The Presidency: Protecting the Flank

• Share

(9 of 10)

to Thailand's royal couple. Bhumibol broke tradition by delivering a long political toast to the President, warning against any compromise in Viet Nam that might compromise his kingdom's independence and security. "To us, peace can have only one meaning," he said. "It must be peace with honor and freedom." Replied Johnson: "America keeps its commitments." Sirikit, seated next to Bhumibol in front of a motherof-pearl throne with a nine-tiered canopy (symbolizing her husband's place as the ninth King in the Chakri line), glowed in a champagne-colored gown, despite a lingering cold and a heavy dose of antibiotics. After an all-French dinner, from consomme to patisserie, the Royal Navy Orchestra played Bach,

Brahms, Bizet and Bhumibol—two compositions by the Massachusetts-born King entitled Falling Rain and Magic Beams.

Though Johnson had been briefed on the myriad restrictions surrounding the King, he kept forgetting himself. Several times he strode ahead of Bhumibol while courtiers paled and sucked in their breath. At Chulalongkorn University, where Johnson, wearing a translucent academic gown trimmed with orange and yellow, received a silver-framed honorary Doctor of Political Science degree, the President crossed his legs with one foot pointed at the King; Thai officials felt faint, for the foot is considered the lowliest part of the body.

His Kind of Place. Nonetheless, a figure of Johnson's rank is forgiven such lapses, and he was, after all, pratanatipodi, the President (literally, "chairman of the greatest"). He was treated accordingly. At his quarters, overlooking the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, servants brought the President his meals on their knees, performed wais (a bow with the hands pressed together) before him. Cracked a U.S. aide: "This is Johnson's kind of place."

When the President's turn came to play host to the King, he summoned Jazz Saxophonist Stan Getz from the U.S. to the affair, held in a borrowed royal banquet hall, as a special gesture of appreciation for the elaborate, if subdued welcome that he had received. Though Bhumibol has played his saxophone and clarinet in swinging sessions with other U.S. jazz groups, on this occasion he sat back and enjoyed the show.

In Kuala Lumpur, the reception was likely to be notably less restrained. On the eve of Johnson's arrival, a handful of University of Malaya students demonstrated against the Viet Nam war despite the government's attempts to avert such protests by arresting some 60 left-wing opposition leaders. Still, with two dozen welcoming committees at work on his 24-hour visit, it was likely to be a memorable one. No demonstrations were expected in Seoul, however, and Park anticipated crowds of 2,000,000 to greet the President—double the number that happily mobbed Dwight Eisenhower in 1960.

Johnson Blitz. Though surfeited with the sights and sounds of a kaleidoscopic journey that covered 31,000 miles—and, it seemed, as many handshakes—the President was ready to take off again. Having promised to stump all 50 states, Johnson plans to zip through 15 of them in four days to make good his word. He will dash from New England to the Midwest and the Northwest the first day, campaign along the West Coast the second, stop off in Utah, Nevada, New Mexico and Arizona on the