Rebels of Mindanao by Tom Anthony Page B

in from his left side and read over his shoulder:
    Yet as these images vividly show, a specter beyond terrorism seems to hover over Basilan. This ghost is the American military experience in South Vietnam, where, beginning in 1961, U.S. advisors arrived for an open-ended stay in Southeast Asia. Fourteen years and 58,000 casualties later, American forces finally left South Vietnam, abandoning a mission that most Americans had concluded was misguided and not winnable
.
    Hargens passed it on to Ambassador Richardson sitting next to him to read.
    â€œAre you sure you can stay the course with us for as long as it takes?” Liu, for personal as well as professional reasons, wanted to know the answer to his question.
    Martin Galan, not just a congressman, but also the National Security Advisor to the President of the Philippines, felt it was time to get a little bit serious. “The Philippine Army has some problems, Ambassador, General. We could use some help.”
    Thornton responded, “Congressman, your country is secure from foreign intervention up here in Manila, if it does not implode from internal corruption, but you would lose the southern third of your country, a major source of your food and foreign exchange, if you lost Mindanao.”
    The Ambassador thought it was time to cool things down. “Mr. Mundy, here, was assigned to the Philippines by State as an observer, so let’s get him out into the field to observe. I need to know what is really going on in Mindanao.”
    â€œIt may be a paradox.” Liu was now baiting all three of the Americans. “If you Yankees were not fighting your personal global war, the insurgents here would have no one to fight against; but if we Filipinos don’t have your help, we can’t defeat them.”
    â€œA lot of people agree with you, Reggie.” Thornton had thought a lot about the problem, and it bothered him. He lived in Mindanao. “Luke, why doesn’t Defense get tough? The Abu Sayaf admits officially that it is involved with the Moro National Liberation Front, and both are definitely linked with Al Qaeda.”
    â€œDo we Americans have to sort it all out for our allies?” Hargens stirred the pot.
    Ambassador Richardson could not restrain himself any longer and gave the State Department position. “We’re
not
involved in politics in the Philippines, not in protocol or in substance; we have left all the negotiations between the Philippine government and the Moros to be mediated by Malaysia. We stay out of local politics.”
    Liu was not convinced, “You
are
involved if the Moros
think
you are involved. You guys keep talking way too loud about the Moros hooking up with international terrorist groups. Best to leave them alone and to talk in a civilized way, with some cultural sensitivity.”
    The
Times
article had made Thornton think, and he gazed for several slow minutes into the near distance at a dark wood-paneled wall holding framed photographs of MacArthur returning, of a former president of the Philippines, of a Filipina female spy executed by the Japanese, her name forgotten to the world but remaining a legend to those in the business, and of other forgotten famous people coming gradually into focus while his memory connected disjointed events. He did not talk for a while as he quietly watched the Navy team pile up touchdowns against his alma mater.
    Ambassador Richardson leaned into a new discussion with Hargens, somewhat uncomfortably, knowing that he would have to walk a tight diplomatic line within his portfolio for their ultimate boss, the President. The ambassador had been briefed only about STAGCOM’s official role in Mindanao and Thornton’s deal with Hargens to locate the Turk, and was curious about the consultant who seemed to know everyone around the table. “I’m very interested in your opinion, your personal view of the present situation in Mindanao, Thomas.” The ambassador