with the AIDS virus, while 43 percent said that they shouldnnot. And on the question of responsibility, the public view isnthat 45 percent agreed that most people with AIDS havenonly themselves to blame, while only 13 percent disagreed.nAnd on the crucial statement “I sometimes think that AIDSnis a punishment for the decline in moral standards,” 42npercent agreed with this proposition, while 43 percentndisagreed, saying they did not hold that view.nAt the other end of the political spectrum are thenpowerful forces mobilized in select urban centers by thenhomosexual community, for whom everything from closingnbathhouses to testing and identifying AIDS victims isnanathema. Although estimates indicate that in a city like SannFrancisco there are perhaps 75,000 homosexual men, or 10npercent of the city’s population, and although half of themnmay be infected with AIDS, the threat has not beenntranslated into specific policy recommendations. Localnordinances prevent San Franciscans with AIDS from beingnfired from their jobs. Nor can they be denied housing ornevicted because of AIDS diagnosis. Insurance companiesnare not allowed access to results of the AIDS antibody testnin assessing insurance premiums. In a city like San Francisco,nit is taboo to criticize homosexuality however obliquely,nwithout being condemned as a bigot. Few politicians darennot support “gay pride,” much less advocate sexual abstinence.nHence, while a consensus does not exist at anmacro-political level, micro-political considerations furtherninhibit even timid articulation of policy.nThis public opinion division thereby moves the issue ofnAIDS to a moral center of gravity. But ethical parametersnare hardly self-evident. The utilitarian argument that selfinterestnis all-determining comes hard upon those whonargue that social interest must prevail. Further, self-interestnChina SyndromenWhen the last helicopters lifted offnfrom the roof of the American Embassynin Saigon, with human leechesnsticking to their sides and fallingnfrom their runners, the TV imagenof our defeat became indelible innour national memory. “No morenVietnams,” we said, liberal, conservative,nor in-between, forgettingnhow we got there.nOf course, it all started withnChina: In 1945 Chiang Kai-sheknwas telling George Marshall thatn”the Communists had no intentionnof cooperating with the Nationals,nthat they were under the influencenof the Soviet government, and thatntheir purpose was to disrupt thengovernment and influence foreignnpolicy.” In answer, Marshall proceedednto tell the mistaken ChinesenREVISIONSnGeneralissimo that his governmentncould no longer count on U.S.nhelp, not even for small-arms ammunition.nAs Marshall’s official biographer,nForrest C. Pogue, writesnin the third tome of George C.nMarshall (New York: Viking;n$29.95), the great American statesmannconcluded, after meeting Stalinnat Teheran and Yalta, that “thenRussian leader would keep his wordnif he had positively and unequivocallyngiven it.”nTreating Chou En-lai with greaternrespect than Chiang Kai-shek,nwhom General Joseph T. Stilwelln(another “China Hand”) called then”Peanut,” Marshall did his best tonearn what Henry Kissinger laternreceived a Nobel Peace prize for.nConscious of America’s demobilizationnand “public opinion,” Marshall,n”the tall man, with a weath­ncan be defined in terms of serving others as well as self.nEthical slogans about the “greatest good for the greatestnnumber” may rend the fabric of a system predicated on “nonexploitation of a disadvantaged minority for the benefit of annadvantaged majority.” The right to know comes hard uponnthe right to privacy. Compassion comes upon retribution innarguments concerning capital punishment. The right to lifencomes upon the private right to determine capabilities ofnsupport.nIt is far simpler to discuss ethical concerns in terms ofngood versus evil, truth versus error, or truthfulness versusnlying. But these are less ethical dilemmas than moralnimperatives, derived from the Western religious culture.nAnd it is precisely the invocation of that culture which isnused by those who argue against an AIDS policy per se. In anworld of ethics, the choice lies between principles that cannclaim a wide number of adherents, in a world of alternativengoods. In this sense, achieving a balance between pressuresnfor reform (policies), and compliance with long-standingnstandards (ethics) is dramatically highlighted by the AIDSnepidemic.nOne illustration may suffice: A majority of the populationnfavors the quarantine of AIDS victims. While this samenpublic does not accept the quarantining of people becausenof their sexual preferences, they do hold that the risks to thenuncontaminated public warrant such severe measures. Butnof course to adopt such a policy is to deny basic civil libertiesnand personal rights to a special segment of the Americannpopulation. It raises also the specter of extending similarnmeasures to other sectors of the population. There is a longngap between an individual with AIDS and a cluster ofnAIDS victims presenting a community threat. Hence, wensee the stark contradictions between public policy andnnnered homely face, in which therenwas a visible touch of greatness”n{Time), together with Harry Truman,nsold the Allied NationalistnGovernment of China down thenriver. As Pogue writes, “The greatnobstacle to peace has been the mutualnsuspicion between the NationalnGovernment and the Communists.”nFor his part, Chiang Kaisheknbattled his way to Formosa tonset up a viable. Western-type government,nafter having been treatedn”evenhandedly” by the West in hisnstruggle against lethal insurgents.nA few years after the sellout, ansurprised Truman and a not-sosurprisednMarshall (he revised hisnopinion of Stalin in 1947) werencaught spread-eagled in Korea, withnall the ensuing consequences.nMARCH 1988 / 23n