Jon Dunbar has an article at the Korea Times about the latest - and perhaps last - Peace Corps Revisit program, held on the 60th anniversary of the arrival of the Peace Corps in Korea in September 1966 - something I've written about before - during which 17 'K-1' Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) took part, along with other former PCVs.
Jon was kind enough to get me invited to an event last Friday where I got to talk to a number of K-1 (and later) PCVs, some of whom I'd been in email or online contact before. One such person was Charles Goldberg, though I couldn't remember how I knew his name until hours after the event, when I realized that my article from four years ago about the 1966 arrival of the Peace Corps in Korea ended with quotations from him (from a 1968 Stars and Stripes article); he'd actually reached out to me after reading my article years ago.
One person who came up in conversation was James Wade, who I've of course written about many times. It was mentioned that his 'Scouting the City' column (the subject of my first-ever Korea Times article) had reviewed the Peace Corps Korea newsletter Yobosayo, written and edited by volunteers themselves, so I looked through my archives for it. Here is the pertinent excerpt of “Scouting the City with Alf Racketts” by James Wade, Korea Times, December 16, 1967:
The Peace Corps newspaper put out in Korea called Yobosayo lends credence to the allegation that the PC is the most remorselessly self-analytic group in the world, or out of it. It is a lively sheet, though rather funereal in its layout and typography, and, unlike some other English tabloids distributed in Korea, it’s definitely not an official publication.
This paper has gripes, soul-searchings, protests, demands, arguments and spoofs, as well as hard news of in-group interest and helpful household hints for new arrivals in the boondocks. (We especially liked the story, complete with photo, of the PC dwelling along a rail line that put up a prominent sign “CLEAN REST ROOMS” for the benefit of arriving recruits.)
Both the japes and jeremiads are carried out in a light-hearted spirit characteristic of youth, bless their little hearts, and perhaps especially of the unique flavor of this particular portion of the present generation which may someday be known as “The Last of the Idealists.”
The heartening fact about these idealists, though, is that in far as one can judge from this little publication of theirs, their feet are pretty firmly planted on the ground.
Years ago I spent hours going through the Peace Corps Korea archive at the library website of the University of Southern California and made an index of all of the issues they hold and published it here. All good, at least until they reorganized their site and all the links were broken; I decided to provide a Wayback Machine link, but eventually these stopped working. Prompted over a year ago by Lenny Trudo (K-44), who kindly shared with me some later issues of Jam Pong not in the USC archive, I managed to download all of the available issues of Yobosayo (1966-70), The Noodle (1972?-74?; only 3 issues are preserved), and Jam Pong (1977-81) and put them online here.
During the conversation Friday night it was suggested Wade's review above was taking into account an article Charles Goldberg had written about Vietnam, though upon searching and finding it, it is more a consideration of the role of the Peace Corps - and individual volunteers - within the US foreign policy establishment (in the shadow of the ongoing war in Vietnam). This led to several responses by other PCVs, including future historian Bruce Cumings. I've reprinted them all below.
The first, from November 1967 (Yobosayo Vol. 2 No. 3), was written by Charles Goldberg:
Peace Corps' Burden
Take up the White Man's burden-
The savage wars of peace.
Fill full the mouth of Famine,
and bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest,
The end for others sought,
Watch Sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to naught.
Kipling spoke of the "White Man's burden" in an obnoxious way. He described "civilization's" new charges as "new-caught, sullen pеоples, half devil and half child," who cry, when "the light" is upon them,
Who brought ye us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?
What he describes, of course, is an important aspect of the Peace Corps experience. How many articles have we read, written in more gentle tones, about the frustrations of Volunteers trying to overcome the resistance to leave that "loved Egyptian night?" But, more importantly, are we not among those chosen to bring the "light" to Asia and the Southern Hemisphere?
For many of us in Peace Corps, the feeling is that we lack, or want no part of, the prerequisites needed to bring "the light" – the skills, a conviction that "the light" is good, a conception of what "the light" is. Further, it is a well-known virtue of Peace Corps Volunteers that they are open-minded, regarding "heathen" ways as first to be understood and even respected, even though they are not our ways.
For the most part, the people we encounter are quite friendly to us. They are receptive to us as people. And why should they not deal kindly with a person who wants primarily to sell only himself, and is eager to return their friendliness and to understand them? On this level, Kipling's harangue does not fit Peace Corps at all. But what I wish to examine is that which brought us here in the first place. On that level, I feel, Kipling describes us with brutal accuracy; and for those of us who deplore the self-righteous pietism of "The White Man's Burden," we must find the means to reconcile our being here with the forces that brought us here.
It is a commonplace that the man on the bottom of a large organization participates in the mobilization of forces largely beyond his control. In our case, the organization I refer to is not the Peace Corps, but the United States government. As members of Peace Corps, we represent a large-scale effort by the US government which is dubiously humanitarian. Peace Corps is a way of reaching people in other countries unlike anything which our government has utilized before. Through Peace Corps, it may be hoped by many, we are now able to direct our efforts to a stratum of the populace that has for many years been an important focus of communist appeal. We can be pointed to as an American expressions of general concern for the common man of Asian, African, and Latin American countries.
I would suggest however, that this concern is strongly subject to doubt. Peace Corps is wonderful public relations. It rounds out the diplomatic mission and puts it on a personal level. But, while we may place a high value on "mutual understanding," has our country's international posture reflected anything but the struggle for political control? The point is that Peace Corps' largely open-minded approach is belied by the political forces which brought it into being. In the international sphere, if not in the city or the town where the individual Volunteer is based, Peace Corps is fighting to tighten America's grip on the "Third World."
That great states should aspire to increase their power should perhaps be regarded as a given by the political realist. And some have argued well that the struggle for control has become idealized as a moral mission, an obligation to liberate underdeveloped pеоples from the stagnation of their backwardness. This naturally engenders a feeling of spiritual superiority on the part of the powerful country; and if you add to this a measure of compassion uncorrupted by understanding, you have the abhorrent pietism of "The White Man's Burden." In one of its aspects, which will be discussed later on, Peace Corps is somewhat of an antidote to this; but, in another way, and one that we may not be entirely conscious of, we are party to it.
In our quest for "mutual understanding," we hasten to make clear, we are apolitical; but whatever goodwill we have created, whatever stimuli we have given to development, there will always be a strange price tag attached: "Free! By the grace of Uncle Sam." In its affect, then, Peace Corps is a lever of foreign policy – and lever for manipulation.
Two Levels of PC
My point is that the Peace Corps may be seen on at least two levels: on the one hand, the organization and its ideals (coupled with the Volunteer and his ideals); and on the other, the organization as it fits into the general picture of American foreign policy. On the first level, let us examine some of the ideals which we have all heard about or have articulated ourselves. There is the ideal of being of service to the people of other countries, helping them to develop skills and the changes of attitude needed to use those skills more effectively. Peace Corps as an effective means of bringing technological skills to others has been a subject of debate for several years. It is highly questionable whether very much can be done in this area. There is a good case, however, for Peace Corps as an instrument for helping to bring about needed changes in attitude. But, measured in terms of its achievements to date, I doubt that we have produced very much along these lines. The "Egyptian night" seems to be a running theme of most Peace Corps memories. Pending further investigation of what we have done and what we can do in this last area, I think it is not unfair to say that Peace Corps has not done very much to effect basic changes needed for development.
A second ideal is "mutual understanding," a broadening of perspectives in both individuals and nations. On a personal level, there is no quarreling with "mutual understanding." Both the Volunteers and the people they come into contact with are greatly stimulated by their being brought together, and the result is a large measure of personal growth on both sides. This, it seems to me, is the finest thing about the Peace Corps. By serving this function, it offsets somewhat the self-righteousness of the "White Man's Burden."
But, when we speak of "mutual understanding" in international terms, I wonder if we aren't letting our ideals run away with us. Hands across the sea have real meaning only when there is something in them. And from the viewpoint of a great nation, understanding the other fellow is the best foundation for getting control over him. A great diplomatist, Francis de Callieres, noted that the best way for one nation to gain influence over another was for its leaders to understand thoroughly the people of the other country and to peасеfully use this understanding to manipulate them. (De Callieres also said, I should add, that war should only be the last resort, when all other means of attaining one's ends have failed. He thought that belligerent embroilments were the mark of poor diplomacy.) But when understanding other countries means also that control over them is ruled out, then such understanding is certainly not needed. I have heard that it is quite difficult for ex-Volunteers to get jobs with policy-making branches of the State Department. Whether this be true or not, policy makers, certainly in the light of their actions, seem to have little need for those who disagree, no matter how well-informed the dissenter may be.
American Goodwill
Then, there is a third ideal: the exhibition of America's goodwill. Peace Corps has been quite successful at this; but goodwill can be used for any number of reasons – and the spreaders of the goodwill can also be so used.
I submit that there are these two levels of Peace Corps, and that for the run of general US policy it does not particularly matter how business is done on the other level. The only thing of importance is that Peace Corps is there, and that its ideals not only bolster America's image in the eyes of other, but also in the eyes of all Americans, common citizens and policymakers alike. The immense range of freedoms possessed by the individual Volunteer (including the new-won freedom to speak out against the war in Vietnam) speaks well for the willingness of high officials to take risks in order to insure the freedom and growth of America's young citizenry. But then again, is the risk so great? Probably not, when set against the impact of the Peace Corps ideal and the resoluteness of US policy.
In this light, the recent incident involving Volunteers in Chile becomes an interesting case in point. It showed that Peace Corps has the freedom to grant privileges to its members which other branches of the government do not. But it occurs to me that the affairs of individual PCV's are not particularly the concern of those who make foreign policy. Even when Volunteers are critical, they do not endanger (or have not yet endangered) the impact of the ideal. Yet another twist is that while the Chilean Volunteers deplored the US presence in Vietnam, they failed to mention that they were serving essentially the same purpose by being in Chile the spread of American influence abroad. Of course, they disagreed with the means for attaining that end, but if they disagreed with the end too (and I rather suppose that they did), they might well have argued that the Peace Corps get out of Chile.
If the goals of US policy are the goals of "The White Man's Burden," we have reason to detest them. But if we accept (as I accept tentatively) that it is in the nature of great nations to have such goals, then we must talk about the most humane means to achieve them. Peace Corps has spread goodwill and broadened those who have come into contact with it. Whether it has achieved much of anything else is debatable. These accomplishments, however, are great in themselves, and they should certainly not be minimized. Still, other measures, other missions are needed to spread US influence to as many areas of these societies as possible. The Peace Corps is one of a number of such missions, and in this capacity it is a participant in the US quest for power.
Idealistic Image
The image of Peace Corps is an idealistic one, and, I think, its very function is to be idealistic. The individual Volunteer, however, should not fool himself by regarding himself, in no matter how sophisticated a way, as a seeker for international understanding. Nor should he think that he can effectively struggle against policies with which he disagrees by being a member of the Peace Corps. Peace Corps is not something unto itself. In fact, it puts the finishing touches to those self-same policies. The Volunteer in the field can learn a great deal, and so can those around him. He might also be able to be of some assistance. These are both practical ideals. But he can't do very much to change his own country.
Finally, I should say that my purpose in writing this was to propose an individual dilemma for the Peace Corps Volunteer. The dilemma is this: If the Volunteer agrees with his country's stance in the international realm, he faces no great perplexities; and if he is able to be utterly indifferent to it, he is blessedly free. But if he disagrees or has no desire to take up the "White Man's Burden," he is being used. For all his ideals and those of the Peace Corps, he is freely participating in the game of international power politics. He might refuse to support a certain war or another policy elsewhere, but he is helping to make strong the bases upon which such policies are founded. He is open to charges of hypocrisy, and he will have a hard time acquitting himself of them.
Charles Goldberg
* * * * *
A response printed in December 1967 (Yobosayo Vol. 2 No. 4), was written by Peter Lomhoff:
Peace Corps Unburdened
"While the country sickens for lack of moral leadership, a most remarkable younger generation has taken up the standard of American idealism.... Students who wrestle with their consciences about the draft, soldiers who wrestle with their consciences about the war, Peace Corps Volunteers who strive to light the spark of human dignity among the poor of India or Brazil, and VISTA volunteers who try to do the same for our own poor in Harlem or Appalachia are striving to keep alive the traditional values of American democracy.
"They are not really radical, these young idealists, no more radical, that is, than Jefferson's idea of freedom, Lincoln's idea of equality, or Wilson's idea of a peaceful community of nations....
"The spirit of this regenerative generation has been richly demonstrated to me in letters from student leaders, from former Peace Corps Volunteers and from soldiers fighting in Vietnam. ...
"If I had to bet my money on what is going to happen, I would bet on this younger generation of young men and women who reject the poverty and sham in their own country, who are telling their elders what their elders ought to have known that the price of empire is America's soul, and that the price is too high."
So spoke Senator William Fulbright in his speech in Honolulu on August 8 of this year. The senator's remarks suggest a partial resolution of the dilemma posed by Charles Goldberg in the November Yobosayo.
The Peace Corps is an instrument of United States foreign policy, yes, but the Peace Corps is also in some ways an anomaly. I believe that the long term and the short term effects of the Peace Corps' activities are contrary, whereas Mr. Goldberg has considered only the short term, and thus his dilemma has become needlessly gloomy.
But to explain. Mr. Goldberg sees the Peace Corps on two levels: first, the idealistic level on which the organization sees itself, and second, the realistic, or Realpolitik, level on which the Peace Corps functions as an instrument of the United States' quest for world domination.
As Mr. Goldberg says, on the idealistic level the Peace Corps has met varying degrees of success. International understanding on a personal level and the exhibition of American goodwill have been fostered with success; economic and social development have been rather less successful (though I suspect that in consideration of the small size of the Peace Corps with respect to the world's problems of development, the Peace Corps has done rather well, as the Columbia report on Peace Corps in Peru and other data suggest). This idealistic level is, however, beside the point. As Mr. Goldberg indicates, the Peace Corps' successes in this sphere would be more than adequate justification for the effort, were it not for the other level of Peace Corps, its role as an agent of American foreign policy.
Mr. Goldberg summarizes the argument well: "The image of Peace Corps is an idealistic one, and, I think, its very function is to be idealistic. The individual Volunteer, however, should not fool himself by regarding himself, in no matter how sophisticated a way, as a seeker of international understanding. Nor should he think that he can effectively struggle against the policies with which he disagrees by being a member of the Peace Corps. Peace Corps is not something unto itself. In fact, it puts the finishing touches to those self-same policies. The Volunteer in the field can learn a great deal, and so can those around him. He might also be able to be of some assistance. These are both practical ideals. But he can't do very much to change his own country....
"... if he disagrees or has no desire to take up the White Man's Burden, he is being used. For all his ideals and those of the Peace Corps, he is freely participating in the game of international power politics. He might refuse to support a certain war or another policy elsewhere, but he is helping to make strong the bases upon which such policies are founded. He is open to charges of hypocrisy, and he will have a hard time acquitting himself of them."
The argument is fine as far as it goes; the dilemma is one which many of us have worried about considerably. The only trouble is that the argument does not go far enough. It considers only the short run. Certainly, during his two years abroad, the Volunteer is supposed to be helping to promote peace by making friends for America and the American Way, and thus friends for the U.S. State Department. But in the long run, I think, the Volunteer by means of his Peace Corps service is helping, as Senator Fulbright has said, to promote values which are contrary to "an imperial destiny for America," and thus contrary to the current foreign policy of the United States.
I think, then, that the Peace Corps as an agency of the United States government is an anomaly. The fact that the Peace Corps, a fundamentally idealistic institution, exists now within the framework of the U.S. government is due not to the present United States foreign policy but rather to the inertia of institutions. The Peace Corps came into being by a fortunate historical accident, the accident of executive power for a short time being in the hands of men with some idealistic propensities, John Kennedy and his advisers. I think the present policy makers continue to support the Peace Corps primarily because of President Johnson's motto, consensus. If it's popular it is not to be questioned, and Peace Corps has achieved nearly the consensus of mothers and cherry pie. Also the administration and the majority of Congress are aware of the short run confluence of Peace Corps work and present policy but are at best (worst?) only distantly aware of their long run antipathy.
There is another, contrasting interpretation of the antipathetic relationship of present United States foreign policy and the long run effects of Peace Corps, as stated by Senator Fulbright: Peace Corps is in the mainstream of the great American traditions of Jefferson, Lincoln, and Wilson, and the present American foreign policy is the anomaly.
In either case, I contend that Peace Corps in the long run militates against an imperial destiny for America, and it is time to explain these long run implications of the Peace Corps.
Basically, the long run effect of the Peace Corps is to develop broad minded and humanitarian attitudes among people who come into contact with the organization, both the Americans and their hosts, and then, by developing special qualifications in these people, enabling them to achieve positions of influence.
Volunteers often join the Peace Corps for idealistic reasons and, although the two years abroad often develops in a Volunteer a strain of cynicism and disillusionment, it is also true that during the two years many Volunteers change their career plans so as to continue the type of work they have been doing in the Peace Corps, such as teaching or community development. Volunteers also learn in a very vivid way how parochial is the point of view of most Americans, and how very strange or irrelevant American values and commonplaces can seem from a non-American point of view. That Volunteers tend to become more broad-minded and humanitarian as a result of their experience is attested by the frustration they feel at the indifference of their friends when they return home.
It is generally accepted as obvious that Peace Corps Volunteers are to some extent enlightened and "improved" as a result of their experiences, which is really saying no more than that learning is good.
Barring exceptional cases in which Peace Corps suffers an occasional fiasco, there is a similar effect on people the Volunteer contacts abroad. Working with and knowing an idealistic foreigner, even if he is one of the ubiquitous Americans, is presumably a broadening experience, and where Peace Corps succeeds in its avowed goal of changing traditional attitudes, the result may be the release of powerful social forces moving in directions quite contrary to the current trends of the United States government.
The classic example is the Dominican Republic, whose citizens in 1965 continued to aid and cooperate with Peace Corps Volunteers at the same time they were undergoing an invasion of U.S. Marines. PCV's and Dominicans were working together to improve public health while the Marines were shelling the capital.
In the Dominican Republic and in many similar cases in which the contrast of the constructive and the destructive is not so dramatic, people from two different cultures work together to do something both idealistic and constructive. The experience frequently leaves a strong impression on everyone involved and often leaves them less disposed to accept fatally whatever God and the government bring than they were before. They have first developed a concern for existing conditions and then seen beneficial change caused by conscious action. It is a vivid experience, and often leaves one with a mind to consciously cause some beneficial change again sometime, next time perhaps on a bigger scale.
Experience with the Peace Corps, then, changes people. It develops and reinforces ideas and attitudes which are contrary to the American quest for power.
At the same time Peace Corps experience confers peculiar qualifications which give Volunteers and their host country associates a competitive advantage over otherwise equally qualified people. For example, a person with skill in a second language or with knowledge of a foreign culture can often rise in a bureaucracy faster than someone without such special knowledge. It is true that returned Peace Corps Volunteers with an average age of 25 do not readily secure policy making positions in the State Department, but it is also true that the post-World War II American Military government of Korea was called the translators' government for a very good reason.
Returned Volunteers and their host country counterparts have not only the competitive advantages of special knowledge. They also have the advantages of whatever extra drive or determination may develop from the loss of the feeling of smug complacency which afflicts many American leaders and probably also many leaders in other countries who may not be aware of the social and political ramifications of rising expectations among their people.
These advantages will often lead not to high level government jobs but perhaps to positions in private organizations and in education. In any case, Peace Corps people are somewhat unusual, and their unusual qualities will, I think, frequently lead them to positions of influence which can indirectly and occasionally directly affect government policy.
Mr. Goldberg's dilemma is real; how can we rationalize opposition to American foreign policy and still be members of an agency of the Department of State? A partial answer may be that although we are doing Uncle Sam's bidding now, we and the people around us are growing and changing in ways which, in the long run, are likely to put us in positions to encourage and effect policies quite different from the present policies of the United States government.
Peter Lomhoff
* * * * *
A response printed in February 1968 (Yobosayo Vol. 2 No. 5), was written by Bruce G. Cummings, who a friend confirmed years ago is indeed the well-known historian of Korea.
Peace Corps Reburdened
I would like to intrude on the dialogue which Messrs. Goldberg and Lomhoff have begun, if such license may be granted to a relative neophyte in the Peace Corps game. Like our steadfast President, I choose to take a middle position not because Goldberg and Lomhoff represent extremes, but because certainty in American affairs went out with Calvin Coolidge. The issues they discuss are as yet unanswerable, in any final way.
A few points I would like to make, among others, are the following: that Peace Corps was not a "fortunate historical accident," but instead represents an American tradition in American foreign policy; that United States foreign policy is not simply a "quest for world domination;" that Peace Corps is not likely to fulfill the long run expectations which Mr. Lomhoff holds for it, because it "is not something unto itself," in Mr. Goldberg's words, and others have their own uses for it; and very simply that Peace Corps Volunteers may not be the same people when they have a stake in the system.
Mr. Lomhoff attributes the emergence of the Peace Corps to "a fortunate historical accident, the accident of executive power for a short time being in the hands of men with some idealistic propensities, John Kennedy and his advisers." On the contrary, I would say the Peace Corps was by no means a fluke of the Kennedy years, but a direct product of the liberal tradition in American foreign policy which exercises, in varying degrees, a hold over every American. Moreover, the Kennedy administration itself, looked at in the light of subsequent events, was not by any means wholly removed from the policies of the current administration, which Goldberg and Lomhoff deplore.
No matter what administration happens to be in power, there is always a vocal minority, and sometimes a majority, who advocate a kinder position toward the rest of the world, one not tainted by the exigencies of power politics. Sentiment for a Peace Corps type organization has been felt since the United States took an active role in world politics. Harry Truman's Point Four program grew out of such thinking. Were it not for the inclinations of Eisenhower and Dulles, such an organization could have emerged in the 1950s, for it had support at lower levels. For the fact is that the United States has always conceived of itself as somehow "different" from other great powers, and therefore called upon to take up more noble, humanitarian ventures. This utopian spirit has been enshrined in the twentieth century vocabulary as "Wilsonianism," but it was with us, in a less articulate form, long before Wilson.
The tenets of the liberal faith are easily stated. We distrust power politics. We distrust self-seeking. We don't understand the concept of "national interest," except where our own is concerned. In essence, we don't like the give and take of big power politics. We don't like wars, and once we get into them we like to get them over with as soon as possible, with little thought to the eventual political consequences of our military action – World War II is the classic manifestation of this. We envision the United States to be concerned with "principles" in foreign affairs, with no despicable objectives of material gain.
If the United States has not always been "liberal" in its actions abroad – and certainly it hasn't – still it has consistently articulated liberal goals as the end product of its actions. Americans ask normative questions about their foreign policy: how should it be conducted? What should our goals be? With such thinking being a part of the American scene for years, it is not surprising that the Peace Corps emerged especially after fifteen years of direct American involvement in world power politics.
With a lessening in cold war tensions, American blinders have been at least partially pulled back, and it is now a commonplace recognition that people with very high ideals can on occasion do very awful things. But more important, in recent years the liberal notion that military affairs can and should be separated from political affairs – that battles can be fought and won with little thought to the political – has been seriously modified. We have come to realize the importance of winning the political battles, too, and by now such thinking is enshrined in cliches about the "battle for the hearts and minds of the people." John Kennedy's notion of "flexible response" in U.S. defense posture, the Special Forces (trained in public health, political agitation, etc.) and, some cynics say, the Peace Corps, were outgrowths of the new emphasis on the "total" picture of conflict. The point was not to win battles only to lose the political spoils; the emphasis was world-wide.
In another light, the Peace Corps was only one aspect of the Kennedy administration, which included on other fronts the Bay of Pigs, increased involvement in Vietnam, continued C.I.A. manipulation of front groups (and governments?), and the dispatch of advisers and special forces to untold number of countries, among the other, more memorable marks of that administration. The point to remember is not that JFK was so different, but that Peace Corps is firmly in the liberal tradition of American foreign policy, which will periodically be heard as its advocates gain office, and as articulate men seize on its tenets to justify their actions. The reason that Peace Corps ideals seem so estranged from current policies may be found more in Johnson's inability to articulate his policies than in real divergence from the policies themselves.
At this point I would like to register a disagreement with both Mr. Goldberg and Mr. Lomhoff: both of them seem to take the "U.S. quest for world domination" as given, choosing instead to differ over the contribution made by the Peace Corps to this quest. It is an over simplification to speak of American foreign policy solely in these terms. For a great power, the United States has been surprisingly humanitarian and generous on the world scene since World War II; at the same time, in other ways, it has been surprisingly cynical and underhanded in pursuit of goals of dubious worth. But it is mythical to think of our foreign policy as either "a quest for world domination," or wholly removed from that goal and solely humanitarian. U.S. policy is a much more complex admixture of political, economic, and humanitarian goals, with a lingering myopia where communism is concerned. The U.S. has shown an interest in domination on occasion, whereas at other times it has foregone domination, to the detriment of its own interests. U.S. policy simply cannot be reduced to an easy, catch phrase. Arthur Schlesinger has often spoken of our foreign policy in terms of its accidental nature, the manner in which men and policies are shaped by events, and the endless capacity for simple human error in the process. Thus he dares to ascribe the blame for our huge involvement in Vietnam to "the politics of inadvertence." (The Bitter Heritage, 1967)
The American record has thus been uneven and spotty. We have prepared nations for self-government – to a much greater extent than did the French, for instance. And we have squelched national development in the bud. What seems to be "imperialism" is often caused by a very casual and unthinking acceptance of the notion that all nations desire to "modernize" on the Western model, and that Americans are the proper midwives for this process. At any rate, while the United States may possess "imperial dimensions," in Reinhold Neihbur's terms, it is not imperialistic.
Mr. Goldberg said that "Peace Corps is not something unto itself," and therein lies the central challenge facing the Peace Corps. To put it bluntly, while the Peace Corps itself encompasses people with goals and ideals that conflict with American policy, the goals held for the Peace Corps by those external to it – the uses to which others would put it – may, in the long run, be what posterity remembers of the Peace Corps. I would like, then, to relate a personal experience in which I felt decidedly "used," then go on to some general points on this subject, and finally treat Mr. Lomhoff's argument that Peace Corps will in the long run force change upon the American policy machine. It is difficult to discern exactly what other organs of the U.S. government think about the Peace Corps. Peace Corps has a good press and represents ideals that are hard to ignore. Thus one usually finds non-Peace Corps officials readily concurring in Peace Corps goals, if in an abstract way. But they often misunderstand its goals, thereby providing a key to the uses they actually have for Peace Corps. This phenomenon was entirely obvious at the show which "the American presence" put on for Korea III during our October orientation. With the sole exception of a political officer from the Embassy, they misjudged their audience, mentioned goals for Peace Corps Korea which they themselves dreamed up, and presented talks distinguished solely by their irrelevancy.
A man from USOM thought it nice that we were in Korea since "developing nations need a common world language." The man from USIS said he was glad to have us here "contributing to American foreign policy," and went on to give an anti-communist diatribe which, in any other situation, would have been "high camp." A third man presented a personal vignette, detailing the impossibility of Americans living with Koreans ("Koreans think it's strange if you try"). The military man gave us a full run down on battle plans should there be an attack – and allowed that "the Peace Corps serves a purpose" but his voice trailed off as he sought in vain to define that purpose.
It's easy to shrug off such displays as either "typical." or, on the other hand, unrepresentative. But the fact remains that none of the men had a notion of why Peace Corps had come, beyond its service to their own agency, or as a means to "round out the diplomatic mission," in Mr. Goldberg's terms. Moreover, it must be remembered that Peace Corps occupies a decidedly subordinate and dispensable position in the U.S. government hierarchy in comparison to USIS, USOM, or the Armed Forces.
Mr. Goldberg and Mr. Lomhoff, along with many others, share a belief that the Peace Corps should not be a tool to fight communism, and President Kennedy seemed to concur when he said we would help "the people in the huts and villages of the world...not because the communists are doing it…but because it is right." Yet much of the debate in Congress concerning the Peace Corps seemed to imply that such a goal is central. The May, 1966 issue of The Annals, devoted to Peace Corps, agrees that "Congress visualizes it as a weapon of American foreign policy against communism." They quote Hubert Humphrey as saying "This program is to be part of the total foreign policy of the U.S. to combat the virus of communist totalitarianism." Again, the goals of the Peace Corps notwithstanding, they would use it for their own purposes.
One goal that is freely concurred in by all is to put to lie the notion that all Americans are like... well, those who have gone before Peace Corps. As a refurbishment of the American image, Peace Corps has been very successful, as Mr. Goldberg made clear. But in doing so it makes the work of other, perhaps less "sensitive" Americans much easier. Bernard Fall has said in reference to Vietnam that the U.S. is "sleeping in the French bed, but dreaming different dreams." We're abed with "the American presence," albeit with different dreams. That Peace Corps dreams can be fulfilled, in the short run or the long run, is by no means a foregone conclusion.
Mr. Lomhoff's central point was that Peace Corps would, in the long run, work a change in American foreign policy and American attitudes. As a proposition, its proof must wait for "the long run" to run its course. But I simply can't be as optimistic as Mr. Lomhoff. As I have attempted to show, Peace Corps has been around before, in thought if not in practice. Similar causes, more costly and prestigious, and equally representative of American liberalism in foreign affairs (the League of Nations, the Atlantic Charter, the United Nations) have not significantly lessened the hold of realpolitik on the U.S. machine. Considerations of power will continue to be the most important short term and long term determinant of U.S. policy.
Mr. Lomhoff feels that "the long run effect of the Peace Corps is to develop broad minded and humanitarian attitudes" among Peace Corps Volunteers and Americans in general. There is no doubt that Peace Corps Volunteers return home with a different perspective. But those who really need the treatment aren't getting it. Only a tiny fraction of Americans would ever think of joining the Peace Corps – indeed, among our generation, which Mr. Lomhoff is depending upon, a small percentage are actively interested in Peace Corps or related activities. Moreover, Peace Corps serves a public (and a Congress) which does not share its ideals in any but a whimsical way. All of this says nothing about the Peace Corps itself, and its intrinsic value. What I am saying is that Peace Corps is not new, it is not unique in American history, and its opponents are solidly entrenched.
There can be no satisfactory conclusion to this discussion. The issues are still in flux. But certainly Mr. Lomhoff has hit on the central challenge facing Volunteers when he predicts that "in the long run we are likely to be in positions to encourage and effect policies quite different from the present policies of the U.S." This is by no means a self-evident truth. Earlier idealists have been engaged in good works before they really had a stake in the system. Volunteers have no stake – they are two-year sojourners, with other, perhaps less noble fields beckoning after service. With careers and livelihoods at stake, will we be so quick to change the status quo? Or will we settle down in the "real" world our critics speak of?
Bruce G. Cummings
* * * * *
A follow-up to this series of articles was printed in April 1968 (Yobosayo Vol. 2 No. 7), though it was not written by a Korea PCV:
Peace Corps Reinterpreted
(The following are excerpts from a paper by Lewis Butler, a lawyer and former Peace Corps director in Malaysia.)
The original concept of the Peace Corps was to provide Volunteer manpower to countries that needed and requested it and to create mutual understanding in the process. The selection and training processes were designed to fit these aims. That design has not fundamentally changed, although the techniques have notably improved. Selection means picking, on paper, solid people with needed skills who would present a good picture of their country (the key question to references – Do you want this person representing the United States?), and judging those people in the flesh during about three months of training. Training, besides providing the selection laboratory, prepares the Volunteer to do a job and live successfully in a foreign culture. From the beginning the basic components of training – language, technical preparation, cross cultural studies – have been designed for these ends and remained the same, although with different approaches and emphasis from time to time.
Meanwhile, the Peace Corps has changed. Or rather, it never was the animal described in the Peace Corps Act. Yes, it provides good people inexpensively for important jobs, whether teaching or health work or agriculture or bridge and school building. This is a substantial contribution but not a unique one, and often not a lasting one. Nor does the "job" concept encompass all of the Peace Corps programs. Many, such as community development, do not fit in a "job" category. As for mutual understanding, the term in part connotes changing the American image abroad. From the beginning this struck most Volunteers as phony. It also suggests Volunteers returning to the United States and bringing first-hand information to their friends and communities about the countries they served in. This they do, but the effect seems limited and is often complicated by the inability and sometimes unwillingness of Volunteers to explain their experiences to those who “don't” understand.
What, then, has made the Peace Corps important? Is it as significant as we who are wedded to it believe? I suggest two not particularly profound answers to those questions.
Changing People
First, the Peace Corps experience, at its best, changes people. It changes Volunteers and the people they work with. It changes their attitudes and values. It reaches people emotionally and fundamentally rather than intellectually. It can motivate them, turn them on, or, to use an old word, inspire them.
No written description is needed or adequate to describe these changes to anyone reading this report. Sometimes, they are slight. Certainly many Volunteers are no more touched than they would be by a year at Stanford at Florence, and for them the words of the Peace Corps Act about mutual understanding are perhaps appropriate, as is the very academic concept of "adjusting" to another culture. But our very familiarity with what happens to so many dulls our appreciation. We forget how rare it is for people to become so entwined with those from another culture as to have it affect their basic view of life. We forget how vital such experience has become with the growing crisis and despair in human relations both in the United States and in other nations.
The changes in Volunteers we can observe. The changes in Nepalis or Malaysians or Nigerians we find much harder to identify. But we know that some acquire from Volunteers attitudes that are hard to come by in their own culture – hope, belief in their own abilities and worth as an individual, an honest view of their failings, a sense of service. While we understand little about what is needed for a country or community to influence its own destiny, we have seen that this kind of change is the first essential. And we know that Peace Corps Volunteers are among the few strangers in a foreign culture who can assist in such change.
In short, Peace Corps is in the business of building new people.
A New Institution
Second, and really as a by-product of the change in Volunteers and staff, the Peace Corps at its best is building a new kind of American institution in an era when the old ones are in deep trouble. The labels we use, such as "open society" and "university in dispersion" sometimes dull the substance. What we are getting at is that most of our universities, corporations, governmental agencies, unions, churches, and other institutions do not fit the human beings in them or the needs of the country. In all there is pressure for change, even revolution. The turmoil in universities requires no description. Corporations are moving toward less formal management communications, sensitivity training for competing vice presidents and appeals to the college prospect about business' contribution to society. Other institutions are in varying stages of upset and reform.
Peace Corps is an imperfect model of what institutions such as these must begin to look like and a training ground for those who would change them. It is proving, however inadequately, that the capacity for self-renewal can be built into even as unlikely an organization as a governmental agency. It is showing a doubting college generation that organization is not necessarily equivalent to stagnation.
The tools are well known to name a few: hospitality to dissent, individual responsibility, competition of ideas more than of people, trust, humor, the substitution of leadership for authority. Despite setbacks these tools have been used by Peace Corps with remarkable effect. It is still a place for people.
If these accomplishments are what has made the Peace Corps unique, then it must focus on them and judge its performance accordingly. It must consciously prepare Volunteers for this kind of Peace Corps.
The Functioning of Training
Focusing on these aspects of Peace Corps, maybe we should start by getting a new name for training. More than just a training session, it is the introductory period in which prospective Volunteers meet all the forces that make up Peace Corps and begin the process of change. The returned Volunteers are there and, for better or worse, they more than anything else represent the end Peace Corps product. Host Country Nationals are there, overseas and Washington staff members are there.
...We cannot ask for better Volunteers. Peace Corps has succeeded because people of average talent but above average desire want to do something worthwhile. We must make such Volunteers.
...The goal is not debate or conflict, though these may be necessary. It is to have the trainees understand from the day they enter training that they can and must take part in shaping the Peace Corps. An ex Volunteer said it simply:
"By participating here, the Volunteers realize how they can participate overseas. We came back to convince them of that."
* * * * *
So ends this series of ruminations on the Peace Corps' place in the world. On the same page as the above final article is one by Bob Baskerville that begins with his experience of buying a pirated edition of The Conquest of Happiness by Bertrand Russell; the third paragraph below has some pertinence to the discussion above.
In the Peace Market
In the Peace Market the other day, a relevant book title caught my eye: What Makes People Happy. I bought the book without haggling and carried it home to learn the secret. But when I had opened the wrapper, I realized I had been overly optimistic. The title actually read What Makes People Un-happy.
Like many other people, I suppose, I joined the Peace Corps because I thought it would make me happy to do so. Of course I didn't write that on my application form. I was afraid that those who make the decisions would think I lacked the necessary spirit of altruism and reject me. So I wrote that I wanted to make other people happy. That must have been the correct answer, because I got accepted.
[...]
Most of us came here to see what we could see, to sniff around, and to learn. It's a good idea to be honest about this. (If someone told me that he had come to my country to change my educational system and to eradicate the bad impression left by his fellow countrymen on me, I think I would watch him closely.)
Fortunately, the Koreans want us to be happy in their country, some of them are even anxious about it, and they seem to relax when we explain the advantages we derive by being here. (Have you ever noticed that people are more receptive to you if you explain that you came here to study Korean and to teach English than if you say you're here with some kind of peace-service cadre?)
Suppose there was a group of twenty-three year olds, away from home and experiencing all kinds of things for the first time, trying out their personalities and hair styles on a people patient enough to put up with them. An attitude of altruism might seem incongruous for them to adopt. And if they felt they should be out doing good things all the time, they might be disappointed by the puzzled amusement which greeted their efforts. But then there are always people who want to accomplish something...
Bob Baskerville
Cumings made the point that there were lots of different groups within the US government who had differing uses for the Peace Corps, and helping to create a good impression of America is certainly one of them, but the idea of telling someone you were there to "eradicate the bad impression left by [my] fellow countrymen on [you]" made me laugh at its clarity and bluntness.
