The U.S. Turns to the Prince

In Washington, State Department officials alluded to "diplomatic irons in the fire" and to "extremely delicate" negotiations in process involving several governments. In his San Clemente retreat, President Richard Nixon huddled with Peking's top envoy to the U.S., Huang Chen, whom he had transported across the continent in a presidential jet just for the meeting. In Paris, American negotiators conferred with Hanoi's representatives. Prime object of all these efforts was Cambodia -the only warring Indochinese nation that has not reached a cease-fire agreement.

It is one of the innumerable ironies of the Indochina war that Cambodia, which was an oasis of peace when the rest of Southeast Asia burned, now is engulfed in war just when the rest of the area seems on the brink of respite. Combat rages around Phnom-Penh. American warplanes fly round-the-clock sorties to prevent the capital from falling to the Khmer insurgents. Refugees flee their villages to escape the fighting.

Adamant Congress. It is not the fighting, however, that created the Nixon Administration's urgency in seeking a Cambodian peace. Rather, an adamant Congress forced the President to promise an Aug. 15 deadline for the cessation of all U.S. military activity in Indochina -including air warfare in Cambodia -unless specifically authorized by legislation. After that date, the White House will no longer be able to use the force of U.S. bombing as a lever to negotiate a Cambodian settlement.

Yet apparently neither the U.S. nor any government official in Phnom-Penh knows exactly who speaks for the elusive insurgents and their several factions (TIME, May 28). It is not even certain that the insurgents are interested in stopping the war. They already control more than half of Cambodia, and it is generally conceded that they can capture the capital anytime they are willing to commit enough troops. Yet with so much territory under their dominion, the insurgents may welcome a ceasefire to give them time to solidify their control and to regroup their forces. The North Vietnamese probably would go along with a cease-fire now, since it would guarantee Hanoi's supply routes through rebel-controlled eastern Cambodia to its troops inside South Viet Nam.

The key to the Cambodia puzzle may be Exiled Ruler Prince Norodom Sihanouk, 50, who has resided in Peking since his overthrow in March 1970. When he ruled Cambodia, he skillfully played contending foreign powers against each other, managing to be both anti-Communist and anti-American. Peking and Hanoi now recognize his claim to be political leader of the insurgents, because he was usually willing to relax his anti-Communism when it suited his needs. In an interview last week, Sihanouk detailed for the first time what U.S. intelligence sources had long known: he had allowed Hanoi to use Cambodian ports and roads to supply Communist forces in South Viet Nam. He explained that his action was based more on income than ideology: "Two-thirds [of the equipment] was for the Viet Cong and one-third for my army. That way I didn't have to provide in my budget for military equipment, arms and ammunition."

During his exile, the U.S. had haughtily dismissed Sihanouk's claim to any following inside Cambodia. Last week, however, Washington did an abrupt about-face. Finally acknowledging that no Cambodian settlement can afford to ignore the prince, Washington would like him to meet with Henry Kissinger next month in Peking. But Sihanouk's notorious ego apparently is still smarting from Kissinger's refusal to see him last February when the prince requested an audience. Said Sihanouk in Peking last week: "It is useless to talk to Kissinger. There is no time for talk. Now it is too late. We will continue our armed struggle." Such strong sentiments may be no more than a tactical bluff, designed to bolster his bargaining position with the U.S.

Changing Mood. Sihanouk is a grand master of the diplomatic chessboard whose moves in the past had preserved his country's independence far longer than many observers thought possible. Most likely, the prince is now maneuvering to try to win guarantees for a neutral Cambodia in which he will play a major political role.

By week's end there were indications that pressures by the major powers were having some effect in moving Cambodia toward a ceasefire. Marshal Lon Nol, leader of the Phnom-Penh government, announced his readiness to meet with the insurgents. Sihanouk, meanwhile, revealed that Chou En-lai had advised him that the Paris agreements prohibit China from giving the insurgents any more military aid. This may push the prince closer to the conference table, or at least cause him to change his mind about meeting with Kissinger. His moods are as changeable as monsoon weather, and it is on his mood that a chance for an end to the Cambodian war could now hinge.

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