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Jonathan Mirsky
đọc
Vietnam Now
Vietnam:
Rising Dragon
by Bill
Hayton
Yale
University Press, 254 pp., $30.00
A television image of a
security man clapping his hand over the mouth of the Catholic priest
Nguyen Van
Ly
one of the drafters
of the 2006 'Manifesto for Freedom and Democracy,'
during his trial for spreading propaganda against the state,
Hue, Vietnam,
March 30,2007
Reading
Bill Hayton's
enlightening and persuasive narrative about postwar Vietnam
I wondered, as I have before in these pages, how the Vietnamese won
their long
wars against the French and the United States. After Dean
Rusk retired as secretary
of state during much of the war, his son, Richard, asked him, "Short of
blowing them off the face of the earth how could we have defeated such
a
people? Why did they keep coming? Who were these people? Why did they
try so
hard?" Rusk replied, "I really don't have much to answer on that,
Rich." (1)
Or take Bao Ninh, one of North Vietnam's
brilliant novelists about the war, and a veteran, who in his The Sorrow
of War
writes:
Victory after victory,
withdrawal after withdrawal. The path of war seemed endless, desperate
and
leading nowhere. The soldiers waited in
fear, hoping they would not be ordered in as support forces, to hurl
themselves into the arena to almost certain death. (2)
But
they did, again and
again.
According
to Bill Hayton, who
in 2006 and 2007 reported for the BBC from Vietnam
until his visa was withdrawn for reporting on dissidents, nowadays in Hanoi many
Vietnamese who fought
the war find themselves trapped in voiceless rage. They know why they
fought,
they know what they and their fellows suffered, they know how unjust it
felt -
but they’re banned from expressing any of it in public because the
Party has
decided that the country needs the
support and resources of the United States.
Mai
Elliott, the author of
RAND in Southwest Asia: A History of
the
Vietnam War Era, has written to me that "the war veterans feel that
they
have made horrendous sacrifices only to see themselves marginalized and
to see
the Party and military elite enrich themselves."
Here is
one of Hayton's most
telling points. The Vietnamese are forbidden to mention the "sheer
monstrosity of the war: the industrial-scale killing....”
But it remains alive for
Americans. "No other country name has the same resonance: 'the lesson
of Vietnam,' 'the
ghost of Vietnam,'
'another Vietnam’
we know instantly all that
these phrases imply." The "lessons of Vietnam"
in Iraq or Afghanistan
are
regularly argued. Hayton emphasizes that things are different in Vietnam
itself,
where the war is a taboo subject, although, as he recalls near the end
of his
book, the Americans did vast and brutal damage to the country and its
people.
Living in Vietnam,
he
claims (puzzlingly as one reads his book), "moved and inspired me ...
until I was told to leave." He observes that foreigners find there is
something secretive about Vietnam
"until Vietnamese friends patiently explain what, to them, is
blindingly
obvious-and things slowly fall into place." Notwithstanding the
regime's
suppression of free inquiry, it doesn't seem very secretive to the
reader
because Hayton describes the key issues and problems with considerable
clarity.
At the core, he makes plain, is the Communist Party's conviction that
come what
may it must stay in sole power. In his penetrating new book; The Party:
The
Secret World of China's Communist Rulers, (Harper, 2010) Richard
McGregor
writes, "For all the reforms of the past three decades, the Party has
made
sure it keeps a lock-hold on the state." And this is exactly the
situation
in Vietnam.
Vietnam experienced a cruel awakening after the war,
discovering
that defeating the American capitalists and their war machine did not
mean that
state socialism could then build a peacetime economy. By 1979, Hayton
explains,
it was apparent that heavy industry was eating up state funds, and
light
industry was failing; as southern peasants resisted collectivization,
agriculture stagnated. But the regime was adaptable. "In 1979, before China and the Soviet Union opened the
door to
industrial capitalism, Vietnam's
communists had already started experimenting with it." Reformers inside
the Party demanded an end to central planning and an opening to the
market,
"and a vast land reform programmed gave farmers control over their
fields."
After succinctly tracing Hanoi's
political history after 1979, Hayton settles down
to a revealing description of Vietnam
today. This includes "rocketing economic growth" that distorts the
economy toward "the wants of the few rather than the needs of the
many"; the need to create one million jobs every year; the emergence of
a
well-off urban class; the erosion of traditional rural values; the
disdain for
minority peoples; vast official corruption; an overwhelming security
system;
and above all the Party's determination to stay in power by any means,
including the carefully supervised revival of religion and folk
beliefs. Much
of this could be said of China,
but it would be a mistake to describe Vietnam as merely post Mao
China
writ small. Despite some political and economic echoes of China
in its
smaller neighbor, the two countries are fundamentally different, as the
Chinese
found out in 1979 when they unsuccessfully fought the Vietnamese.
One similarity with China
is that
many foreigners either believe or want to believe that economic reform
will
lead to more liberal, even democratic, reforms. The World Bank, Hayton
notes,
has hailed Vietnam
as a "poster boy" for "economic liberalization." There is
something in this claim for the advantages of the market, Hayton
writes. But he
adds that "Vietnam's
transition was marked by rising state involvement in the economy ....
The state
remained in control, and foreign investment was directed into joint
ventures
with state firms." becoming mini-empires." Some of these
state-controlled corporations "became outright criminals."
Hayton tells us how it works
at the very top, the fifteen- member Politburo. No one ascends to that
height,
he writes, "without building up a network of supporters"-in China
this web
of relationships is called “guanxi-"and
delivering them benefits in return." He shows how President Nguyen Minh
Triet built his fiefdom in Binh Duong province, near Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City),
by
securing foreign money that helped create hundreds of thousands of
jobs. This
involved pharao, fence bending,
"to get things done." Now his nephew runs Binh Duong, and under what
Vietnamese call his "umbrella" his family and retainer are
"protected" from the law. Such arrangements, the norm with national
leaders, extend down through provincial and yet-lower-tier officials
who have
turned capitalism into family businesses, what the Vietnamese call "son
of
father, grandson of grandfather," meaning "the young offer loyalty,
the old offer protection."
These relationships are
financially valuable, and investors-this, too, is true in China-will
pay
handsomely for introductions into such families. On a day-to-day basis
every
official transaction is likely to require some form of hidden payment.
Corruption is built into every public activity:
Kindergarten
teachers will
have to bribe the boss to get hired, the children’s parents will have
to bribe
the teacher to ensure their children get well-treated, high school
pupils will
bribe their teachers to get good marks in exams, and Ph.D. students pay
to get
their theses written for them by their examiners' colleagues .... Extra
payments are required to get good treatment in hospitals, to get
electricity
connections fixed and to get business.
*
The environment is a
deepening disaster. The rivers surrounding Ho Chi
Minh City
are "biologically dead," and the air in Hanoi
is poisonous, two more parallels with the waterways and cities of China.
Sewage
and other waste in both cities are dumped raw into the rivers and
landfills and
eventually poison the local water supplies. As in China
local people unsuccessfully
complained about such pollution for
years, but now that the urban middle classes are up
in arms about smells
and tastes, action is slowly beginning to be taken. Hayton says that a
World
Bank report has warned that pollution will frighten away tourists and
harm economic
growth. In the north of the country, Ha Long Bay, Vietnam's premier
tourist
attraction with its low mountains rising straight from the water, is
now a
biological disaster zone, its waters polluted by the effluent from
northern
Vietnam's coal industry, its fish killed by coal dust that turns the
sea black
or "by explosives, electric
shocks and poison."
Environmental laws are
flouted in favor of big business. "Ha Long Bay
survives, but as a natural environment, it is dying." The press and
television have been warned not to discuss this tourist alarming
subject.
Forests are suffering, too; Hayton notes that between 1976 and 1990
loggers
"destroyed nearly as much of the country's forest cover as the United States
did with Agent Orange in the 1960s .... The combination of war and
logging has
left a quarter of the country classified as 'bare' or 'denuded.''' But
the
major operators continue to log illegally, either in Vietnam
or over the border in Laos
and Cambodia-military areas where the army may be involved, Hayton
alleges, in
this ecological crime. He describes the slaughter of Vietnam's
rich animal life, which
includes some of our rarest creatures such as elephants, rhinos,
tigers, and
many plants. As in China,
restaurants cater to the rich public's taste for endangered animals
like
pangolins, porcupines, and civet cats, with the "greatest kudos"
going "to those who can buy the most expensive, most endangered, most
sought-after meat available. The trade is vast."
Hayton briefly mentions the use of Agent
Orange in defoliating Vietnam's
forests and other vegetation. It was a tactic borrowed from the British
in Malaya, to deny natural cover to
enemy forces. The US
estimated
that it sprayed 2.6 million hectares, sometimes repeatedly, and that
"between two and five million people were sprayed directly." Agent
Orange and some of the other American defoliants contain dioxin, "one
of
the most toxic chemicals ever made," although I recall being assured by
US
officials in Vietnam
that it was not used deliberately on human beings and in any event was
not that
dangerous.
As Hayton observes, the
dangers of dioxin were well known in the West, where they were
frequently
mentioned during antiwar protests. Hayton reports that tens of
thousands of
children, the offspring of parents who had been sprayed, were born
blind,
limbless, with huge heads, extra arms and legs, and mental handicaps.
Such
children are often hidden from sight-and medical help-because their
parents are
ashamed. Dow and other chemical companies deny responsibility for these
horrible results, but, as Hayton writes, they have also paid millions
of
dollars in compensation to American veterans injured by Agent Orange:
While
assistance with finding US soldiers Missing In Action was a priority
for Washington, Hanoi
wasn't allowed to discuss the mass poisoning of civilians. The contrast
was
obscene but Vietnam
had little choice. The leadership wanted to end the country's
diplomatic
isolation so the whole dioxin issue was dropped.
Eventually Agent Orange again became a
subject during Vietnam's
negotiations with the Americans on economic and security questions. The
presidents of both countries discussed Agent Orange in 2006, and in
2007 the
Americans agreed to help clean up the traces of dioxin at Danang: "Once
again, difficult memories have been suppressed in the interests of a
strategic
rapprochement with the US."
As is
true in some other
Communist or ex-Communist countries, Vietnam's fifty-three
minorities,
which make up 15 percent of the national population, are described in
terms
with which any Chinese would be familiar and most would approve:
"backward," "uncivilized," and "aboriginal." And
as in China,
minorities have been mobilized into theme park entertainment, dressing
up in
their traditional costumes and performing "tribal dances." They have
become, as Hayton puts it, "a backdrop onto which the Kinh [the ethnic
name for the Vietnamese majority] can project their own imaginings." In
2004 the World Bank estimated that 15 percent of the Kinh lived in
poverty,
while the rate for minorities was 75 percent. Hayton recalls how the
French and
Americans mobilized some of the ethnic minorities in the south to fight
against
the Communists by exploiting their sense of grievance against the
Vietnamese
majority.
*
For me,
the most startling
statistic in Hayton's book comes in his passages on prostitution, "now
so
integral to male life in Vietnamese cities that it seems ridiculous
even to try
to eradicate it." In 2001, an official report estimated that there were
at
least half a million prostitutes, more than 1 percent of the female
population-a number that, Hayton supposes, is larger today. "Deals will
often be lubricated and celebrated with the assistance of a cohort of
sex
workers."
Hanoi
commands a huge security apparatus, 6.7 million members in a working
population
of 43 million, meaning that one person in six has a security job.
Hayton points
out that at least one reason to be grateful for this was the power of
the
Vietnamese state when it stopped a possible global epidemic of SARS in
2003.
Security officers surrounded the homes of all infected people, and
hospital
wards were closed off. "It worked .... The WHO declared the disease
'contained' in Vietnam."
The Vietnamese Internet is closed to
discussion of political and religious matters from any source,
especially
overseas Vietnamese. The regime claims that it blocks "unhealthy
sites." This does not include pornography, so "the Vietnamese
firewall allows younggsters to consume plenty of porn but not Amnesty
International reports." Hayton describes a "pervasive sense of fear
that has been instilled into most Vietnamese having contact with
anything which
might seem subversive." Even international NGOs fear to speak publicly
on
sensitive issues without first making inquiries in official circles:
As a result there is no
public criticism of governmental policies or priorities from those who
know
most about it. All comment has to be channeled through Party controlled
structures.
As one would expect, therefore,
outspoken dissidents can expect to be repressed. In January 2006, four
Catholic
priests issued a plea for freedom of speech: "We Are Not Afraid. We
Ought
to Know the Truth." With remarkable boldness for any Communist country,
they called for an end to the Party's monopoly rule, for Party members
and
soldiers to desert, and for non-Communist parties to speak out. In
April 2006,
the principal mover, a heroic priest called Father Nguyen Van Ly, who
had
already spent three terms in jail totaling sixteen years for
anti-Communist
agitation, issued a "Manifesto for Freedom and Democracy"; one of his
cod rafters was a retired army colonel. The document was signed by 118
people.
Some were well known, such as the ex-dean of the Marx-Leninist
Institute of
Philosophy. The regime delayed its reaction; it was then involved in
negotiations to enter the World Trade Organization and President Bush
was
heading for Hanoi
to discuss MIAs and other sensitive issues.
The diplomatic community, as craven as
usual in Communist countries, hedged its remarks, fearful that the
dissidents
could be harming "Vietnam's
gradual path towards stable democracy." What these diplomats wanted was
exactly what Hanoi
wanted: "stability." As soon as the WTO issue was settled and Bush
had gone home, there occurred what Human Rights Watch termed "one of
the
worst crackdowns on peaceful dissidents in 20 years." Students taking
part
in a meeting on human rights "were persuaded to denounce their teachers
as
traitors." At his trial Father Ly shouted that the process was "a
lewd comedy for years, Jurors a bunch of baboons ... ." A security
officer
clapped his hand over the priest's mouth. "The colloquial Vietnamese
word
for censorship is bit mieng-literally, to cover the mouth." Hayton
doesn't
tell us that in 2007 Father Ly was sentenced to eight years in prison
and
released earlier this year after suffering two strokes. The movement he
led has
been crushed.
Hayton points out that while Burma,
which is also brutally hard on
dissidents, is subjected to great international pressure, Vietnam
receives billions of dollars' worth of foreign aid and investment. The
country
"is being wooed by a succession of American admirals in their best
whites," and no American administration
is likely to jeopardize the
multimillion-dollar interests of Intel, Nike, Ford, GE and all the
other US corporations who've invested
in Vietnam, by
pushing for change and instability. International capitalism is doing
very
nicely out of Communist Party rule in Vietnam and stability is a lot more
important than the release of a very few troublesome dissidents.
*
Hayton has written a very
good book about a country about which we know little. He pulls no
punches on
matters that arouse his justifiable concern. He may sound vague when he
concludes that "Vietnam
still has the capacity to surprise." But he is right. He describes the
twists and turns of an authoritarian regime always struggling to keep
control
and-like China-always ready to abandon what seemed like ideals to
maintain itself.
In 1968, during Tet, the New Year
celebrations, Hanoi suffered an
unexpected
setback after 70,000 of its best troops, North Vietnamese and Vietcong,
launched attacks on American installations throughout South Vietnam,
hoping to ignite a general uprising against the Americans and their
South
Vietnamese clients. These attacks culminated in an attack on the
American
embassy in the heart of Saigon. Some
of the
soldiers blasted through the building’s protective wall and Americans
heard Saigon correspondents reporting
that Vietcong were inside
the embassy. Two thousand American soldiers died during Tet and so did
four
thousand South Vietnamese.
Before long the American command stated
that 50,000 Communist soldiers had been killed and General William
Westmoreland
declared that Tet had been an American victory. After a detailed
postmortem,
the Communist side conceded that it had been a disaster for them. But
American
journalists had seen the dead bodies in the embassy. Walter Cronkite,
the
country's most trusted television anchor, who until then had supported
the war,
now broadcast that it "was more certain than ever that the bloody
experience of Vietnam
is to end in a stalemate." This broadcast famously shocked President
Johnson and after some of his closest advisers changed their minds
about the
value of further struggle in Vietnam,
on March 31,1968, he announced that he would not seek a second term. By
then
the North Vietnamese had invited Cronkite to Hanoi-he declined-and in
April
they announced that they were ready for talks with the Americans. These
crept
on for five years while many more Americans and Vietnamese died in
battle.
After the war, one of Hanoi's
most celebrated generals, Tran Do,
admitted to Stanley Karnow:
In all
honesty, we didn't
achieve our main objective, which was to spur uprisings throughout the
south
.... As for making an impact in the United States, it had not
been our
intention-but it turned out to be a fortunate result.
Although
Bao Ninh and other
novelists showed that North Vietnam's
soldiers were terrified as they fought, in the end Hanoi was more stoical or
bloodthirsty or
willing to sacrifice lives than the Americans were. It was one of those
Vietnamese surprises. For Americans Vietnam still lurks in national
memory. In Vietnam
itself
the war cannot be mentioned. Another surprise. +
(1) See
my article "The
War That Will Not End," The New York Review, August 16, 1990.
(2) See my article "No
Trumpets, No Drums," The New York Review, September 21, 1995.
(3) Stanley Karnow, Vietnam:
A
History (Viking, 1983; revised edition, Penguin, 1997), p. 558.
NYRB June 24 2010
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