Scott, 7/6, 14/160/49. F.O. 371/75964 [F8676/ 1015/86]. Minute. F8676. Minute, 25/6. F8676. Minute, 29/6. F8676. Memorandum, enclosed in Butter worth/SofS, 6/6, 289. FRUS, pp. 39-45. Bruce/SofS, 13/6, Cable 2430. FRUS, pp. 45-46. Ag SofS/Embassy, 14/6, Cable 2044. FRUS, pp. 49-50. Record of conversation, 15/6, with US Memo, s.d. F.O. 371/75964 [F9051/ 1015/86]. Cf Embassy/SofS, 15/6, Cable 1301. FRUS, pp. 55-56.

NOTES (PAGES 379-385)

465

410 Minute, 16/6, initialled 'EB\ F9051. 411 Press Statement, 17/6. F.O. 371/75964 [F9052/1015/86]. Cf FRUS, pp. 53-54. 412 Telegram, 21/6. F.O. 371/75964 [F9257/1015/86]. 413 Telegram, 27/6, 89. F9257. 414 Telegram, 29/6, 106. F.O. 371/75965 [F9601/1015/86]. 415 Henderson/SofS, 21/6, Cable 697. FRUS, pp.61-62. Telegram ex UKHCND, 23/6, X 1155. F.O. 371/75964 [F9264/1015/86]. 416 CRO Telegram, 28/6, 2025. F9264. 417 Hopson/Bevin, 14/6, 60. F.O. 371/75965 [F9640/1015/86]. 418 Minute, 7/7. F.O. 371/75965 [F9771/1015/86]. 419 Hopson/Bevin, 5/7, 64. F.O. 371/75965 [F10829/1015/86]. 420 Minute, 22/7. F10829. 421 Hood/Scott, 4/7, 102/7/140/49. F.O. 371/75965 [F10078/1015/86]. 422 Aide-memoire by Graves, 10/6. F.O. 371/75965 [F9644/1015/86]. 423 Scott/Hood, 30/7. F10078. 424 Minute, 25/7. F.O. 371/75965 [F10902/1015/86]. 425 Telegram from UKHCND, 20/7, X1307. F10902. 426 Clarke/Dening, 21/7. F.O. 371/75966 [Flllll/1015/87]; Roberts/ Dening, 1/8. F.O. 371/75966 [F11917/1015/86]. 427 Clarke/Dening, 22/7. F.O. 371/75966 [Fill 12/1015/86]. 428 Clarke/Dening, 25/7,102/7/178/49. F.O. 371/75966 [F11160/1015/86]. 429 Hood/Scott, 10/8, 102/7/197/49. F.O. 371/75966 [F12028/1015/86]. 430 Minute, 15/8. F12028. 431 Clarke/Dening, 22/7. F i l l 12. 432 Message, 8/8. F.O. 371/75966 [F12354/1015/86]. 433 Minute, 11/8. F.O. 371/75966 [F11888/1015/86]. 434 Minute by Blackham, 20/8. F.O. 371/75966 [F12354/1015/86]. 435 Chancery/SEAD, 15/8. F12354. 436 Hopson/Scott, 19/7. F.O. 371/75966 [F11793/1015/86]. 437 Minute, 10/8. Fl 1793. 438 Hopson/Clarke, 16/8. F.O. 371/75967 [F12965/1015/86]. 439 Telegram, 30/8, 150. F.O. 371/75967 [F13140/1015/86]. 440 Telegram, 25/8, 625. F.O. 371/75967 [F12798/1015/86]. 441 Telegram, 2/9, 917. F.O. 371/75967 [F13155/1015/86]. 442 Chief of State H.M. Bao Dai/Truman, 31/8. FRUS 1949 VII, p. 74. 443 Abbot/SofS, 8/9, Cable 284. FRUS, p. 75. 444 Memorandum of conversation, 9/9. FRUS 1949 VII, pp. 76-79. 445 Telegram, 9/9, 430. F13155. 446 Telegram, 26/8, 572. F.O. 371/75967 [F12857/1015/86]. 447 Minute, 31/8. F12857. 448 Telegram, 6/9, 593. F.O. 371/75967 [F13710/1015/86]. 449 Telegram, 22/9, 627. F.O. 371/75967 [F13711/1015/86]. 450 Telegram, 14/9, 693. F13711. 451 Telegram, 26/10, 500. F13710. 452 Telegram ex UKHCND, 7/9, X1564. F.O. 371/75967 [F13566/1015/86]. 453 Keeble/Coe, 20/9. F13566. 454 Telegrams from UKHCND, 21/9, X1674. F.O. 371/75968 [F14334/1015/ 86]. 23/9, X1695. F.O. 371/75968 [F14467/1015/86]. Telegram, 24/9, 177. F.O. 371/7/75968 [F14371/1015/86]. 455 Telegram, 6/9, 657. F.O. 371/75967 [F13418/1015/86]. 456 Record of conversation, 8/9. F.O. 371/75968 [F13895/1015/86]. 457 Minute, 16/9. F13895.

466 458 459 460 461 462 463 464 465 466 467 468 469 470 471 472 473 474 475 476 477 478 479 480 481 482 483 484 485 486 487 488 489 490 491 492 493 494 495 496 497 498 499 500 501 502 503 504

NOTES (PAGES 385-391) Telegram, 1/9, 660. F.O. 371/75967 [F13141/1015/86]. Minute, 6/9. F13155. Telegram, 8/9, 1095. F13141. Scott/Ford, 25/10. F.O. 371/75968 [F14716/1015/86]. Memorandum, 17/9. F.O. 371/75969 [F15396/1015/86]. Scott/Hood, 23/9. F.O. 371/75968 [F13946/1015/86]. Scott/Hood, 4/10. F13946. Minute, 12/9. F.O. 371/75969 [F15704/1015/86] Memorandum by James L. O'Sullivan, 28/9, FRUS VII, pp. 83-89. See also F.O. memoranda, 13/9, 14/9. F.O. 371/75976/3 [F14115, 14198/ 1025/86]. Telegram, 19/9, 4532. F.O. 371/75968 [F14080/1015/86]. Scott/Ford, 25/10. F14716. Telegram, 27/9, 739. F.O. 371/75977 [F14600/1026/86]. Telegram, 28/9, 1215. F14600. Minutes by Keeble, Evans, 21/9, 21/9. F14080. Scrivener/Scott, 30/8, 1228/7/49. F.O. 371/75967 [F13560/1015/86]. Hopson/Scott, 1/10, XIII/1/3/49. F.O. 371/75969 [F15301/1015/86]. Minute by Scott, 13/10. F.O. 371/75969 [F15441/1015/86]. Minute, 24/10. F15441. Clarke/Dening, 14/10. F.O. 371/75969 [F16034/1015/86]. Minute, 28/10. F16034. Clarke/Dening, 20/10,102/7/265/49. F.O. 371/75969 [F15960/1015/86]. Minute, 27/10. F15960. Minute, 8/11. F.O. 371/75970 [F16854/1015/86]; Scott/Hood, 9/11. F.O. 371/75969 [F16497/1015/86]. Telegram, 1/11,194. F.O. 371/75969 [F16410/1015/86]. Cf Acheson, p. 335. Memorandum, 20/10. FRUS VII, pp. 92-94. Menon/Bevin, 10/10. F.O. 371/75969 [F16564/1015/86]. Minute by Dening, 28/10. F16564. n.d.F16564. Bevin/Menon, 7/11. Fl6564. Hopson/Scott, 30/10, XIII/1/1/49. F.O. 371/75970 [F16853/1015/86]. Telegram, 6/11, 929. F.O. 371/75970 [F16662/1015/86]. Minute, 8/11. F16662. Telegram, 1/11, 2871. F.O. 371/75969 [F15472/1015/86]. Telegram, 5/11, 1177. F.O. 371/75970 [F16641/1015/86]. Minute by Scott, 10/11. F.O. 371/75970 [F16640/1015/86]. Minute, n.d. F16640; Telegram, 12/11, 3071. F16641. Telegram, 10/11, 5292. F.O. 371/75970 [F16904/1015/86]. Memorandum, 10/11. FRUS, p. 96. Telegram, 11/11, 285 Saving. F.O. 371/75970 [F17671/1015/80]. Minute, 15/11; Telegram, 16/11, 10814. F16904. Telegram, 17/12, 5855. F.O. 371/76025 [F18982/10345/61]. Note, 29/11. F.O. 371/75977 [F18335/1026/86]. Telegram, 28/11, 1018. F.O. 371/75977 [F17779/1026/86]. Telegram, 28/11, 1017. F.O. 371/75977 [F17833/1026/86]. Telegram, 28/11, 1019. F.O. 371/75977 [F17845/1026/86]. Telegram, 24/11, 1010. F.O. 371/75970 [F17624/1015/86]. Telegram, 28/11, 1021. F.O. 371/75977 [F17834/1026/81]. Telegram, 28/11, 1020. F.O. 371/75977 [F17840/1026/81].

NOTES (PAGES 391-396) 505 506 507 508 509 510 511 512 513 514 515 516 517 518 519 520 521 522 523 524 525 526 527 528 529 530 531 532 533 534 535 536 537 538 539 540 541 542 543 544 545 546 547 548 549 550 551 552

467

Note, 29/11. F18335. Record of meeting, 21/11. F.O. 371/75977 [F18334/1026/86]. Memorandum, 21/11. F.O. 371/75981 [F18832/10345/86]. Minute, 22/11. F18832. Minute by Lloyd, 19/12. F18832. Douglas/SofS, 30/11, Cable A-2252. FRUS 1949, VII, p. 101. Telegram, 1/12, 1304. F.O. 371/75977 [F18014/1026/86]. Minute, 1/12. F.O. 371/75977 [F18202/1026/86]. Minute, 2/12. F18202. Minute, 5/12. F18202; Massigli/Strang, 6/12. F17840. FE (O) (49) 18th, 8/12. CAB 134/286. SAC(49) 8th, 16/12. CAB 134/669. Dening/Harvey, 29/12. F.O. 371/75983 [F19627/1055/86]. Telegram, 19/12, 1098. F.O. 371/75983 [F19106/1055/86]. Dening/Harvey, 29/12. F19627. Minute, 29/12. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/2]. SAC (49) 17, 14/12. CAB 134/669. FE (O) (49) 79 Final, 15/12. CAB 134/288. FMM (50) 6th, 11/1. CAB 133/78. FMM (50) 7th, 12/1. CAB 133/78. FMM (50) 8th, 12/1. CAB 133/78; Telegram, 14/1, 47. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/8]. Telegram, 13/1, 44. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/7]. Telegrams, 17/1, 63, 87. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/9]. Telegram, 17/1, 62. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/10]. Telegram, 20/1, 38. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/13]. Telegram, 23/1. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/16]. Minute, 23/1. [FF1051/13]. Telegram, 24/1, 241049C. FF1051/13. Minute, 30/1. F.O. 371/83627 [FF1051/29]; PM's Minute, 30/1. F.O. 371/ 83627 [FF1051/30]. Telegram, 31/1,237. FF1051/30. Telegram, 1/2, 98. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/25]. Telegram, 3/2, 60. F.O. 371/83627 [FF1051/35]. Telegram, 4/2, 149. FF1051/25. CM (50) 4th, 7/2. Item 4. CAB 128/17. Kinna/Barclay, 1/2. FF1051/30; Minute by Strang, 2/2. F.O. 371/83627 [FF1051/32]. Telegram, 1/2, 384 Saving. FF1051/30. Dening/Hayter, 17/2. F1051/20. FMM 6th. Cf SofS/Embassy Philippines, 7/1, 22. FRUS 1950 VI, pp. 691-2. Brief, 7/2. F.O. 371/83627. [FF1051/45]; CM 4th. as above. Memorandum by Butterworth, 5/1. FRUS 1950 VI, p. 690. SofS/Embassy, 30/1, 438. FRUS 1950 VI, pp. 703-4. Telegram, 31/1, 361. F.O. 371/83626 [FF1051/24]. Kinna/Barclay, 1/2 [FF1051/30]. FRUS VI, p. 704. Scott/Ringwalt, 2/2. F.O. 371/83627 [FF1051/39]. Edwards, p. 84; Reply, 13/3. F.O. 371/83628 [FF1051/59]. Minute, 10/2. F.O. 371/83625 [FF10385/8]. Ton That Thien, India and Southeast Asia, Droz, Geneva, 1963, pp. 124-7. Bevin/Hayter, 8/2, 165. F.O. 371/83628 [FF1051/47].

468 553 554 555 556 557 558 559 560 561 562 563 564 565 566 567 568 569 570 571 572 573 574 575 576 577 578 579 580 581 582 583 584 585 586 587 588 589 590 591 592 593 594 595

NOTES (PAGES 396-404) SAC (50) 3, 31/3, and Annex. CAB 134/670. SAC (50) 4, 5/4. CAB 134/670. Problem Paper, 1/2. FRUS 1950 VI, pp. 711-15. Geoffrey C. Gunn, Political Struggles in Laos, 1930-1954, Duang Kamol, Bangkok, 1988, p. 184. Gene J. Garfield, 'The Genesis of Involvement: the Truman decision to assist the French in Indo-China', PhD thesis, Southern Illinois University, 1972, p. 159, also App. VI. Amb/SofS, 11/12/48, Cable 519. FRUS 1949, p. 106. Memorandum, 18/8. FRUS, p. 863. Memorandum, 3/7. FRUS 1950, pp. 835-6. Editorial note, ibid., p. 836. Telegram, 2/12/49, 886. F.O. 371/75977 [Fl8094/1026/86]. Telegram, 24/12, 1119. F.O. 371/75977 [F19312/1026/86]. Stanton/SofS, 1/3/50, Cable 190. FRUS, pp. 747-8. Kobkua, Suwannathat-Pian, Thailand's Durable Premier, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1995, p. 279. Telegram, 15/1, 32. F.O. 371/76285 [F758/1051/40]. Minute, 20/1. F758. Minute by Palliser, 8/1/49. F.O. 371/76285 [F3859/1051/40]. Telegram, 17/1, 35. F.O. 371/76285 [F1713/1051/40]. Minute, 19/1. F1713. Minute, 19/1. F1713. Telegram, 29/1, 55. F1713. Telegram, 24/12, 348. F.O. 371/76285 [F175/1051/40]. Minute, 6/1. Fl75. Christofas/Morris, 24/5. F.O. 371/76285 [F4455/1051/40]. Draft telegram. F.O. 371/76286 [F16419/1051/40]. Telegram, 19/2, 131. F.O. 371/76003 [F2636/1017/61]. Thompson/Scott, 16/11, personal and secret. F.O. 371/76287 [F17667/ 1057/40]. Scott/Thompson, 23/11, personal and secret. F17667. Memorandum, 'Probable Reasons', etc., 29/11. F.O. 371/76288 [F18520/ 1058/40]. Thompson/Scott, 30/11. F18520. Scott/Thompson, 9/12. F18520. Thompson/Scott, 16/12. F.O. 371/76288 [F19415/1058/40]. CP (49) 244, 26/11. CAB 129/37. Suspended telegram. Minute by Dening, 2/1/50. F.O. 371/75981 [F18832/ 10345/86]. Stanton/SofS, 14/6/49, Cable 201. FRUS 1949 VII, pp. 50-53. Anuson Chinvanno, Thailand's Policies towards China, 1949-54, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 1992, p. 54. Chinvanno, pp. 55-56. Briefing papers for debate on 24/5/50. F.O. 371/84494 [FZ10144/22]. A. Short, The Communist Insurrection, Muller, London, 1975, pp. 144—6. Memorandum by John Green, 13/4. F.O. 371/76049 [F5704/1114/61]. Higham/Grey, 20/12/48. F.O. 371/69788 [F18583/5/62]. McNeil/Mayhew, 2/4. F5704. Mayhew/McNeil, 30/4. F5704. Record of a meeting at the State Department, 13/9/49. F.O. 371/75976 [F14115/1025/86].

NOTES (PAGES 404-408)

469

596 CP (49) 244, 26/11. CAB 129/37. 597 R. Stubbs, Hearts and Minds, Oxford University Press, Singapore, 1989, p. 85. 598 q. Kaplan, in Deighton, p. 217. 599 R. Reece, The Name of Brooke, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1982, pp. 276-7. 600 B. A. Hussainmiya, Sultan Omar All Saifuddin III and Britain, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1995, p. 52. 601 Bevin/Nichols, 16/8, 421. F.O. 371/76141 [F12179/10113/62]. 602 Minute by Lloyd, 26/8. F12179. 603 Scott/Scrivener, 5/9. F.O. 371/76141 [F13914/10113/62]. 604 Philippine Claim, I, 146-8. Foulds/Bevin, 22/4, 55. F.O. 371/84312 [FP1081/4]. 605 Minute, 10/5. FP1081/4. 606 L. A. Garner, 'The Philippine Claim to North Borneo', PhD thesis, Fletcher, 1965, p. 73. 607 Lockett/SofS, 22/3, Cable 758. FRUS 1949 VII, p. 1125. 608 Charge/SofS, 24/3, 783. FRUS, p. 1126. 609 SofS/Charge, 23/3, Cable 372. FRUS, p. 1126. 610 Lockett/SofS, 5/5, Cable 1194. FRUS, pp. 1142-3. 611 Telegram, 11/1, 1 Saving. F.O. 371/75799 [F1306/10124/10]. 612 Lockett/SofS, 12/7, Cable 1720. FRUS, pp. 1154-5; Telegram, 12/7, 12 Saving. F.O. 371/75799 [F10751/10124/10]. 613 Lockett/SofS, 12/7, Cable 1722. FRUS, p. 1155. 614 Lockett/SofS, 14/7, Cable 1737. FRUS, p. 1158. 615 Lockett/SofS, 15/7, Cable 1748. FRUS, p. 1159. 616 Telegram ex UKHC Aust, 28/7, 516. F.O. 371/75799 [Fl 1196/10124/10]. 617 Henderson/SofS, 23/7, 833. FRUS, p. 1173. 618 Telegram ex UKHCNZ, 21/7, 324. F.O. 371/75999 [F10871/10124/10]. 619 Memorandum, 26/7, q. B. Barrington, 'New Zealand and the Search . . .', PhD, University of Auckland, 1993, p. 136. 620 Conversation, 26/7. F.O. 371/75799 [F11446/10124/10]; Douglas/SofS, 26/7, Cable 2952. FRUS, p. 1176. 621 Minute, 19/7. F.O. 371/75799 [Fl 1515/10124/10]. 622 Minutes, 29/7. F.O. 371/75799 [Fl 1191/10124/10]. 623 Charge/SofS, 1/8, Cable 1859. FRUS VII, pp. 1179-80. 624 Lockett/SofS, 4/8, Cable 1894. FRUS, pp. 1182-3. 625 Telegram, 5/8, 82. F.O. 371/75799 [Fl 1683/10124/10]. 626 Minute, 25/8. F.O. 371/76037 [F12507/1078/61]. 627 Memorandum, 'Pacific Pact', 2/8. F.O. 371/76037 [F12642/1078/61]. 628 Minute, 26/8. F12642. 629 Telegram, 25/8, 624. F.O. 371/76037 [F12800/1078/61]. 630 Minute, 30/8. F12800. 631 Fraser/Feng Wang, 9/8. F.O. 371/76037 [F13256/1078/61]. 632 Memorandum by Allison, 15/8. FRUS VII, pp. 1187-8. 633 Minute, 13/9. D.O. 35/2768. 634 Telegram, 24/11, 470 Saving. F.O. 371/76037 [F17724/1078/61]. 635 Minutes, 29/11, 3/12, 13/12. F17724. 636 Minute by Scott, 16/11. F.O. 371/76037 [F17256/1078/61]. 637 Telegram UKHCND, 17/12, X2129. F.O. 371/76037 [F19389/1078/61]. 638 Minute, 28/11. D.O. 35/2768. 639 Minute, 30/11. D.O. 35/2768.

470

NOTES (PAGES 409-410)

640 Minute, 9/12. D.O. 35/2768. 641 Minute byj. Garner, 12/12. D.O. 35/2768. 642 Hoyer Miller/Makins, 16/11, G95/109/49. F.O. 371/76025 [F7668/ 10345/61]. 643 Minute, 24/11. F7668. 644 Kirk/SofS, 22/7, Cable 1818. FRUS, pp. 1172-3. 645 Telegram, 17/12, 5853. F.O. 371/76025 [F18982/10345/61]. 646 Ton That Thien, p. 269. 647 Memorandum of conversation, 21/2. FRUS 1950 VI, pp. 20-21. 648 SofS/Embassy in Australia, 25/2, Cable 34. ibid., p. 27. 649 q. Ton That Thien, pp. 270-1. 650 Minute, 6/6/50. F.O. 371/84534 [FZ1071/22]. 651 Memorandum, 26/9/50. FRUS, p. 146. 652 Speech, 27/6. Cole, pp. 118-19.

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Index

Where an entry is the subject of a whole section, page numbers are given in bold type. Abbott, George 306, 383 Acheson, Dean 115, 121, 321, 322, 340, 341, 365, 379, 385, 386, 389-91, 394, 402, 404, 409 Adams, A. C. S. 33, 109, 110, 112, 119, 120, 125 Addison, Lord 335 Adun Adundetcharat 248 Africa 194, 264 Agus Salim 229, 231 Alexander, A. V. 149, 150, 347, 350 Algeria 390 Ali Khan, Liaquat 347, 348 Allen, Richard. 49, 60, 126, 165, 168, 169, 172, 181, 182,190, 215, 218, 220, 222, 223, 226-9, 231, 232, 238, 239, 253, 245-8, 253 Allison, John 25, 31, 123, 124 Amery, Leopold 11, 13, 15, 16, 43, 63, 66, 413 Anderson, C. M. 85, 153, 237, 239, 246, 247,384,399,401,403 Anti-Fascist Organisation, Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League 63, 66, 68-71, 74, 105, 131, 135-40, 142, 145-50, 188,194-6, 199-204, 275, 277 Arden-Clarke, Sir C. 176 d'Argenlieu, Thierry 85, 986, 134, 152-6, 158,237-40 Asbeck, F. M. van 95 Ashton-Gwatkin, Frank 223 Atlantic Charter 23, 44, 176 Attlee, C. R. 19, 29, 60, 63, 76, 77, 93, 94, 97, 99, 101, 103, 116, 134, 137, 139, 144, 146, 147, 150, 163, 166, 167, 171,

182, 191,196,198, 201, 204, 208, 209, 213, 214, 240, 264, 287, 325, 326, 328, 332, 334, 335, 347, 349, 350, 353-5, 358, 364, 392, 394, 413 Auchinleck, Sir C. 72-74, 91 Aung San 16, 36, 62-66, 68-77, 94, 134-8, 140-50, 157, 195-202, 206, 209, 210, 274,413 Auriol, Vincent 239, 308, 382 Auriol-Bao Dai agreement (8 March 1949) 375, 385-7, 390 Australia 8, 9, 22, 38, 48, 53-58, 62, 96, 110, 111, 132-4, 161, 163, 169, 190, 192,193, 224, 225, 227, 234, 236, 242, 264, 265, 277, 280, 281, 284, 296, 297, 300, 304, 310, 313, 322, 325, 326, 333, 336-40, 342, 344, 346, 353, 358, 360-2, 366-8, 370, 371, 376, 384, 393, 395, 403, 406-09 Austria 25 Awbery, S. S. 310 Ba Maw 136 Ba Pe 145 Ba Sein 196 Baeyens 308, 382 Baguio 406, 407, 409 Baie d'Along 245, 303, 305 Bajpai, Sir Girja 285, 290, 305, 344, 349, 366, 367, 369, 380 Balfour, Sir John 222, 224 Ball, W. Macmahon 96, 301, 304 Ballantine, Joseph W. 30, 33 Ballard, B. C. 216 Bamakhit3b6

479

480

INDEX

Bandung (conference of federal states) 290 Bannier, J. P. 232 Bao Dai 39, 79, 240-5, 266, 301-04, 306, 307, 342, 373-90, 392-7, 400, 401, 404 Barisan Pemuda Sarawak (Sarawak Youth Front) 211 Barnett, Correlli 5 Baruch,B. 221,295, 359 Batavia (Jakarta) 89, 91, 98, 102, 104, 169, 218, 232, 282, 366, 371, 373 Baudet, Philippe 85, 157, 157, 241, 242, 301,361 Beasley, John A. 280, 362 Beckett, Sir Eric 204, 378 Beel, L. J. M. 104, 164, 165, 171, 212-14, 284, 357, 359, 363, 367, 371 Belgium 227, 264, 285, 358, 359, 395 Bell Act 178, 255 Benelux 264 Bennett, J. C. Sterndale 16, 26, 31-33, 36, 39, 47-49, 55-59, 83-85, 90, 91, 94, 96,102,103, 110, 113,115,116,127, 413 Bennett, J. S. 227 Bentinck, Baron A. W. C. 235, 281, 285, 286 Berlin 7, 276, 309 Bevin, Ernest 8, 51, 57, 61, 79, 93, 96, 97, 99,101, 103,109, 111, 113,126, 127, 130, 133, 134, 159, 160, 163-5, 167, 171, 186, 188, 189, 195, 214, 216, 217, 220, 222, 223, 225, 228-31, 234-6, 249, 263, 264, 269, 270, 273-8, 280, 281, 284, 285, 287-90, 292, 300, 308, 318, 320-2, 325, 326, 330, 332, 335, 336, 3381, 340, 341, 343, 346, 350, 354-6, 358-62, 364-7, 370, 371, 374, 385, 386, 388-90, 392-5, 402, 404, 405, 413 Beyer, H. Otley 260 Bhumipol (King Rama IX) 253 Bidault, Georges 39, 153, 157 BIO (Bewind Indonesia in Overgangstijd) (Government Indonesia during Transition Period) 292, 363 Bird, Hugh R. 119,120,127 Blackham, R. C. 319, 374, 377-82, 384 Bland, Sir Neville 96, 97, 164, 165, 167, 172, 217, 218, 227, 232, 237 Blue Print for Burma 13, 209

Blum, Leon 157, 159, 238, 239, 306 Boetzelaer, C. H. van 165, 167, 221 Boissezon 152 Bollaert, Emile 240-2, 245, 302, 305-07 Bonfils 389 Boon, H. N. 282

Borneo 9, 21, 22, 25, 43, 53, 70, 78, 97, 107-8, 131, 230, 266, 368, 405 Bottomley, A. G. 196, 198, 343-5 Bourdillon, H. T. 50, 106 Bovenschen, Sir F. 54 Bowker, R. James 274, 275, 277-9, 318, 319, 345, 346, 348-50, 353-5 Braddell, Roland 18 Brain, H.N. 81,82, 84, 249 Brenan, Sir John 41 Bridges 57, 58 Briggs, H. R. 76, 147 British Military Administration (BMA) 106 British North Borneo Company 21, 108, 177, 179, 260 Broad, Philip 23 Bromley, J. 41 Brooke, Anthony 22, 107 Brooke, Bertram 107, 176 Brooke, James 21 Brooke, Kathleen 211 Brooke, Vyner 21, 22, 107 Browning, F. A. M. 68 Bruce, David 379, 381, 396 Brunei 21, 256, 405 Bryant, Sir Arthur 175 Bullitt, William C. 244 Burgess, Guy 377, 379, 405, 406 Burma 8, 9-17, 18, 19, 28, 29, 34, 36, 39, 40, 43-45, 47-49, 53, 56, 57, 62-77, 78, 89, 94, 95, 105, 131, 132, 134-51, 152,154,157,169, 173,174, 176,189, 190,193, 194-209, 211, 213, 220, 231, 235, 237, 238, 244, 265, 269-71, 272-9, 282, 285, 287, 300, 304, 309, 312, 316-20, 324, 328, 330, 334, 338, 342-56, 352, 357, 362, 366-8, 371, 373, 388, 391, 398-400, 402, 403, 406, 408,411,412 Burma Defence Army (BDA) 62, 64-69 Burma Military Mission 207, 273, 274, 349, 350 Burmese Communist Party (BCP) 141, 204, 274, 275 Burmese Socialist Party (BSP) 279 Burton, John 9, 192, 223, 284, 366 Butler, Nevile 6, 42 Butler, R. A. 196, 200 Butler, Somerset 181 Butterworth, W. Walton 302, 320, 321, 340, 341,363,381,383 Buu Loc, Prince 380 Bylandt, W. E L. van 160, 162 Cadogan, Sir Alexander 33, 48, 282, 362, 365 Caffery, Jefferson 152, 243

INDEX Caine, Sir Sydney 194 Cairncross, A. K. 342 Calcutta Youth Conference (1948) 265, 310 Cambodia 152, 183, 242, 245, 387, 402 Campbell, Sir A. 64 Canada 394 Cedile, Jean 81 Ceylon 8, 49, 95, 127, 147, 176, 188, 189, 193, 202, 205, 235, 270, 318, 322, 327, 334, 336-8, 353, 360, 381, 403 Chair, Somerset de 13 Chan Htoon 344, 345 Chauk 277 Chauvel, Jean 239 Cheeseman, H. R. 210 Cheke, D. J. 178,179 Chequers talks 97-100, 102 Chettle, G. 64, 144 Chiang Kai-shek 23, 340, 406 Chifley, J. B. 163, 169, 223, 264, 283, 313, 343, 347, 366, 413 China, Chinese i, 11, 12, 17, 18, 20, 23, 24, 30, 33, 36, 38, 40, 44, 48, 51, 53-5, 58, 61, 78, 80, 82, 83, 85, 124, 152, 156, 158, 159, 164, 174, 177, 180, 183, 187, 188, 202, 204-06, 228, 251, 252, 257, 265, 266, 270-3, 276, 277, 279, 280, 284, 285, 291, 292, 297, 308, 309, 315, 316, 318, 323, 331-5, 339, 3341, 342, 346-8, 351-3, 355, 366, 369, 373, 376, 380, 387, 389, 391, 392, 394, 396, 399, 401, 404-06, 410, 411 Chins 141, 197, 348 Christison, Sir Philip 89, 90, 92, 93, 95, 101 Christofas, Kenneth 268, 319, 330, 366, 367, 376, 377, 397, 398 Chulalongkorn (King Rama V) 22 Churchill, Winston S. 4, 7, 10, 11, 13-15, 23, 25, 36, 40, 43, 50, 52, 62, 132, 177, 208, 209 Circular No. 9 177, 211 Clark, W. E. Le Gros 107 Clarke, H. Ashley 25, 41-3, 157-9, 241, 242, 301, 304, 307, 308, 377, 381, 382, 387, 413 Clauson, G. 127 Clementi, Sir Cecil 18, 21, 106 Cochin-China 39, 84-7, 151-5, 158, 161, 238, 241, 303, 374, 375, 377, 378 Cochran, H. Merle, Cochran Plan 285, 287-91, 293, 294, 362-5, 367, 368, 370, 372 Coe, W. J. 408 Collis, Maurice 11, 75

481

Colombo Conference (1950) 324-6, 328, 332, 333, 335-9, 342, 352, 353, 392-5, 408-10 Combined Food Board (CFB) 27, 114, 127 Combined Thai Rice Commission (CTRC) 114 Cominform 7 Cominindo 153, 157 Commissioner-General, also Special Commissioner 46-50, 57-9, 61, 126, 133, 188-93, 267, 276, 332, 333. See also MacDonald, Malcolm Commonwealth 6, 8, 9, 28, 31, 35, 36, 38, 52, 61, 64, 71, 109, 118, 144, 146, 148-50, 170, 171, 187, 194, 195, 197-208, 220, 225, 227, 228, 235, 264, 267, 270, 272-4, 276, 278, 279, 289, 316, 317, 322, 324-9, 331-3, 335, 336, 342-7, 349, 351-4, 356, 363, 365, 366, 372, 373, 381, 388, 389, 392, 395, 400, 408, 410 Cooper, Duff 46, 47, 49, 85, 158, 159, 185, 186, 237, 240, 413 Corner, Frank H. 407 Coste-Floret, Paul 308, 373, 375, 376 Coultas, W. W. 120 Cranborne, Lord 40 Cripps, Sir Stafford 8. 15, 16, 63, 67, 204, 206, 208, 278, 334-7, 350, 413 Critchley, T. K. 236, 281, 283, 366-8 Crombie, J. I. C. 351 Crosby, Sir Josiah 22, 299 Crowther, F. H. 241 Cumberland 66 Cuong De 39 Czechoslovakia 7, 264, 309 Daily Express 348 Dalat 152 Dalley, F. W. 310 Dalley, John 249, 311 Darmasetiawan 366, 368, 369 Darul Islam 369 Davidson 239, 240 Delhi conference (1947) 187, 323 Delhi conference (1949) 322, 324-6, 331, 342, 361, 362, 406, 407 Dempsey, Sir Miles 101 Dening, M. Esler (Bill) 12-14, 16, 23, 24, 27, 28, 30, 36, 48-50, 53, 55, 56, 58, 59, 79, 80, 82, 89-94,106,110, 111, 116-24, 134, 164-7, 170, 172, 188, 189,191,192, 204, 207, 213, 221, 225, 226, 229-32, 236, 238, 244, 245, 251, 253, 257, 267, 269, 273, 275, 277, 280, 285-7, 291, 295, 297-9, 301, 307, 308,

482

INDEX

Dening, M. Esler (Bill) (cont.) 312, 313, 320, 322, 326, 330, 332, 334, 340, 343, 351, 358, 361, 364, 368, 369, 376, 383, 385, 391, 395, 402, 406, 409, 413 Dennis, P. 254 Direk Chaiyanam 29, 30, 253, 254, 297, 299 Dixon, Pierson 54, 186, 188 Doidge, F. W. 393 Doll, W. M. 122,128,182, 299 Donnison, F. S. V. 140, 150 Dorman-Smith, Sir Reginald 10-18, 43, 64-77,134,135, 206, 414 Douglas, Lewis W. 364, 365 Drees, Willem 161, 236, 293, 370, 371 Drumright, Everett 159, 296 DuBois, Coert 281-3, 287 Dugardier, Roger 383, 387, 390, 391 Dunkirk, Treaty of 186, 240 Dutch See Netherlands Dutt, S. 342, 408 EMaung, 351,353-5 Eberwein, Lily 211 ECAFE 190, 193, 333 Economic Cooperation Administration 358 Eden, Anthony 24-26, 414 Elizabeth, Princess 351 Elizalde, Joaquin 406 'Emergency' See Malaya ENIGMA 51 Escareal, Agripino 260, 261, 405 European Recovery Program 272, 292 Evans, W. 386, 387 Evatt, H. V. 9, 284, 285, 297, 300, 338, 342, 344, 367, 406 Everson, F. C. 96, 215, 250 Federated Malay States 17-19, 21 Fontainebleau conference 152-3 Foote, Walter 96, 170, 214, 218, 219, 221, 223-5 Formosa 321, 341 Foreign Jurisdiction Act 19-22 Foulds, L.W. 15, 30, 31, 45, 65, 129, 180, 254, 255, 257, 258, 260, 309 France, French 2, 7, 9, 30, 33, 36-9, 41, 44, 51, 52, 58, 69, 77, 83-5, 91, 118, 124, 128, 134, 150, 151, 157, 159, 185, 186, 190, 193,194, 223, 226, 233, 236, 238, 244, 249, 250, 252, 263-5, 268, 272, 274, 285, 295, 296, 298, 302, 315, 318, 339, 341, 342, 357-9, 367, 374-7, 385, 392, 395, 399, 410-12 Franco 391

Franks, Sir Oliver 186, 285, 288, 358, 370, 390 Fraser, Peter 342, 347, 348 Freeman, John 207 Free Siamese Movement 24, 26, 30 French Communist Party 154,158,239, 241 Frontier Areas Commission of Enquiry (FACE) 196, 198, 199 Fulton ('Iron Curtain') speech 7, 52, 132 Gage, Berkeley 216, 219, 221, 222, 229, 232,368 Gallman, Waldemar J. 123, 151 Galsworthy, A. N. 58 Gammans, L. D. 106, 108, 174 Garner, J J . S. 338 Gater, Sir George 50, 58 Gaulle, Charles de 39, 79 Gent, Sir Edward 18, 26, 49-50, 59, 105, 173-5,209-11,311 George VI 167, 300, 350, 385 Germany, Germans 2, 4, 6, 7, 38, 41, 51, 52, 186, 263, 361 Ghulam Mohammed 336, 393 Gibbons, E. 79 Gibbs, Frank 243, 245, 303, 305-07, 373, 376, 377, 395 Gilbert, Pierre Eugene 302 Gilchrist, Andrew 36 Glass, Leslie 349-52, 354, 356 Gollan, H. R. 342 Good Offices Committee See United Nations Commission for Indonesia Gordon-Walker, Patrick 324, 361 Gracey, Douglas 78-82, 84, 88, 89, 368 Graham, Frank P. 234-6, 281, 287 Graves, H. A. 156, 302, 308, 320-2, 364, 381 Greenhough, A. 226 Griffin, R. Allen 355 Grey, P. F. 233-6, 273-5, 279, 281, 282, 287, 288, 291, 296, 299, 303 Grigg, Sir James 36 Guingona, Teopista 179 Guiringaud, Louis de 239, 303 Gurney, Sir Henry 311, 402 Hadong 242 Hailey, Lord 339 Haiphong 85, 154, 158, 186 Halifax, Lord 33, 41, 121, 122 Hall, George 26, 50, 57, 108, 174 Hankey, Robin 317 Hanoi 77, 85, 153, 154, 158, 186, 238, 377 Harriman, Averell 364 Harrison, F. B. 177, 260

INDEX Harvey, Sir Oliver 168, 308, 358, 383, 391, 394 Hashim, Sultan of Brunei 21 Hatta 100, 282, 285-9, 293-5, 359, 366, 370, 414 Helb, H. A. 364 Helfrich, C. E. L. 41,92 Henderson, A. 75 Henderson, Loy 343, 380 Hibbert, R. A. 316, 340 Hirschfeld, H. M. 215 Ho Chi Minh 79, 85-87, 151-7, 159, 237-45, 266, 302-06, 330, 374-8, 381, 384, 385, 387, 388, 390, 393, 396 Hodsoll,E 129 Hoge Veluwe talks 100, 104, 160, 161 Hollis, L. C. 116 Holmes, Julius 379 Hone, Ralph 19, 59 Hong Kong 27, 47, 147, 389, 391, 396, 404 Hood, Lord 381, 382 Hoogstraten, J. E. V. 232 Hopson, Donald 378-80, 382, 386, 387, 389 Hughes, T.L. 71,135, 136 Hunter, J. M. 258 Idenburg, P.J.A. 215 Inder Singh, Anita 317 India 1, 8-13, 17, 24, 48, 49, 53, 58, 61, 86, 95, 96, 126, 133, 145-7, 150, 169, 174, 176,187-9,193, 194, 199, 201, 202, 204, 205, 207, 213, 217, 220, 221, 223-5, 227, 235, 237, 238, 264, 266, 267, 269-73, 276, 282, 284, 285, 292, 316-20, 322-5, 329, 331, 332, 334-6, 340-4, 349, 350, 353, 356, 357, 359-61, 363, 367, 368, 370, 372, 379-81, 384, 386-8, 392, 393, 395, 396, 403, 406, 409-12 Indian troops 72-76, 91, 97, 99, 101, 102, 122, 138, 140, 141, 147-9 Indo-China 2, 8, 26, 28, 30, 31, 36, 37-40, 41, 53, 54, 56, 69, 70, 73, 77-87, 88, 111, 113, 125, 128, 131, 134, 151-9, 188,189, 191, 223, 225, 233, 236-45, 249, 266, 267, 269-71, 285, 301-08, 309, 312, 315, 316, 318, 323, 328, 329, 334, 339, 351, 367, 373-97, 398, 402, 404 Indonesia 2, 8, 11, 27, 40-3, 53, 56, 61, 69, 70, 73, 75, 87-105,131,133,149,150, 151-73, 188, 189, 210, 211-36, 241, 243, 266-71, 280-95, 302,309, 311, 312, 315, 316, 318, 320-3, 325-8, 331,

483

339, 342, 343, 357-73, 380, 403, 404, 409 International Emergency Food Council (IEFC) 189, 190, 193 Inverchapel, Lord See Kerr •Ireland 63, 201, 205, 206 Ismay, Sir Hastings 77, 160 Jakarta See Batavia Japan, Japanese 2-5 10, 14, 16, 20, 21, 23, 24, 26, 30-3, 35-7, 39-41, 43-5 48-51, 53-5, 62, 65, 68, 69, 79, 81, 83, 88, 89, 91,94,101,105,106,110,117, 119-21, 164, 183, 237, 269, 315, 321, 333, 340, 342, 405, 408, 412 Java 73, 87, 89, 91-2, 94-7, 100, 101, 103, 107, 160-2, 165, 168,170, 176, 214, 215, 224, 227, 228, 233, 239, 283, 287, 290, 357, 369, 370 Jayawardene, J. R. 336, 337 Jessup, Philip C. 355, 358 Joekes, A. M. 230 Johnson, Herschel 224, 225 Jones, Arthur Creech 106, 173, 176, 209, 210 Jones, Mervyn 256 Jonkman, J. A. 171, 212-14 Joubert, Sir Philip 12, 49 Kachins 17,141,197,198,206,272,274,348 Karens 10, 17, 195-200, 206, 208, 272, 274, 278, 343-51, 353-6 Kashmir 270, 288, 333 Kaumlbu211 Keeble, H. B. C. 369, 385-7, 389, 390 Keeling, William 176 Kennan, George F. 52, 339-41, 390, 409 Kerr, Archibald Clark (Lord Inverchapel) 100, 101, 103, 104, 163, 169, 187, 214, 215, 217, 235, 247, 252, 298 Keskar 381 Khin Maung Gale 199 Khuang Aphaiwong 245, 247-50, 252, 254, 267, 296-8 Killearn, Lord 60-2, 76, 126, 133, 134, 144, 160,162-70, 177, 178, 180, 181, 190-2, 205, 220, 223, 224, 226, 227, 231, 239, 247, 249, 253, 254, 267, 414 Kinna, P. F 395 Kirby, R. C. 163, 280 Kleffens, E. N. van 92, 224, 225 Knight, Sir Henry 134-7 Koets, P. J. 229-31 Korea 284, 321, 341, 402, 404, 406, 407, 410,412 Kra 23-5, 27, 28, 33, 34, 118, 119, 301, 398

484

INDEX

Kuomintang (KMT) 17 Kyaw Nyein 201, 278, 279, 344 Labuan 21 Lacy, William S. 377 Lai Tek 310, 311 Laithwaite, Gilbert 74, 76, 77, 136-8, 140-4, 146, 148, 151, 194, 196-8, 201, 205, 208, 324 Lambert, E. T. 152, 154, 193 Landon,K.R 31,244, 250 Langson 154, 158 Laos 152, 242, 245, 387, 402 Law, Richard 16 LawsonJJ. 81,83, 88-90 Le Roy, Jean 134, 193, 385, 387, 388 Le Van Hoach 238 Leclerc, Philippe 81, 84, 85 Ledwidge, Bernard 198, 207, 346 Lenin 7, 265 Liesching, Sir Percivale 337 Lin Piao 396 Linehan,W. R. 211 Linggadjati 131, 160, 170, 188, 212, 214, 217, 222, 227-31, 236, 362 Listowel, Lord 15, 203, 206, 208, 229, 345, 347 Lloyd, J. O. 285, 289, 291, 304, 312, 328, 366, 367, 376, 396, 398, 408, 409 Lockett, Thomas H. 405, 406 Logemann, J. H. A. 88, 93, 95, 98, 230 Lovett, Richard A. 222, 224, 225, 318, 358 Lovink, A. H. J. 292, 294, 359, 370 Lucas, C. P. 21 Lyttelton, Oliver 46 Mabane, William 36 MacArthur, Douglas 44, 53, 69, 77, 97, 105 Macapagal, Diosdado 405 Macaskie, C. F. C. 179 MacBryan, Gerard 107 MacDermot, D. F. 129, 257 MacDonald, Malcolm 133, 173-6, 191, 192, 205, 209, 210, 226, 267, 311, 318, 321, 325, 328, 330-2, 334, 342, 343, 355, 357, 389-95, 397, 402, 404, 407, 414 MacDougall, Sir Raibeart 10, 72, 142-4, 147,151,414 McGuire, R. E. 208 Mclntosh, Alister 406 MacKereth, Gilbert 160-2, 164, 165, 167, 168, 172, 212 McKerron, P. 19 MacMichael, Sir Harold 49, 59, 106, 174, 176 McNeil, Hector 351, 403, 407

McVey, Ruth 265 Mackworth Young, R. C. 282, 289, 290, 292,302-04, 374 Madagascar 223 Madamba 260, 261 Madiun 271, 286, 289, 294, 364, 373 Madura 281, 283 Mahidol (King Rama VIII) 119, 183 Makins, Roger 41, 337, 352, 379 Malan, D. F. 335 Malaya 8, 9, 14, 17-20, 21-5, 27, 28, 32, 34, 35, 43, 47, 48, 50, 56, 57, 59, 64, 69, 70, 78, 95, 105-08,109, 127, 131, 134, 136, 147, 154, 166, 168, 173-5, 176, 177, 182,183,188,193, 202, 205, 209-11, 209, 217, 220, 227, 249, 253, 265-7, 269, 270, 277, 285-90, 300, 301, 304, 309-13, 316, 319, 321, 323, 329, 339, 344, 357, 365, 373, 376, 380, 383, 391, 396, 398-404, 402-05, 407, 410,411 Malay Nationalist Party (MNP) 166, 173, 209 Malayan Communist Party (MCP) 106, 173,211,310-12,404 Malayan Democratic Union (MDU) 107 Malayan Indian Congress (MIC) 210 Malayan People's Anti-Japanese Army (MPAJA) 105, 106, 312 Malayan Planning Unit 19 Malino 167 Mallaby, A. E. W. S. 95 Manchuria 284 Manila 177 Marie, Andre 3 Marshall, George C. 189, 217, 224. 225, 235, 236, 263, 264, 287-9, 318 Marshall Aid, Plan 186, 270, 285, 317, 318, 325, 328, 340 Massigli, Rene 390-2, 394, 396 Matthews, H. T. 225 Maung Gyee 275 Maxwell, Sir George 106 Mayhew, C. 403 Mayne, Sir Mosley 73 Mehta 368 Meiklereid, E. W. 85, 86, 151, 152, 154, 155, 158, 238 Mello Kamath, F. M. de 388 Menon, Krishna 229-31, 284, 287, 366, 381, 388 Metcalf, N. R. 408 Michiels van Verduynen, E. F. M. J. 93, 100, 102,169,171,172, 214, 218, 219, 221, 230, 234, 267, 269, 280, 360, 364, 369 Middle East 46, 52, 54, 131, 335, 338, 411

INDEX Millar, F. Hoyer 172 Mitcheson, J. M. L. 213, 215, 216, 218-20, 224 Moffat, A. L. 96 123, 155, 156, 158, 214, 238, 239, 246, 247, 250 Molotov,V. 186 Mongkut (King Rama IV) 22 Monroe Doctrine 4 Monson, W. B. L. 59 Monteath, Sir David 12, 76, 136, 137, 142, 146,192,198,201,267 Montgomery, Sir Bernard 147 Mook, H. J. van 40, 88, 89, 92, 95, 97-105, 160-2, 164, 167, 168, 173, 213, 215, 216, 218-21, 223, 229, 233, 234, 238, 282, 286, 294, 295, 311, 404, 414 Morocco 157, 223, 375, 390 Morley,A. F. 141,198,206 Morliere 237 Morris, O. H. 211 Mountbatten, Admiral Lord Louis 11, 12, 14, 16, 17, 30, 32, 35, 49, 50, 52, 53, 55-7, 61-70, 72, 74-84, 88-96, 99, 101, 106, 111, 114-16, 118, 134, 135, 150, 160, 161, 187, 203, 279, 293, 317, 414 See also SEAC

Mountbatten, Lady 88 Moutet, Marius 152, 153, 158, 159, 238, 239 Mouvement Republicain Populaire (MRP) 158 Mudaliar, Sir R. 409 Munster, Lord 209 Murray, Peter 206,244,272-4,276,279,342 Mus, Paul 241 Muso 286, 287, 289-91 Mya 201 Myers, E. C.J. 82 Nash, P. G. 202, 205 Nathan, Lord 60, 61, 127, 181, 182 Ne Win 346, 348-51,354 Neher, L. 286, 294 Nehru, J. 8, 99, 140, 169, 187, 227, 231, 237, 285, 289, 290, 323, 325-7, 330, 331, 335, 337, 343, 344, 347, 348, 353, 361, 366, 378, 388, 390, 393, 396, 406, 408 Netherlands 2, 7, 9, 11, 14, 37, 38, 40-3, 52, 54, 58, 69, 77, 83, 84, 97, 88, 90, 91, 94, 101-04, 131, 149-51, 157, 159-68, 170, 188, 212, 213, 217, 224-6, 228, 231, 234, 239, 241, 242, 265, 266, 268, 269, 272, 274, 280, 281, 283, 311, 315, 318, 322, 328, 331, 339, 357-9, 362, 366, 371, 372, 380, 399, 403, 410-12

485

Netherlands India See Indonesia New Guinea 69, 368, 405 New Zealand 8, 38, 48, 54, 55, 57, 62, 110, 205, 224, 271, 313, 322, 325, 326, 336, 337, 342, 360, 361, 384, 393, 395, 406, 407, 409 Newboult, Alexander 19, 174, 175 Ngo Dinh Diem 39, 386 Nguyen Van Thinh 154 Nguyen Van Xuan 303, 305, 306, 357 Nichols, Sir Philip 291-3, 358, 359, 362-5, 367-72 Noble, Margaret 175, 176 Noel-Baker, Philip 106, 165, 234, 284, 324, 332,408 North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) 264, 317, 318, 320, 321, 325, 328, 405, 408 North Borneo 21, 271, 256 Nu 199, 200, 303, 204, 206-08, 273, 275, 318, 343, 344, 346, 347, 349-51, 353, 354 Nye, Sir A. 323, 324, 330-2, 342 Office of Strategic Services (OSS) 29, 31, 116 Officer, Keith 339 Ogburn, Charlton 396 Ohn, Maung 345, 353, 354, 356 oil 221 Onnl07, 173-5, 210, 211 Organisation for European Economic Cooperation (OEEC) 270 O'Sullivan 243 Osmena, S. 45 Oxford Group 231 Pacific Pact 329, 340, 342, 405, 407, 408 Pakistan 264, 270, 271, 276, 282, 284, 285, 317, 320, 323, 326, 332, 334, 336, 340, 344, 346, 347, 349, 350, 353, 359, 360, 362, 367, 368, 381, 388, 392, 393, 409 Palliser, A. M. 243, 248-50, 252-4, 285, 286, 295, 296, 301, 366, 380, 398 Pan-Malayan Council for Joint Action (PMCJA) 209-11,310 Pandit, Mrs 406 Panglong 196, 197 Panikkar, K M. 339, 406 Parodi, Alexandre 391, 395 Pasundan 281 Patnaik 227 Pearn, B. R. 140 Pearson, L. 394 People's Volunteer Organisation (PVO) 72, 138,140, 274, 277, 291, 346, 348

486

INDEX

Perham, Margery 107 Perks, J. P. H. 90 Permanent Under-Secretary's Committee (PUSC) 317, 332, 352, 409 Pethick-Lawrence, Lord 70, 71, 106, 126, 137-9, 145, 147, 149, 209 Philippines 11, 14-16, 43-5, 65, 69, 108, 128-30, 132, 168, 177-80, 188, 236, 237, 254-61, 265-7, 309, 340-2, 367, 368, 382, 386, 405-10 Pibun 22, 29, 119, 120, 128, 246-53, 288, 295-300, 309, 319, 375, 382, 396-8, 402, 402, 414 Pignon, Leon 79, 155, 158, 307, 308, 374, 376,379-82,390,391,393 Plas, C. van der 89, 90, 92, 95 Point 4 (Truman inaugural) 318, 331, 334, 340,341,351 Portal 93, 95 Portugal 391 Post, Laurens van der 88 Potsdam 53 Prescott, R. G. B. 147 Pridi ('Ruth') 22, 24, 29, 31, 32, 110-13, 115,119, 120, 125, 128, 181-3, 245, 246, 248-54, 299, 300 Proud, J. C. R. 100 Pusat Tenaga Rakyat (PUTERA) 209-11, 310 Queuille, H. 375 Quirino, Elpidio 177, 180, 254, 255, 257, 382, 405-07 Rahimtoola, Habib 284 Ramadier, P. 239, 240, 242, 245, 308 Ramage, M. B. 309 Ranee, Sir Hubert 69, 136-42, 144-9, 157, 196, 200-02, 204, 206, 207, 209, 273 Rangoon 15, 16, 47, 66, 68, 138, 147, 273, 275, 277, 278, 344, 347-9, 352 Rangsit, Prince 248, 251, 252, 254, 297 Rankeillour, Lord 209 Rassemblement du Peuple Francais (RPF) 305 Reed, Charles S. 308, 364 Rees-Williams, D. R. 108, 174, 175, 198, 199,201,202,278,334,403 Renville229, 232, 280, 287, 292, 262 Rhee, Syngman 406 rice, rice delivery 26, 27, 29, 34-37, 46, 60, 105, 108, 109, 111, 112, 114-19, 121-8, 133, 143, 150, 180-3, 189, 190, 235, 245-8, 267, 271-3, 276, 297-300, 397 Rice Unit 125, 181

Rich, Stanley 122 Ringwalt, Arthur 395 Roberts, Frank 52, 380, 408 Robinson, K. E. 58, 59 Roem 366 Roijen, J. H. van 164, 365, 366 Romme, C. P. M. 171 Romulo, C. 340, 406-09 Roosevelt, F. D. 4, 23, 37, 39 Ross, James 260 Ross, R. 407, 408 Round Table Conference 363-5, 367, 370, 371 Roxas, Manuel 108, 177, 260 rubber 17, 105 Rumbold, A. 342 Russia 4, 6, 7, 38, 51, 52, 54, 61, 163, 166, 185, 186, 213, 220, 223, 224, 228, 229, 236, 240, 244, 263-5, 272, 275, 276, 278, 281, 282, 284-6, 297, 299, 312, 313, 317, 318, 321-4, 329, 332, 333, 340, 341, 354, 357-9, 371, 373, 394, 395,409 Sabah claim 21, 178-80, 256, 259 260, 267, 309, 405 Saigon 78, 80, 82, 91 Sainteny, Jean 86, 157, 237 Sainteny-Ho Chi Minh agreement (6 March 1946) 85, 100, 103, 151, 152, 160,171,245,373 Salan, Raoul 85, 86, 237 Salter, Sir A. 36 Sanderson, H. L. 27, 29, 118, 125 Sansom, Sir G. 24, 30, 45, 123 Sarawak 21, 22, 50, 107, 108, 174-6, 177, 211,266,271,405 Sargent, Sir Orme 6, 51, 57, 91, 102, 163, 164, 182,186, 188, 219, 228, 274, 278, 280, 282, 289, 292 Sassen, E.J. M. A. 362 Saw 76, 136, 139, 141, 144, 196, 206 Scarlett, Peter 406 Schermerhorn, Willem 96-98, 104, 161, 165,169, 212, 215, 217, 218, 221, 226 Schuman, Robert 304, 358, 374, 379, 386, 390, 394, 395 Schneiter 395 Schuurman, T. Elink 364 Scott, Robert 346, 352, 367, 368, 372, 377, 381,388,389, 391,395, 400, 401 Scrivener, P. S. 268, 305, 358, 377, 386 Senanayake, D. S. 324, 332 Seni Pramoj 23, 115, 119, 122, 247, 248, 299 Setyadit 231

INDEX Shans 32, 117, 141, 150, 197, 346, 348 Sharkey, L. 310 Shepherd, Sir Francis 231, 232, 236, 281-3, 286, 288-94, 359, 360, 364, 366, 367 Shone, Sir Terence 317 Siam See Thailand Simpson 76 Simpson-Jones 85, 153 Singapore 2, 8, 17, 19, 28, 38, 44, 47, 49, 89, 122, 131, 147, 160, 169, 182, 190, 193, 209, 209, 212, 213, 222, 231, 239, 240, 249, 251, 252, 267, 268, 274, 284, 310, 377, 407 Sissons, N. 179 Sjahrir 95, 97-101, 160-2, 164, 165, 167-71, 212, 214, 215-18, 228-31, 235, 237, 238, 294, 362, 373, 414 Sjarifuddin 220, 227, 229, 236, 286, 414 Slim, Sir William 64, 65, 72, 81, 83, 84, 90, 93 Smith, Sir Ben 126, 127, 150 Smith, F. W. H. 151 Smith, H. Wilson 207 Smith, R. B. 132 So Nyun 351 Soe 64, 136, 140 South Africa 63, 205, 332, 333, 335 South East Asia Command (SEAC) 11, 12, 25, 27, 29, 32, 35, 37, 48-50, 52-7, 61, 70, 78-80, 82, 84, 89, 90, 92, 109, 111, 112,133 Soviet Union See Russia Spaak, Paul-Henri 285 Special Commissioner See CommissionerGeneral, Malcolm MacDonald Special Operations Executive (SOE) 25, 31, 63, 64, 110 Spender, Percy 336-8, 393 Spoor, Simon 165, 216, 221 Squire, C. W. 170 Stanley, Oliver 22, 42 Stalin, J.V. 7, 39, 317 Stanton, E. 246-51, 296, 298, 299, 302, 382, 402 Steere, Loyd 292, 294 Stettinius, Edward R. 39 Stevenson, Sir R. Skrine 133, 339 Stewart, A. C. 366, 370 Stewart, Duncan 405 Stikker, Dirk 287-91, 293-5, 357, 359, 363-6, 368, 370, 371, 405 Stopford, Sir Montagu 72, 76 139, 147, 148 Strang, Sir William 319, 334, 342, 346, 362, 391 Street, John 192, 213, 217, 218, 220-3, 224-7, 231-5, 241-5, 301

487

Stuart, Francis 242 Stubbs, R. M. 311 Subandrio 228-30, 289 Sukarno 87, 89, 90, 93, 95, 164, 168, 169, 170, 216, 218, 229, 230, 233, 237, 287, 289, 294, 358, 366, 373, 414 Sulu 21, 260, 309 Sun Yat-sen 228 Swettenham, F. A. 106 Surabaya 89, 91, 95, 96, 98 Syria 238, 240, 377, 444 Syriam 277 Tan Cheng Lock 209 Tan Malaka 171, 290 Temple 350 Templer, Sir G. 350 Thakins 16, 62, 64, 65 Thailand 9, 11,14, 22-36, 37, 45, 56, 88, 94, 108-28, 132, 154, 180-3, 189, 191, 206, 239, 242, 245-54, 259, 265, 268, 270, 272, 276, 295-301, 309, 312, 315, 318-20, 328, 335, 342, 357, 380, 383, 386, 387, 391, 395, 396, 397-402, 403, 406, 409 Than Tun 68, 94 Thawan Thamrongnawasawat 246, 247, 251, 254, 295 Thawi Bunyaket 115 Thein Pe 141, 274 Thivy, John 209 Thomas, L. C. 350 Thomas, Sir Shenton 18 Thompson, (Sir) Geoffrey 128, 180, 182, 183, 246-54, 268, 295-301, 319, 383, 384, 396-402, 407 Timberman 116 Times 13, 16, 138, 239, 240 Tin Tut 138, 141-6, 148, 199, 201, 207, 208, 273, 275, 276, 278 Tomlinson, F. S. 178, 255, 257-9, 309, 406, 407 Townsend, D. F. 378 Tran Trong Kim 39 Tran Van Giau 80 Trevor-Wilson, Arthur Geoffrey 85, 86 Truman, Harry S. 7, 78, 179, 180, 224, 225, 244, 245, 255, 341, 410 Truman Doctrine 7, 186, 241 Tu Ve 159 Tuan Mao-Ian 159 Tun Ok 76 Tunisia 157, 223, 375 Turnbull, F. F. 142 Ukraine 100, 224, 282

488

INDEX

United Malays National Organisation (UMNO) 107, 173-5, 210, 211 United Nations 24, 32, 34, 37, 38, 43, 54, 96, 97, 100, 113, 118, 159, 161-4, 170, 172, 190, 214, 215, 220-7, 229, 236, 240, 243, 278, 281, 282, 290, 294, 300, 302, 304, 323, 330, 352, 354, 358-62, 364, 365, 368-72, 382, 389, 402-04 United Nations Commission for Indonesia (UNCI) 230-2, 234-6, 280-3, 290, 292, 302, 364, 370, 373 United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Agency (UNRRA) 26, 27, 35 Vallat, F. A. 256 Valluy, Jean 154, 159, 237, 242, 245 Vichy 2 Viet Minh 77, 79-82, 85, 88, 151-4, 158, 212, 237, 239, 241, 243, 245, 302-05, 307, 373, 375-7, 379, 391, 393, 394, 396 Vietnam 38, 39, 82, 83, 131, 150, 152, 156-8, 188, 233, 239, 302, 320, 342, 371, 374-6, 378-80, 383, 385, 387-9, 391,392,394,412 Vigeveno, M. F. 169 Vincent, John C. 96 Vo Nguyen Giap 159 Vredenburch, H. F. L. K van 213, 215, 218, 219,221,229,232,233,294 Vyshinshy, A. 54 Wakeley, L. J. D. 285, 323, 324, 342 Wallace, W. I. J. 147,148 Wallner, W. 244 Walmsley, A. R. 379 Walsh, H. C. 2, 96 Walsh-Atkins, L. B. 195, 197, 199

Walton, Sir John 12, 65 Wan Watthayakon 245 Watt, D. C. 5 Wavell, Lord 70, 73, 74, 99 Western Union 263, 264, 268, 269, 272, 280, 282, 284, 358, 360-2, 406, 408 White Paper (17 May 1945) 16, 17, 67, 71, 73, 134, 135, 137, 138, 143, 150, 188 Whitteridge, Gordon 87,125, 166, 167, 213, 220, 222, 230, 232, 237, 251, 253, 254, 297, 302, 303 Whittington, Richard 297, 298 Wilhelmina, Queen 40, 42, 92, 166 Willan, H. C. 106 Wilson, J. 85 Wilson-Young, I. A. D. 33, 55, 80, 87, 90, 91,104, 124, 163 Winantjohn 25-7, 115, 116, 123 Winckler,J.-C. 302 Wiwat, Prince 384 Wongsa, Prince 384 Wright, Michael 134, 188, 193, 212, 214, 269 Wrong, Hume 390 Yalta 39 Yenangyaung 277 Yogyakarta 100, 169, 215, 216, 218, 227, 229, 230, 232, 290, 293, 361, 362, 366, 371, 372 Yogyakarta, Sultan of (Hamengkubuwono IX) 369, 373 Yong Mun Cheong 171 Yost, Charles 117, 128, 180 Young, G. P. 25, 27 Young, N. E. 26, 27 Zhdanov 186