economics

July 9, 2010

Quantcast In Vietnam, a sign of the times

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Reporting from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam —

Literature lovers who come looking for Rue Catinat in this city once known as Saigon better hope they happen upon a Francophile octogenarian.

The street, made famous in Graham Greene’s “The Quiet American,” hasn’t been called that in more than half a century. These days, it’s called Dong Khoi (Uprising) Street. (And before that, it was called Freedom Street. But more about that later.)

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The story of Catinat-Freedom-Uprising Street is the story of Vietnam itself: The last half a century has seen French, pro-American and communist regimes, along with an economic opening, each inspiring new names.

“I’ve experienced three name changes involving the same street,” said Nguyen Thanh Minh, 56, a restaurant worker in this city, which has had its own name change. “It’s all a bit confusing and can take five or six years to get used to the new one. Sometimes when you mail a letter, you have to write both addresses so it gets delivered.”

Take Rue Catinat, which in “The Quiet American” was portrayed as the epitome of rundown, opium-soaked Saigon under French rule.

Given the baggage associated with this particular street, named after a warship that in 1856 helped cement France’s imperial grip on the country, it’s hardly surprising that the newly independent Vietnamese renamed it as quickly as you can say “au revoir.”

After independence in 1954, as people celebrated a parade of French derrieres returning to Paris, anti-communist dictator Ngo Dinh Diem renamed it Tu Do (Freedom) Street, part of a reassertion of Vietnamese names throughout the country.

Although the new name may have helped Diem cozy up to the Americans in the run-up to the Vietnam War, it didn’t bring the freedom from vice that the Catholic moralist dictator sought.

A flood of American GIs in the 1960s brought more drugs and sex to Freedom Street, along with rock ‘n’ roll and traffic jams. A Vietnamese joke at the time, after city planners routed all vehicles in a single direction, held that freedom was a one-way street reserved for Americans.

With U.S. spending soaring and more shops adopting English names, a worried Saigon government ordered that all stores feature Vietnamese names three times larger than foreign names on their signs. In one noted example, the ” Texas” bar was reborn as the “Te-xa” bar in a larger font.

With the fall of Saigon in 1975, triumphant Viet Cong went on a sign-painting spree, especially in newly renamed Ho Chi Minh City, replacing street names honoring anti-communist heroes with those of communist luminaries.

“First they’d announce a street’s new name on TV or radio,” recalled Nguyen Quang Vinh, a pharmacist and Viet Cong soldier in Saigon when it fell. “Then a couple of days later you’d see them putting up the new signs. There were a lot, so it took some getting used to.”

The street known as Freedom became Uprising Street, after a revolutionary Viet Cong movement in nearby Ben Tre province.

Recently, as more affluent Vietnamese bridle under Communist Party restrictions, that has prompted a joke that everything may be on the rise, but freedom is gone.

Communist revolutionary Nguyen Kim Bach, 70, who helped plan the 1968 Tet offensive, likes the latest crop of street names.

“It’s often good to see a shift, especially when you don’t like what the old names represent,” he said.

Marie Nguyen, 59, who fled Vietnam in the 1970s with her husband, a paratrooper in the anti-communist south, and who now splits her time between Vietnam and Australia, feels differently: “The old names are part of our history. I much prefer them.”

The Communist Party’s efforts to imprint its revolutionary stamp on the citizenry have been helped by Vietnam’s demographics, with one of the youngest populations in the world.

“Youngsters have no memory of what came before, like youngsters everywhere,” Nguyen said.

“I haven’t noticed any real switch,” agreed Le Thi My Hanh, 24, a native of the coastal city of Nha Trang who spent three years in Ho Chi Minh City attending a university before heading overseas for graduate school. “It’s rather hard to relate to older people on the street with all the change.”

In recent years, Vietnam has seen another generation of names as the government reshapes provinces, districts and towns to streamline administration and, some insiders say, bolster the careers of particular party secretaries, a Vietnamese version of gerrymandering.

“These efforts to get manageable units with the population change have become very complicated, with some older names from history reasserting themselves,” said Carlyle A. Thayer, a professor at the Australian Defense Force Academy. “It’s been a bit like putting a straitjacket on a mental patient: It hasn’t always fit.”

The few French street names that have survived in Ho Chi Minh City, down from 60 in colonial times, honor scientists who presumably remain above the ideological fray, including Louis Pasteur (1822-95) and Nobel laureate Marie Curie (1867-1934).

“If the name changes, but the street looks the same, it’s not a problem,” said Nguyen Thanh Minh, the restaurant worker. “But if the whole appearance changes, it gets confusing. Fortunately the numbers stay the same.”

One change that hasn’t really stuck, even after 35 years, is Ho Chi Minh City, which most locals still refer to as Saigon.

“Most Vietnamese prefer the old name,” said Nguyen Kim Bach, the revolutionary. “Saigon is only two syllables. When you have to say ‘the City of Ho Chi Minh,’ it can be a bit of a mouthful.”

May 17, 2010

Le Monde Diplomatique April 2010 Greater Hanoi swallows the countryside

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Hanoi is now ranked ahead of Shanghai, Beijing, Tokyo and Seoul as the place to shop in Asia. It has annexed vast areas of farmland on which to build suburbs served by motorways. But the lives and homes of ordinary Vietnamese, rural or urban, aren’t improving that fast

by Xavier Monthéard

The Vietnamese architect Hoang Huu Phe made a passionate case for a policy of all-out urban development in Hanoi: “Some people in government still see a city only as an administrative entity. Luckily this backward-looking attitude is on the decline. We need to build an attractive, hi-tech capital with an international outlook. After all, the Americans built Las Vegas in the middle of a desert.”

His opinions carry weight: he is the director of the research and development division of Vinaconex, Vietnam’s biggest state-owned construction firm, typical of the flourishing enterprises of the post-communist era. His sky-blue office is hung with futuristic blueprints alongside photographs of completed buildings and a hi-tech video screen. Phe claimed to have no concerns about property bubbles: “We must use property speculation as a driving force. Our determination will protect this city from the laissez-faire approach that has led to cosmopolitanism in Bangkok or Manila, which you could call westernisation. I am trying to use market mechanisms to make my dream come true.”

Last year, the online magazine Smart Travel Asia ranked Hanoi the continent’s sixth-best city for shopping, after Hong Kong and Singapore but ahead of Bali, Shanghai, Tokyo, Beijing and Seoul. Vietnam is in. In 2008 property projects there attracted more than $28bn, or almost half of all direct foreign investment in Vietnam (1). Property prices in its larger cities have shot up. Can this really be the battered post-communist Vietnam that Noam Chomsky believed would need a century to recover, if it ever did (2)?

In August 2008 Prime Minister Nguyen Tan Dung announced that, with immediate effect, Hanoi would absorb Ha Tay province and a number of adjoining towns. Overnight it tripled in size to more than 3,300km2. According to Laurent Pandolfi of the Hanoi Cooperation Centre for Urban Development, “Even though the decision was made very quickly and has strong political motives, it is not short on logic. It is consistent with a policy of urbanisation, and one hopes that it will supported by large infrastructure projects, such as the future subway.” The government also commissioned a US-Korean organisation to draw up a new urban plan within a short (some would say impossible) time frame.
Decollectivised land

Why the fuss over “Greater Hanoi”? To understand, go back some 20 years. Since 1986 Vietnam has had a policy of economic opening up, similar to China’s doi moi (renewal). In 1990 the political bureau of the Communist Party acknowledged the family as an autonomous economic entity of production and enterprise and proposed the allocation of land to family units. This was the beginning of decollectivisation. A new law in 1993 allowed private individuals to hold land-use rights on renewable long-term leases (initially of 15 years). These rights can be sub-leased, sold and inherited, although the Vietnamese state reserves pre-emption rights to prevent the theoretical possibility of land grabbing by the urban bourgeoisie. Important property reserves remain in the hands of the Communist Party, the army and communist mass organisations such as the Fatherland Front and the trade unions.

In 1993 the market value of land was low but exports have quadrupled in 15 years and some 10,000 foreign companies are now operating in Vietnam. As a result, the old rice paddies have become goldmines. Commercial ambitions are beginning to conflict with historical legacies, such as the allocation of colonial villas to families that distinguished themselves in the war against the US, or the reservation of vast estates for the military. The property developers want land that the city can no longer supply.

According to its advocates, the development of Greater Hanoi will require the construction of satellite towns. This will open up the mountainous areas to the west while reducing population density in the capital, and will connect Hanoi to the flow of international commerce while providing it with modern housing. One name sums up this: Splendora. This complex is under construction in North An Khanh, in the former province of Ha Tay. A motorway will pass close by, leading to the Hoa Lac High-tech Park, where Vietnam’s Silicon Valley is to be built. Vietnam National University, Hanoi, will be transferred to Hoa Lac and provided with a campus. The park is expected to attract a range of high value-added green technological industries.

At harvest time last year, farmers were using sickles to cut rice around where the motorway was still under construction. Children led buffalo and horses and goats roamed among the concrete blocks. Signboards advertised residential complexes in varying stages of completion, including Splendora and the Singapore-designed Tricon Towers, three 44-story buildings offering 732 condominiums with swimming pools, a medical centre and a kindergarten (3). So far nobody had dared touch the village cemeteries that lay scattered among the paddies, mournful reminders of the old Vietnam.

The promotional videos I saw showed big developments with green spaces and lakes, all in 3D. Fast roads would allow traffic to flow through a mix of skyscrapers, smaller buildings and detached houses. The videos depicted a serene shopping experience in superstores, far from the tumult of the city centre or the boorishness of the suburbs. “But do you see any nurseries or schools or sanitation equipment in these videos?” asked Pham Van Cu, a geographer at Vietnam National University, Hanoi. “Where are the ordinary people, where is the economic activity? Such projects put the investors’ interests first. The state will lose resources, services will be privatised and people of modest means will become dependent on the service companies… rich people pay other rich people: they’re the only winners.”

These medium- to high-end developments do target the well-off, the 10% who earn 30% of the national income and like to stroll around Hanoi’s West Lake on Sundays. Developers hope they will leave the city centre for more spacious accommodation and the calm of the suburbs, in the US sense of the word. There is one problem: the farmland between the residential developments, motorways and industrial zones will be cut off from its irrigation systems. The new developments are built on mounds, which heighten the risk of floods in the lower-lying villages of this densely populated alluvial plain. And as Vietnam is in a monsoon zone, it rains a lot. Regulations governing construction of such mounds in built-up areas require developers to install drainage systems. But when the state withdraws to the point of transferring control of urban and rural planning to investors, who is to keep watch? In return for building road infrastructure, the government rewards the developers with parcels of adjacent land. It even delegates the compulsory land purchases to them.

This was the case in Hoa Muc, a village closer to the centre of Hanoi affected by an earlier redrawing of administrative boundaries. When it was reclassified as an urban district in 1997, land prices rose. Three years later the authorities – that is, Vinaconex – began construction on the Nuong Chin-Trung Hoa residential development. “Hoa Muc was one of the many villages in Vietnam whose inhabitants pursued both agriculture and crafts. Here it was brick-making,” said the Canadian sociologist Danièle Labbé. “When the state decided to build Nuong Chin-Trung Hoa, it issued compulsory purchase orders for the villagers’ agricultural land, leaving them just their houses and a small patch of ground to cultivate. The state negotiated the level of compensation via the People’s Committee (the municipal authorities) and the mass organisations. The inhabitants knew that villagers in other newly urbanised districts who had resisted had been treated badly, so they gave in. Since 2003 the state has directly entrusted the developers with the task of making these compulsory purchases. There have been promises of new jobs and vocational training, which have not generally been kept. At Hoa Muc the financial compensation, though far below market rates, was decent. But in other places the conflicts have reached deadlock.”
Social transition

The Hanoi People’s Committee, whose members are urban, is trying to deal with problems of which it has little understanding – those of rural districts. The social risks are considerable. “It’s not easy to make the transition from country to town without preparation, especially when it happens quickly,” stressed Labbé. “It’s very hard to find a new job. And we’re talking about a village that’s only four kilometres from the city centre and has been linked to it for centuries. What will it be like for those living further out?”

The destabilisation of peri-urban areas also threatens the commercial city centre, whose development has relied, since at least the 17th century, on continual exchange with a peripheral belt rich in agriculture, crafts and industries. At the end of the 1980s, this traditional arrangement, which had been shattered by the Communist period and the war, was revived, and the city with it. The “36 streets and corporations” quarter is typical. Famous for its commercial vitality, it draws vital components from the countryside into the city. Ornate and brightly coloured residential buildings, surrounded by a maze of structures with many internal courtyards and hidden floors, overflow with merchandise. Each street has its speciality and often its own smell: coffee roasting, the odours of traditional pharmacopoeia (with spices such as cinnamon, aniseed and ginger beside medicinal ingredients). There are streets for office equipment, second-hand clothes and cut steel. Restaurants alternate with businesses, many of them the “dust restaurants” that offer a typically Southeast Asian sociability: Hanoi people like to eat outdoors, in spite of the noise, and crowded conditions. They sit on low stools to be as close as possible to the ground. The traffic roars and the division between the pavement and the roadway is notional. Cars (still few in number) jostle for space with thousands of motorcycles.
Number-one employer

The emergence of family micro-units working in services and retail has just about made up for the loss of jobs in the public sector and farming. A poll of several thousand households found that the informal sector is now the number-one employer in Hanoi (30%) and operates as an enclave economy, relatively cut off from formal business channels (4). I saw some of this informal sector. It included an old itinerant saleswoman trotting along so as not to bend under the weight of her wares; two stately women on bicycles, carrying star fruit and custard apples; and Man, a young moto-taxi (motorcycle taxi) driver, providing a vital service in a city where public transport is in its infancy. He spends 10 hours a day in heavy pollution – and danger, given Hanoi drivers’ idiosyncratic interpretation of traffic rules. During a break, he treated himself to a lungful of smoke from a beautifully decorated pipe. A pouch of low-quality tobacco only costs a few US cents. But, like everything else, it has become more expensive. “I can still manage two meals a day. But I have to be careful. My partner does manicures; she’s not rich either. I don’t have enough money to get married, so I smoke and drink less. But it’ll take years to scrape enough together.”

His worst problem, besides the inflation that keeps raising the cost of basic essentials, was accommodation. He was renting a cubbyhole of 10m2 for $52 a month, water and electricity included. Coming from the provinces, Man had little hope of finding anything better: everything had been taken by native Hanoians. A young woman about to complete a doctorate in sociology was in a similar predicament. She bowed her head in embarrassment, so acutely did her social circumstances contrast with her professional aspirations. She was still living in shared accommodation with a communal toilet and shower. “I’ve studied for 10 years, I do research for a prestigious institute, but nothing is coming onto the market. In fact it’s the opposite. For the past two years, it’s been impossible to find accommodation. The university’s halls of residence are jam-packed. It’s not right that the government should give students so little support.”

According to Nguyen Thi Thieng, of the population department at the National Economic University in Hanoi, “Studies show clearly that migrants now settle in the outlying districts whereas, until 2007, they gathered in the central districts of Ba Dinh and Hoan Kiem. They can no longer find housing in the areas where they work.” Dispossessed farmers sometimes turn makeshift landlords. As Danièle Labbé explained: “On the little patches of land they have been left with, the inhabitants of Hoa Muc have erected simple buildings to rent to students and workers who don’t have the means to live in the centre. It’s very big business.”

This is because demand is rising while developers’ projects make it ever harder to get access to property by causing prices to rise. According to the April 2009 census, the city now has 6.5 million inhabitants – as many as the whole of neighbouring Laos. Even though the basic family unit has stabilised at four people (5), demographers expect a national population increase of about one million a year over the next few years, most of the growth in cities.
Everyone for himself

At a conference in Hanoi in September 2009, Martin Rama, the World Bank’s chief economist for Vietnam, was enthusiastic about Vietnam’s progress in poverty reduction, which he pronounced to be even faster than China’s, claiming that the ratio of the population under the poverty threshold had fallen from 58% in 1993 to only 16% in 2006 and even lower since. Nguyen Nga, who was involved in humanitarian and economic development projects for 20 years, was less sanguine: “To understand Hanoi, you have to remember the misery of the 1980s. When I looked at children then, I used to tell myself they were learning to cope with inequality along with hunger and that they were making it part of themselves. And that’s what happened. Those children are 20 now, and know no other culture than ‘everyone for himself’. They want their share of material wealth, but their sensitivity is atrophied; their dreams are impoverished.”

When autumn comes to Hanoi, it’s wedding season, because the moon, a symbol of fertility, is at its purest and most brilliant. It’s customary at this time of year to give presents of little round biscuits representing the celestial body. The origins of the custom are lost in antiquity, but last year, the 4646th of the traditional calendar, the most highly prized biscuits were those bearing the logo of the Sheraton Hotel. Have the Americans finally conquered Vietnamese hearts and minds, 35 years after the war? The time of ideological divisions is long past. Nationalism, abandoning its Communist past, is going back to its roots. According to the historian Nguyen The Anh, “the country is returning to a time before French colonisation. Especially where the structure of government is concerned. The ruling caste, whatever you want to call it, can be compared to a self-proclaimed mandarinate, minus the Confucian virtues. As for the people, they are reviving the old cults.”

I noticed a group of workers from the provinces who had been restoring a 17th-century temple. Surrounded by the mud and the incessant noise of the capital, their makeshift camp was built around a statue of the local guardian spirit, a deified popular hero, which generations of squatters had left intact. Flowers, fruit, cooked food and joss sticks were heaped up at its feet.

Translated by Tom Genrich

Xavier Monthéard is a journalist

(1) See Hanoi Statistical Office, Hanoi Statistical Yearbook, Hanoi, 2009.

(2) See Noam Chomsky, Understanding Power: The Indispensable Chomsky, edited by Peter R Mitchell and John Schoeffel, New Press, New York, 2002.

(3) See Minh Ky, “Tricon Towers: A New Face for Hanoi”, Vietnam Economic News, 11 September 2009;

(4) See Jean-Pierre Cling, Le Van Dy, Nguyen Thi. Thu Huyen, Phan T Ngoc Tram, Mireille Razafindrakoto and François Roubaud, “Shedding Light on a Huge Black Hole: The Informal Sector in Hanoi” (PDF), GSO-ISS/IRD-DIAL Project, Hanoi, April 2009.

(5) With 2.08 children per woman nationwide and 1.83 in urban environments; see United Nations Population Fund, Viet Nam Population 2008, Hanoi, April 2009.

Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine in the People’s Republic of China Felix Wemheuer

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Click to access GreatLeapFamine_ChinaQuarterly.pdf

ABSTRACT In the aftermath of the famine in 1962, Mao Zedong took
formal responsibility for the failure of the Great Leap Forward in the
name of the central government. Thousands of local cadres were made
scapegoats and were legally punished. This article focuses on the question of
how the different levels of the Chinese state, such as the central government,
the province and the county, have dealt with the question of responsibility
for the famine. The official explanation for the failure of the Great Leap
will be compared to unofficial memories of intellectuals, local cadres and villagers.
The case study of Henan province shows that local cadres are highly
dissatisfied with the official evaluation of responsibility. Villagers bring suffering,
starvation and terror into the discourse, but these memories are constructed
in a way to preserve village harmony. This article explains why
these different discourses about responsibility of the famine are unlinked
against the background of the “dual society”; the separation between
urban and rural China. Finally, it will be shown that the Communist
Party was unable to convince parts of society and the Party to accept the
official interpretation.
Your dogs and swine eat the food of men, and you do not make any restrictive
arrangements. There are people dying from famine and you do not issue the stores
of your granaries for them. When people die, you say “It is not owing to me, it is
owing to the year.” In which way does this differ from stabbing a man and killing
him and saying – “It was not I; it was the weapon?” Let your Majesty cease to lay
the blame on the year, and instantly from all the nation the people will come to you.
Mencius1
In the world view of imperial China, natural disaster and famine have been
seen as indicators of the fate of a dynasty. According to traditional Confucian
values, the ruler should not ignore his responsibility for nourishing the people
1 James Legge (ed.), The Chinese Classics, Vol. 2, The Works of Mencius (Hong Kong: Hong Kong
University Press, 1970) p. 132.
176
© The China Quarterly, 2010 doi:10.1017/S0305741009991123
and organizing famine aid in a case of a natural disaster.2 After the foundation of
“New China,” between 15 and 40 million people starved to death in the famine
caused by the Great Leap Forward in the years between 1959 and 1961.3 Despite
the fact that this famine represents the greatest human and economic catastrophe
in the history of the People’s Republic of China (PRC), the Communist Party of
China (CCP) and its leader Mao Zedong managed to stay in power. How could
the peasants and the Party members live on after such a human disaster and the
total failure of government policy? This article focuses on how the different levels
of the state and society, including the central government, the province, the
county and villages, dealt with the famine and handled the question of
responsibility.4
The aim of this article is not to explain who is responsible for the famine,5 but
to understand in which ways the Chinese state and society have handled this
question and reflect it in contemporary memories.6 In this context, I treat memories
as a social construction according to the needs of a group in the present.7
Maurice Halbwachs introduced the term collective memory: different social
groups such as classes, religious communities or families have their own collective
memories, which are connected to special places where the group lives. If the
2 Jennifer Eileen Downs, “Famine policy and discourses on famine in Ming China 1368–1644,” unpublished
PhD thesis, University of Minnesota, 1995), p. 42. see also Pierre-Etienne Will, R. Bin Wong and
James Lee, Nourish the People: The State Civilian Granary System in China, 1650–1850 (Ann Arbor:
Center for Chinese Studies, 1991).
3 The number of people who died as a result of the famine remains a controversial issue. Based on Chinese
population statistics that were published in the early 1980s, scholars estimate different figures. Peng
Xizhe calculated 23 million deaths in 14 provinces (Peng Xizhe, “Demographic consequences of the
Great Leap Forward in China’s provinces,” Population and Development Review, Vol. 13, No. 4
(1987), p. 649). Ansley Coale came to the conclusion that 16.5 million people died, and Basil Ashton
counted 30 million deaths and 30 missing births (Basil Ashton and Kenneth Hill, “Famine in China,
1958–1961,” Population and Development Review, Vol. 10, No. 4 (1984), p. 614). Jasper Becker estimated
43 to 46 million casualties on the basis of an internal investigation of the Chinese government
(Jasper Becker, Hungry Ghosts – China’s Secret Famine (London: Murray 1996), p. 272).
4 This article is an outcome of my dissertation. Felix Wemheuer, Steinnudeln: Ländliche Erinnerungen und
staatliche Vergangenheitsbewältigung der „Großen Sprung“ – Hungersnot in der chinesischen Provinz
Henan (Stone Noodles: Rural and Official Memories of the Great Leap Famine in the Chinese
Province Henan) (Vienna: Peter Lang, 2007).
5 Western academics have already debated the question of who developed and promoted the idea of the
Great Leap Forward in the central leadership. On this point see Roderick MacFarquhar, The Origins of
the Cultural Revolution 2 – The Great Leap Forward 1958–1960 (New York: Oxford University Press,
1983); Fredrick Teiwes and Warren Sun, China’s Road to Disaster – Mao, Central Politicians, and
Provincial Leaders in the Unfolding of the Great Leap Forward 1955–1959 (London: Sharpe, 1999);
David Bachman, Bureaucracy, Economy and Leadership in China – The Institutional Origins of the
Great Leap Forward (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991); Alfred L. Chan, Mao’s Crusade –
Politics and Implementations in China’s Great Leap Forward (New York: Oxford University Press,
2001); and Thomas Bernstein, “Mao Zedong and the famine of 1959–1960: a study of wilfulness,”
The China Quarterly, No. 186 (2006), pp. 421–45.
6 Regarding memories see Erik Mueggler, “Spectral chains: remembering the Great Leap Forward famine
in a Yi community,” and Kimberley Manning “Communes, canteens, and creches: the gendered politics
of remembering the Great Leap Forward,” in Ching Kwan Lee and Guobin Yang (eds.), Re-envisioning
the Chinese Revolution – The Politics and Poetics of Collective Memories in Reform China (Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 2007); and Jun Jing, The Temple of Memories – History, Power and
Morality in a Chinese Village (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996), p. 100.
7 Maurice Halbwachs, Das Gedächtnis und seine sozialen Bedingungen (The Social Frames of Memory)
(Frankfurt (M): Suhrkamp, 1985), p. 360.
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 177
group splits or these places are destroyed, there is no longer a basis to reconstruct
collective memories.8
First, this article describes how the central state and the official historiography
of the Party have dealt with the famine. Official memories were created by highranking
Party historians who were loyal to the interpretation given by the central
government.9 Second, it shows how intellectuals, local cadres and journalists use
the gaps in the official canon to present their own views of the past. Despite the
censorship, unofficial memories are published in historical magazines and books
as long as the interpretations do not challenge the official interpretation directly.
Against this background, memories in the PRC could be divided between official
and unofficial. As Ruby Watson has pointed out in her studies about Eastern
Europe, the socialist states failed to convince society of their interpretations of
the past. An alternative “underground memory” always existed.10
Third, this article analyses the official history of Henan province11 and shows
how the provincial leadership handled the question of responsibility. In 1958,
Henan became a model province of the Great Leap for the whole of China.
Since Henan was the site of the most radical implementation of the Great
Leap policies, the famine was more severe here than most other regions.
Henan was the location of an episode of mass starvation in the notorious
“Xinyang Incident” (Xinyang shijian 信阳事件), which in turn became the catalyst
for the central government to stop the famine.12 In this context, I explore the
ways in which three counties in Henan and its historians dealt with the famine.
The article then turns to the memories of peasants and local cadres in three villages
based on a case study of three counties in Henan where I conducted oral
history interviews with cadres and peasants in 2005. Given that peasants normally
do not write their memoirs, oral history is a way to discover how people
at the grass roots level of society remember the past and how they answer the
question of responsibility. Finally, the article concludes by answering questions
about the reasons for missing links between different discourses relating to
responsibility.
The Central State: Explanation within the Soviet Tradition
In late 1960, the Party leadership was no longer able to ignore the famine.
To justify the new policies, the central government had to give an explanation
8 Maurice Halbwachs, Stätten der Verkündigungen im Heiligen Land (The Legendary Topography of the
Gospels in the Holy Land) (Konstanz: UVK Verlagsgesellschaft, 2003), p. 166.
9 Regarding party history in China see Susanne Weigelin-Schwiedrzik, “Party historiography,” in
Jonathan Unger (ed.), Using the Past to Serve the Present – Historiography and Politics in
Contemporary China (London: M.E. Sharpe, 1993).
10 Rubie S. Watson (ed.), Memory, History and Opposition under State Socialism (Houston: School of
American Research Press, 1994), p. 4.
11 Regarding the Great Leap Forward in Henan see Jean-Luc Domenach, The Origins of the Great Leap
Forward – The Case of One Province (Oxford: Westminster Press, 1995). This book focuses on the politics
in Henan from 1949 to 1958 and not on the famine.
12 Interview with a Party historian from Henan, 5 August 2005 (Zhengzhou).
178 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
for what went wrong during the Great Leap Forward. It had to decide whether or
not officials of the central, provincial or local leadership should be replaced. The
explanation for the failure of the Great Leap was linked to the question of
responsibility, although assessing responsibility was, as shown below, a highly
political and problematic exercise. Given the visibility of the famine and the longstanding
linkage between state legitimacy and ability to provide sustenance for
the population, assessing responsibility was critical for the legitimacy of the
CCP, both for Party members and the population at large.
Between late 1960 and 1961, the Party made great efforts to fight the famine.
The Chinese government imported grain to feed starving peasants, public dining
halls were abolished and private plots reintroduced. The first important discussion
on the question of the responsibility for the failure of the Great Leap
took place at the so-called 7,000 cadres meeting in 1962.
To analyse the question of how the central leadership handled the question of
responsibility for the famine, this article compares three documents which play a
central role in the official historiography in China: first, the speech that Chinese
president Liu Shaoqi gave at the 7,000 cadres conference in January 1962;
second, the “Resolution for Party history since the foundation of the People’s
Republic of China,” promulgated by the central leadership in 1981 as a new
canon on post-1949 history; and third, the two 1993 volumes Reflections on
Certain Major Decisions and Events by the retired central leader Bo Yibo
which could be read as an official comment on the canon.13 Despite the fact
that Bo Yibo is a veteran cadre and not a Party historian, his interpretation is
often cited in official and unofficial books about the history of the PRC from
1949 to 1965.
In all three documents, the main problem is not the famine itself, which is
attributed to the failure of economic construction, “leftist” mistakes and the
split in the Party at the Lushan conference. The documents focus on the mistakes
and shortcomings of Party policies, not on the scale of human suffering in the
villages. The explanation provided by the central government was within the
framework of orthodox Marxism-Leninism. The three documents mention very
similar reasons for the failure of the Great Leap Forward: leftist mistakes, the
lack of experience with socialist construction and the weather as an external
force.
Within the framework of the Marxist-Leninist Party historiography, established
in the 1938 Soviet Short Course of the History of the Communist Party
of the Soviet Union, the history of the Party was written as a struggle of the correct
line of the centre against rightist and leftist tendencies.14 In Liu Shaoqi’s
speech, the Resolution and Bo Yibo’s book, the Great Leap was presented as
13 Bo Yibo, Ruogan zhongda juece yu shijian de huigu (Reflections on Certain Major Decisions and Events)
(Beijing: Zhongyang dangxiao chubanshe, 1993).
14 For a more detailed comparison with the Soviet Union see Felix Wemheuer, “Regime changes of memories:
creating official history of the Ukrainian and Chinese famine under state socialism and after the
Cold War,” Kritika Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History, Vol. 10, No. 1 (2009), pp. 31–59.
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 179
a leftist mistake which the central government committed as a result of overenthusiasm.
As a result, the history of leftist mistakes was written as a tragedy
of good intentions.15 Crimes which caused millions of deaths could be
de-emphasized as mistakes. Both the theoretical explanation and the language
had been borrowed from the Soviet tradition. In a speech in 1980 regarding
Party history, Deng Xiaoping said that Mao Zedong, along with other leading
comrades from the central leadership such as Liu Shaoqi, Zhou Enlai and himself,
had became a “hot head” (tounao fare 头脑发热) during the high tide of the
Great Leap.16 The Resolution explained that facing victory the comrades from
the central government and the lower ranks became arrogant and self-satisfied
(shengli mianqian zizhang le jiaoao ziman qingxu 胜利面前滋长了骄傲自满情
绪).17 These were almost the same words which were used in the Chinese translation
of the Short Course to explain the over-enthusiasm (chengjiu er tounao fare
成就而头脑发热) of local cadres during the collectivization of agriculture in the
Soviet Union in 1929.18
In this famous internal speech in 1962, Liu Shaoqi quoted a peasant from
Hunan who said that the catastrophe was 70 per cent man-made and 30 per
cent caused by nature. Liu acknowledged only that this evaluation was true in
some regions of China.19 In 1981, when the central committee established the
new canon, they did not go so far. The Resolution mentioned leftism first,
then the weather and the retreat of the Soviet experts. Another interesting fact
is that in his speech Liu did not even mention the retreat of the Soviet experts
as a reason for the failure of the Great Leap. In sum, the external forces like
the climate and the policy of the Soviet Union played a greater role in the
Resolution of 1981 than in the internal explanation in the aftermath of the famine
in 1962. Like leftism, the lack of experience in socialist construction was a justification
which was often used in the Soviet Union. Lui Shaoqi presented the failure
of Great Leap as a “study fee” (xuefei 学费).20
At the 7,000 cadres conference in 1962, Mao Zedong acknowledged formal
responsibility for the leftist mistakes in the name of the Central Committee21;
in particular he cited the steel campaign, the “backyard furnace,” and unfeasibly
15 See William A. Joseph, “A tragedy of good intentions – post-Mao views of the Great Leap Forward,”
Modern China, Vol. 12, No. 4 (1986), pp. 419–57.
16 Deng Xiaoping: “Dui qi cao ‘guanyu jianguo yilai de ruogan lizhi wenti de jueyi’ de yijian” (“Draft the
suggestions for ‘Resolution on some questions concerning the history of the Party since the founding of
the PRC’”), in Deng Xiaoping wenxian, Vol. 2 (Beijing: Renmin chubanshe, 1983), p. 296.
17 “Guanyu jianguo yilai dang de ruogan lishi wenti de jueyi” (“Resolution on some questions concerning
the history of the Party since the founding of the PRC”) Renmin ribao (People’s Daily), 1 July 1981.
18 Liangong (bu) dangshi jianming jiaocheng (Short Course in History of the Communist Party of the Soviet
Union) (Beijing: Renmin chubanshe, 1975), p. 339.
19 Lui Shaoqi, “Zai kuoda de zhongyang gongzuo huiyi shang de jianghua” (“Speech on the expanded
working conference of the Central Committee”), in Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi:
Jianguo yilai zhongyao wenjian xuanbian (A Collection of Important Documents after the Foundation
of the State) (Beijing: Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 1997), Vol. 15, p. 88.
20 Ibid. p. 23.
21 Bo Yibo, Reflections on Certain Major Decisions and Events, Vol. 2, p. 27.
180 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
high planning targets and grain procurement quotas.22 Mao took responsibility for
these policies as the chairman of the CCP. In his speech about Party history in
1980, Deng Xiaoping again assigned responsibility for the errors of the Great Leap
to the central leadership.23 The same explanation was given in the Resolution of
1981 and in the book by Bo Yibo. In addition to the acknowledgement of formal
responsibility, direct responsibility was heaped on local cadres for violation of Party
rules and crimes against the masses. Liu Shaoqi attacked them for using a
Kuomintang work style.24 Using local cadres as scapegoats was a long-practised tradition
in both the Soviet and Chinese tradition. In China, this tradition goes back to
themyth of the good emperorwhowants the best for the people and evil local officials
who are driven by selfish motives. Thousands of local cadres were sent to prison.
Additionally, villagers were criticized for their ideology of “peasant egalitarianism”
(nongmin juedui pingjunzhuyi 农民绝对平均主义) by Bo Yibo which was seen as a
reason for the radicalization of the Great Leap in 1958 and the “wind of communism.”
25 This theory was used by Stalin in the early 1930s when he blamed the rural
workers for bringing ideas of peasant egalitarianism into the factories.26
To summarize, the central government assumed responsibility for the famine
only indirectly and formally. The Party historiography excluded the suffering
and starvation of the peasants from their discourses. Peasants were not accorded
the status of victims.
Memories of Intellectuals and the Question of Responsibility
In this context, I raise the question of whether intellectuals in China have challenged
the official interpretation of responsibility. In contrast to the peasants,
in the PRC intellectuals have access to public space and they publish their memoirs
of the Great Leap in books and historical magazines.27
In 2001, I interviewed eight urban intellectuals who were sent to the countryside
in 1958 in order to support the Great Leap. In the context of this qualitative
case study, I held oral history interviews with retired teachers of the Agriculture
University and People’s University in Beijing. These intellectuals shared the official
interpretation of the leftist tragedy of good intentions.28 For example, Liu
22 Feng Xianzhi and Jin Chongji, Mao Zedong zhuan 1949–1976 (A Biography of Mao Zedong) (Beijing:
Zhongyangwenxian chubanshe, 2003), Vol. 2, p. 1181.
23 Deng Xiaoping, “Draft the suggestions,” p. 296.
24 Lui Shaoqi, “Speech on the expanded working conference,” p. 39.
25 Bo Yibo, Reflections on Certain Major Decisions and Events, Vol. 2, p. 1284.
26 Stalin, Gesammelte Werke, Vol. 13, p. 105.
27 For example Ge Jinwei, “Fudan daxue de ‘Dayuejin’ guihua” (“The planning of the ‘Great Leap
Forward’ at Fudan University”), and Wei Junyi, “‘Hou re’ de niandai, hou re de xin” (“Hot time,
hot heart”) in Zhang Zhanbin, Liu Jiehui and Zhang Guohua (eds.), “Dayuejin” he sannian kunan
shiqi de Zhongguo (The “Great Leap Forward” and China in the Period of Three Years of Difficulties)
(Beijing: Zhongguo shangye chubanshe, 2001), and Liu Lian, “Xushui ‘dayuejin’ qinshiji” (“The
‘Great Leap Forward’ in Xushui – experienced history”), Bainian Chao, No. 7 (1999), pp. 53–59.
28 Felix Wemheuer, Chinas Großer Sprung nach vorne (1958–1961) Von der kommunistischen Offensive in
die Hungersnot – Intellektuelle erinnern sich (China’s Great Leap Forward 1958–1961: From the
Communist Offensive to the Famine – Intellectuals Remember) (Münster: LitVerlag, 2004).
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 181
Lian, a female teacher at the Agricultural University, was sent with hundreds of
colleagues to the model county Xushui in Hebei province. In her memoirs and the
interview, Liu Lian presents over-enthusiastic local cadres who reported false
production figures, and ignorant peasants who divided the cloth of the
co-operative store “to each according to his needs” during the high tide of egalitarianism.
In contrast to the local people, she realized at once that the steel campaign
and the deep ploughing were disastrously destructive. According to her
memoirs, she protested against the smashing of a water wheel for the steel
campaign:
As the wok of the last family was destroyed, it was still not enough to meet the production goals
in a [cadre’s] notebook. He moved his head, came back and wanted to smash the waterwheel of
the production team. I couldn’t stand this and stood in his way: “The waterwheel is an important
production means and is needed for irrigation.” With cold eyes he looked at me: “Would
you like to take over my position as a cadre and look how it is?” For a moment I did not know
what to say. He moved back to the cadres of the production team standing next to him and
commanded: “Smash it!” After the three waterwheels were destroyed, the necessary figure
was reached.29
Liu Lian’s story is interesting within the context of responsibility. Local cadres
seem to have no choice, because they are responsible for the fulfilment of the
steel quota and not for its disastrous results in the villages. Liu Lian presents herself
as a good Marxist-Leninist who tried to prevent the catastrophic results of the
policies of the Great Leap in the name of the Party. In her story, she reminded the
local cadres of their responsibility for the villagers and their economic resources.
However, Liu Lian became silent under the political pressure in the end. In the
campaign against Peng Dehuai and “right-wing opportunists,” her husband,
the famous Party historian He Ganzhi, was singled out to be struggled against.
In this argumentation, the intellectuals had no other choice than to hope for a
policy change from above.
Other intellectuals saw themselves as naïve children who blindly trusted
Chairman Mao and the Communist Party. They hoped under this leadership
the Chinese nation would overcome times of difficulties.30 Wei Junyi who, in
1958, had been sent to the Zhangjiakou region in Hebei province, writes in his
memoirs that he did not understand anything at all, after he saw the campaigns
of the Great Leap with his own eyes. In the article “Hot time, hot heart,” he compares
himself with a naïve child who is beaten by his mother again and again, but
still loves her.31 Casting himself in the role of dependent and ignorant child, he
avoids any responsibility.
In the memoirs and oral history interviews of many intellectuals about the
Great Leap, the famine and suffering of the peasants is not an important
topic. They remember the villagers as a faceless mass who blindly executed the
29 Liu Lian, “The ‘Great Leap Forward’ in Xushui,” p. 57.
30 Interview with Zhang Chengguang, May 2002 (Beijing), interview with Zhang Zhiguo, 5 August 2005
(Zhengzhou).
31 Wei Junyi, “Hot time, hot heart,” p. 143.
182 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
orders of the Party.32 In contrast to “rightists,” the urban intellectuals who were
sent to the countryside to support the Great Leap had privileges in the state
supply system and most of them left the villages in 1959 before the famine
broke out in earnest. Their greatest fear was to be labelled “right-wing opportunists.”
Knowledge of the latest People’s Daily article and the correct Party line
was more important for their survival than was access to food. Since intellectuals
have been left out of official accounts of responsibility, they can avoid challenging
official historiography when they present their versions of either dependency
or attempting to speak truth to power. The turning point in their biographies was
not the famine but the Cultural Revolution, when most of them lost their privileged
status. It is thus not surprising that the Cultural Revolution looms much
larger as a topic in the memoirs of intellectuals, and that there is much less attention
paid to the Great Leap.
Local Cadres and their Discourses of Suffering, Starvation and Terror
Since the late 1990s, a small number of local cadres have published their memoirs
of the Great Leap Forward in historical magazines or in volumes on post-1949
history. They are already retired and some of them are using the last years of
their lives to tell their own version of the famine. In contrast to intellectuals,
they address the question of suffering, starvation and the terror of the villagers.
Wang Ding, the Party secretary of Huangjiang county in Guangxi province,
was removed from office in 1957. He remembers the policy of terror of his successor
in detail. After the false report of a bumper harvest, the cadres started a
campaign to collect the “hidden grain” from the peasants. As a result, a famine
broke out in the spring of 1959. The new Party secretary ordered the execution of
every person who tried to steal grain from the full grain stores.33 In order to prevent
a mass exodus to Guizhou province, peasants were tortured and beaten to
death. Wang Ding tells the reader nothing about his own position during the famine
and does not even mention the role of the central or the provincial government.
The retired cadre describes his successor as someone who was willing to
climb over mountains of corpses to build up socialism. As in the official version,
Wang presents local cadres as the major culprits, but he describes their “mistakes”
in detail. Unlike other memoirs, Wang here mentions the full name of
this main culprit, Zeng Yang. In 1961, Zeng Yang was expelled from the CCP
and sentenced to five years in prison.34
In contrast to the official Party historiography, Wang Ding broaches the issues
of starvation, terror and suffering in detail. He also answers the question of
responsibility within the official framework. As a local cadre, he presents another
32 Felix Wemheuer, Chinas Großer Sprung nach vorne, p. 93.
33 Wang Ding, “Yige da weiqing’ de muhou” (“The background of a great Sputnik”), in Zhang, Liu and
Zhang, The “Great Leap Forward” and China in the Period of Three Years of Difficulties, p. 58.
34 Ibid. p. 59.
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 183
county official as the main culprit for particular crimes. Wang himself is the good
guy in his story, because he was removed from office in 1957 for supporting the
household responsibility system (baochan daohu 包产到户).
Liang Zhiyuan’s memoirs are another example of an impressive description of
starvation and terror.35 He held the position of vice-director of the bureau of the
People’s Congress of Bo county in Anhui province. According to him, the famine
in Bo county was caused by false reports and unfeasibly high planning targets
and grain procurement quotas. Liang remembers how the cadres used hunger
as a weapon to control the peasants. The Party committee established check
points with armed militia at every bus station and crossroads to prevent the villagers
from escaping. Despite this control, over 40,000 peasants managed to flee
to Henan province in the winter of 1959. In 1960 the county Party committee
gave Liang the job of investigating the starvation in the production brigades.
He found that over 25 per cent of the members of the investigated brigade had
starved to death.36 In contrast to Wang Ding, Liang does not mention the
names of the culprits but uses XX. This is a conventional form in Chinese documents
when someone wants to make a case and present a model of wrongdoing,
but not make a formal accusation against an individual. In the end of his article,
Liang raises the question why so many people starved in Bo county when, at the
same time, neighbouring counties suffering from drought were still able to support
themselves.
Wang argues that the “quality” (suzhi素质) of the cadres from Bo was bad and
they committed serious mistakes during the implementation of policies from
above.37 Once again, local cadres have to play the role of scapegoats for particular
actions even in the narrative of their colleagues. “Quality” has been a term in
official rhetoric since the 1980s. The term is often used by the government to
emphasize the need for an improvement of moral values and education. In the
view of Liang, the Great Leap and the People’s Commune movement were
great mistakes for which “we” were punished with great economic loss and the
hunger of the masses. This means that the central government was responsible
for the wrong “grand strategy.” However, Liang says in the end that China
will become a rich, strong and democratic country under the leadership of the
theory of Deng Xiaoping and the “three represents” of Jiang Zemin. It is unclear
whether he really shows his loyalty to the central government or just uses that formal
phrase to satisfy the censors.
To sum up, in contrast to the memories of intellectuals, the peasants were not a
faceless mass in the memoirs of local cadres, but the suffering victims who
35 Liang Zhiyuan, “‘Dayuejin’ zai Anhui Bo xian” (“The ‘Great Leap Forward’ in Bo county in Anhui”),
Zhonggong dangshi ziliao, No. 75 (2000), pp. 5–31.
36 Ibid. p. 29.
37 For the discourse on “suzhi” see Rachel Murphy, “Turning peasants into modern Chinese citizens:
‘population quality’ discourse, demographic translation and primary education,” The China
Quarterly, No. 177 (2004), pp. 1–20, and Andy Kipnis, “Suzhi: a keyword approach,” The China
Quarterly, No. 186 (2006), pp. 295–313.
184 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
struggled for survival. They describe the terror and the human suffering of the
peasants in detail.
Henan Province: Avoiding Local Responsibility
In the context of the Great Leap Forward, Henan is a very interesting case,
because in 1958 the province was praised by the Party press as a model for the
whole of China. The first people’s commune was established in Suiping county
in Henan. In 1960, Henan was hit by one of the most serious famines in the
country. In the PRC, the history of a province has to be written within the framework
of national history. There are no Party resolutions for provincial history.
Local historians write their publications according to the canon of the central
government. There was significant variation in death rates in different areas of
China, but the official interpretation remains silent on why this was so. This
begs a serious question, for provinces like Henan and Xinyang in particular,
which had such high death rates that the starvation there prompted a change
in central government policy. While the natural population increase of China
fell to –4.57 (/1,000) in 1960, Henan lost 25.58 (/1,000) of its population. The
mortality rate of Henan in 1960 was higher than the national average (26.3 compared
to 25.4 per 1,000 population), but less than in provinces such as Anhui,
Guizhou or Qinghai.38 According to official figures the famine caused two
million deaths in Henan.39 Cao Shuji mentions 2,939,000 “irregular deaths”
based on the statistics of the county gazettes of Henan.40 Even at the county
level in Henan, the extent of the death rates varied very strikingly.41
The official provincial historiography continues to avoid the question of responsibility
for the Henan famine today. For example, the Gazettes of Henan Province
(shengzhi 省志), over 40 volumes, are written within the framework of national
Chinese history and the Party Resolution of 1981. Hundreds of pages of statistics
show the local conditions, but the authors do not compare these facts and statistics
with the national level. The reader has no way of knowing that the death and birth
rates of Henan show many more irregularities than in most other provinces, and of
course the question of who is responsible for these irregularities does not comeup at all.
The same is true of county gazettes (xianzhi 县志). In China, the county is a
bastion of the state bureaucracy and an important level for the implementation
of central policies in the villages. Every county has to write its own history within
the framework of the official canon. In the gazettes of the counties where I
38 Dali Yang, Calamity and Reform in China – State, Rural Society and Institutional Change since the Great
Leap Forward (Stanford: University Press of California, 1996), p. 38.
39 Zhang Linnan, “Guanyu fan Pan, Yang, Wang shijian” (“On the Anti-Pan, Yang, Wang incident”), in
Zhonggong Henan shengwei dangshi gongzuo weiyuanhui (ed.), Fengyu chunqiu – Pan Fusheng shiwen
jinian ji (Wind and Rain, Spring and Autumn – Poetry and Articles in the Memory of Pan Fusheng)
(Zhengzhou: Henan renmin chubanshe, 1993), p. 323.
40 Cao Shuji, Dajihuang – 1959–1961 nian de Zhongguo renkou (The Great Famine – The Population of
China from 1959 to 1961) (Hong Kong: Dangdai guoji chubanshe gongsi, 2005), p. 264.
41 Wemheuer, Steinnudeln, pp. 151–57.
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 185
conducted oral history interviews (Xin’an,42 Yiyang43 and Runan44), only a few
pages were written about the Great Leap Forward. The central government
orders the committees for local history to describe the “mistakes” after 1949
very briefly and without great detail.45 Even the death rates given in the county
gazettes are much lower than the internal statistics published by the provincial
government.46 The official national historiography and the formal responsibility
that is attributed to the central government provide a framework to prevent provincial
and county historians from raising the question as to who is primarily
responsible for the great extent of the famine in Henan.
In addition to the problem of how to explain the high death rates, the provincial
government and their historians in Henan had to decide how to evaluate the
power struggle between the inner Party factions of Pan Fusheng (潘复生, 1908–
80), the first Party secretary of the province, and Wu Zhipu (吴芝圃, 1906–67),
the second secretary. The province was established by a unification of Henan
and Pingyuan provinces in 1954, and the Party was divided in two factions:
the old Henan faction was led by Wu Zhi and the Pingyuan faction by Pan
Fusheng.47 Pan Fusheng, as first Party secretary of Henan, was labelled as a
“rightist” for his moderate agrarian policies in 1958. The violent campaign
against him and his followers in the autumn of 1958 left deep wounds within
the Party. His successor Wu Zhipu implemented the Great Leap Forward very
radically. At that time, Mao Zedong and the central government in Beijing supported
the faction of Wu Zhipu. The Henanese radicalism resulted in a catastrophe.
In the aftermath of the Great Leap Forward in 1962, the central
government tried to avoid a split by enforcing a compromise: Pan Fusheng
was rehabilitated, but Wu Zhipu was not officially criticized.48 Pan and Wu
were transferred out of Henan and a new leadership was put in place.
One option for the Party historians could have been to present Wu Zhipu as a
fanatical leftist who was responsible for the famine in Henan and Pan Fusheng as
the realistic and moderate agent of the real spirit of the Party. Such an option was
not possible in Henan, however, because of contradictions between the old
“Henan” faction and the “Pingyuan” faction in the Party which still existed
after the end of the Cultural Revolution. Furthermore, Pan Fusheng could not
be portrayed as the honest model cadre, because he supported the ultra-left
42 Xin’an difangshi zhi bianzuan weiyuanhui (ed.), Xin’an xianzhi (Gazette of Xin’an County) (Zhengzhou:
Henan renmin chubanshe, 1989).
43 Yiyang xianzhi bianzuan weiyuanhui (ed.), Yiyang xianzhi (Gazette of Yiyang County) (Beijing: Sanlian
shudian, 1996).
44 Henansheng Runan xianzhi bianzuan weiyuanhui (ed.), Runan xianzhi (Gazette of Runan County)
(Zhengzhou: Zhongzhou guji chubanshe, 1997).
45 Vivian Wagner, “Erinnerungsverwaltung: die politische Instrumentalisierung von Staatsarchiven in der
VR China” (“The administration of memories: political instrumentalization of the state archives in the
PRC”), unpublished dissertation, University of Heidelberg, 2003, p. 471.
46 Henansheng tongjiju (ed.), Henan sheng renkou tongji ziliao huibian 1949–88 (Collection of Population
Statistics of Henan Province 1949–88) (Zhengzhou: 1989), pp. 556–617.
47 Interview with a Party historian from Henan, 5 August 2005 (Zhengzhou).
48 Wind and Rain, Spring and Autumn, p. 290.
186 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
during the Cultural Revolution when he was a leader of Heilongjiang province.
As a result, in provincial Party historiography, both leaders were portrayed as
good Marxist-Leninists and revolutionaries and the Provincial Committee for
Party History published memory volumes on them.49 In the volume about Wu
Zhipu, his responsibility for the campaigns against Pan and thousands of other
Party cadres is not even mentioned. This solution might be very unsatisfying
for the cadres who were victimized by the leadership of Wu Zhipu in 1958, but
it helped to avoid discussing the responsibility of the provincial leadership.
Local Cadres and the Responsibility for the “Xinyang Incident”
In addition to the evaluation of factionalism, the Party historians had also to
come to terms with the so-called “Xinyang Incident” and the question of responsibility.
“Incident” is the official label for mass starvation which took place in
Xinyang district in the south of Henan between the spring of 1959 and the winter
of 1960. One historian who had access to the provincial archive said that over two
million peasants starved and were beaten to death in this area.50 The district had
only ten million inhabitants before the outbreak of the famine. Like Henan province,
Xinyang became famous as a model in China in 1958. After false reports of
a record harvest, the state even purchased the peasants’ grain rations and seed
grain.51 The local government, which was supported by Wu Zhipu, blockaded
the region in an attempt to prevent anyone from leaving. In 1961 the central government
sent the PLA to dismiss the Xinyang leadership. After the dismissal of
Lu Xianwen as the leader of the Xinyang region in late 1960, thousands of
local cadres were arrested and punished for the Xinyang Incident. However,
the new leadership did not accuse them of leftist tendencies, but attacked them
for the restoration of landlord rule.52 The new leaders ordered “extra tuition in
the democratic revolution” (minzhu geming buke 民主革命补课). Mao Zedong
supported this interpretation,53 because he could not believe that the crimes of
the Xinyang Incident were committed by people who had implemented recent
Party policies correctly. This label had catastrophic ramifications for the punished
cadres because they were not rehabilitated. The Red Guards even struggled
against Lu Xianwen as a rightist during the Cultural Revolution.54
49 Ibid.; Zhonggong Henan shengwei dangshi gongzuo weiyuanhui (ed.), Jinian Wu Zhipu wenji (Collected
Works in Memory of Wu Zhipu) (Beijing: Zhongyang dangshi chubanshe, 1995).
50 Interview with a Party historian from Henan, 5 August 2005 (Zhengzhou).
51 Hu Tiyun and Hou Zhiying, Dangdai Henan jianshi 1949–1998 (Short History of Modern Henan 1949–
1998) (Beijing: Dangdai Zhongguo chubanshe, 1999), p. 136.
52 Zhonghua renmin gongheguo guojia nongye weiyuanhui bangongting (ed.), “Zhonggong zhongyang dui
Xinyang diwei guanyu zhengfeng zhengshe yundong he shengchang jiuzai gongzuo qingkuang de baogao
de pizhi,” Nongye jitihua zhongyao wenjian huibian (A Collection of Important Documents Regarding the
Collectivization of Agriculture) (Beijing: Zhongyang dangxiao chubanshe, 1981), Vol. 2, p. 423.
53 Gao Hua, “Da zaihuang yu siqing yundong de qiyuan” (“The great famine and the origins of the four
clean up movement”), 2000, http://www.usc.cuhk.edu.hk/wkgb.asp.
54 Li Rui, “‘Xinyang shijian’ jiqi jiaoxun” (“The lessons of the ‘Xinyang Incident’”), Yanhuang chunqiu,
No. 4 (2002), p. 21.
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 187
Today, the official interpretation of the Xinyang Incident is given within the
framework of the leftism of the local leadership. As in the official historiography,
the local cadres were made scapegoats.55 However, in most of the Chinese books
on the Great Leap Forward the event is not even mentioned. In written memoirs,
retired local cadres from Henan have challenged the views of the provincial Party
historiography. Their treatment as scapegoats, especially for the Xinyang Incident,
has caused deep dissatisfaction. Unlike the narratives of Wang Ding or Liang
Zhiyuan, cadres from Xinyang are questioning the official evaluation of the famine
rather than blaming individual cadres for misguided implementation.
As an example, Zhang Shufan, who held the position of vice-secretary of the
bureau of the Party committee in Xinyang, raised the question of whether the
local famine should be called the “Xinyang Incident” or “Henan Incident.”56
This implicitly means that the provincial leadership under Wu Zhipu has primary
responsibility for it rather than the leader of the region, Lu Xianwen. In his memoirs,
Lu Xianwen is an ignorant and heartless leader who tried to hide the fact
that hundreds of thousand peasants were starving in Xinyang, but he was
shielded by Wu Zhipu. Zhang explains that he demanded the opening of the
grain stores because he did not want to take personal responsibility for starvation.
Because of his suggestion, Lu Xianwen suspended him from work until
early 1960.
Zhang Shufan quotes from a conversation which took place between Wu
Zhipu, Tao Zhu, the Party secretary of the central south region, and himself
after the People’s Liberation Army had changed the government of Xinyang in
1961. According to his memoirs Wu said to him: “Comrade Zhang Shu, the
Party committee of the province did not know in the beginning that the
Xinyang region had problems. I heard that you and Lu Xianwen had different
opinions. Why did you not tell me about it? Maybe the problem had not become
that serious.” Zhang replied: “Comrade Wu, how can you say that the Party
committee of the province did not know about it. Wasn’t the criticism organized
by you?”57 Tao Zhu both inferred and stated that everyone was aware that the
criticism against Zhang was wrong, but now he has been rehabilitated he should
not speak about the topic again. This story shows that Zhang is deeply dissatisfied
that Wu Zhipu was not punished and that the central government saw his
rehabilitation as ending the debate about responsibility.
In his article Zhang also doubts the sense of the rectification movement of
1961. All the secretaries working for the Party committees of the cities and counties
were expelled from the Party and 200,000 local cadres were educated by
“special treatment.” When he saw that soldiers chained up cadres and dismissed
them, he began to cry, asking himself how all these cadres could be
55 Regarding the “Xinyang Incident” see Becker, Hungry Ghosts – China’s Secret Famine, p. 112.
56 Zhang Shufan, “Xinyang shijian: yige chentong de lishi jiaoxun” (“The Xinyang incident: bitter lessons
from history”), Bainian chao, No. 12 (1998), p. 44.
57 Ibid. p. 43.
188 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
counterrevolutionaries. After the establishment of the new leadership, he was criticized
again for his objections to the punishment of his colleagues. Zhang still
hopes today that history will bring justice to the cadres of Xinyang in the end.
He ends his article with the statement that the people of Henan kept Pan
Fusheng in good memory, but not Wu Zhipu. This statement opposes the official
history of the province. Zhang is unhappy that Wu was never punished and he
sees his own rehabilitation in 1962 for his criticism during the Great Leap as a
way to force him to be silent about the responsibility of the leadership of Henan.
One of the most shocking articles published in the PRC is the memoir of She
Dehong, a retired cadre from the municipality of Xinyang. He writes that despite
the fact that the masses were deeply dissatisfied, nobody dares to make their own
comments against the background of the official evaluation of the Xinyang
Incident, even though it lacks accurate details.58 In contrast to the memories of
Zhang Shufan, She Dehong describes the starvation in detail. On a trip back
to his home village in December 1959, he saw a mountain of over 100 corpses.
After he arrived, he realized that half his family had starved to death. In nearly
every village in Huaibin county, cannibalism took place.59 After he came back
from his home village, he was afraid to tell the truth to his supervisors because
he would be struggled against. The higher-ranking cadres could even beat him
to death and suicide would have been treated as a confession of guilt. It seems
that She Dehong has to justify his silence about the starvation – even to himself –
to this day. He wants to make the reader understand that it was very dangerous
to speak about the starvation during the famine.
In the spring of 1960, nutrition in the public mess halls improved somewhat.
The corpses began to smell horribly, but people recovered enough strength to
bury them. In order to cover up the extent of the starvation, the local government
decided to dig mass graves with over 100 corpses in them.60 She Dedong estimates
that the grain in the grain stores of Xinyang was enough to feed 8 million
peasants with a ration of 400 grams per day. If the government had opened the
grain stores, nobody would have starved.61
Even though She Dehong does not directly attack the official evaluation of Wu
Zhipu, he finds that the punishment of thousands of local cadres in the rectification
campaign of 1961 was not fair. He is deeply upset that so many peasants
starved to death. Thus although these local cadre accounts differ in their
emphases and particular content, in aggregate they bring the suffering, starvation
and terror of the Great Leap Famine to the discourse, because they have family
connections in the villages and saw it with their own eyes. They are unhappy with
the scapegoating of local cadres, especially in Xinyang, and are particularly
58 She Dehong, “Guanyu ‘Xinyang shijian’ de yishu” (“Memories of the ‘Xinyang Incident’”), in
Zhongguo nongcunyanjiu bianji weiyuanhui (ed.), Zhongguo nongcun yanjiu 2002 quan (Bejing:
Zhongguo shehui kexue chubanshe, 2003), p. 325.
59 Ibid. p. 329.
60 Ibid. p. 330.
61 Ibid. p. 331.
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 189
unhappy because thousands were labelled as counterrevolutionaries rather than
mere “leftists.” Even 50 years after the event, retired cadres feel the need to
express their own views of the famine and challenge the official evaluation of
the responsibility in Henan.
Responsibility in the Memories of the Villagers
In order to access the memories of the villagers, I went to four villages in Henan
in February and July 2005 and conducted oral history interviews with over 25
peasants and cadres who are now over 65 years old and who would have been
teenagers or adults during the famine. I visited two villages in Xin’an county
near Luoyang in the west of Henan and conducted research in the county
archives. The third village is located in Yiyang county. In summer 2005 I went
to Judong, a village in Runan county which was under the administration of
Xinyang during the famine.62 While in Xin’an and Yiyang county the death
rates were relatively low, according to the memories of the villagers in Runan
county, half the population starved to death. This article focuses only on the
role the question of responsibility plays in the memories of the villagers.
All in all, the language of the villagers, cadres and peasants is not influenced by
official Party historiography as strongly as the urban intellectuals. Keywords of
the official historiography – such as communism, “three years of natural disaster,”
left-wing radicalism or utopian socialism – did not play any role in the memories
of the old villagers. In contrast, young villagers who helped me to find
interviewees were often influenced by the official school text books. The former
cadre Chen Chuwu remembered the Great Leap Forward as nothing but working
in the fields and on the construction sites day and night.63 Nobody remembered
any utopian euphoric mood in 1958. While official historians blame peasant egalitarianism
as one of the origins of leftist policies,64 the villagers see themselves as
victims of the Communist Party and its policies. When I asked the peasant Li
Zhuru, who was 17 years old in 1958, whether he had been willing to join the
People’s Commune, it seemed to him to be a strange question. He answered:
“If you were willing or not, you just had to join.”65 Nobody presented himself
or herself as a former supporter of Mao Zedong and his movements which
seem to be senseless today. Li Zhuru even called the whole Mao era a “waste
of labour and money” (laomin shangcai 劳民伤财). Against this backdrop of
total repudiation of the Mao era, everyone could avoid the question of their
own responsibility. Most of my interviewees lost their belief in Mao Zedong
during the famine. However, the central state played no important role in the
memories of the villagers.
62 All names of persons and villages are pseudonyms.
63 Interview with Chen Chuwu, 12 February 2005 (Baotou, Xin’an county, Henan).
64 Bo Yibo, Reflections on Certain Major Decisions and Events, Vol. 2, p. 1285.
65 Interview with Li Zhuru, 12 February 2005 (Baotou, Xin’an county, Henan).
190 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
Stealing unripened grain (chi qing 吃青) and eating things like grass were the
survival strategies of the peasants. In the mountain area in the west of Henan
there was even a black market providing expensive food. The villagers see themselves
as active victims, because they had their own survival strategies during the
famine. In this context, the question of personal responsibility is relevant, because
stealing or running away harmed other people. Statements like, “everybody was a
thief, even the children” or “everybody just took care of himself,”66 demonstrate
that these survival strategies were widely accepted under the circumstances of the
famine. In the village Judong in Runan county, the men from the production
team fled to Qinghai province in 1959 and left their parents, wives and children
alone at home. According to the memories of the villagers, most of the children
and the elderly starved to death. In 1961 in Qinghai, after the news that private
plots had been reintroduced and the famine was over, the men went back to
Judong. In interviews, the women did not blame the men for running away.
Against the experience of the co-operated exodus, cadres and peasants presented
themselves as a united community in their memories.
In Judong, the villagers talked openly about cannibalism. Even the peasants
who fled to Qinghai province heard rumours about cannibalism in Guangshan
county in the Xinyang region. The student Zhang Xueli asked Wu Tiancheng,
the former leader of the production team: “At that time people ate the corpses
of people who had been starved before. Is that correct?” Wu answered: “Yes,
corpses. At that time the people had no choice.”67 Wu did not morally condemn
cannibalism. Everyone in Judong heard about it, but nobody confessed his or her
own involvement or mentioned names of people who did it. In doing so, nobody
in particular could be blamed for these terrible events.
The cadres I interviewed did not deny their power and privileges during the
famine. For example, Li Pengkui became the Party secretary of the production
brigade in 1958. Even in the beginning he spoke out that the peasants were starving
and a lot of them got dropsy. Li said: “At that time a cadre was like an
emperor. You could be struggled against anytime he wanted. If he wanted you
to sweep the street, you had to do it. I was the Party secretary of the brigade ….
The few thousand people in the village were under my command.”68 He said
he was privileged (shenghuo te shuhua 生活特殊化), because the cadres managed
the food in the public mess halls, the financial budget and the work point system.
As a result, they could use hunger as a weapon. Li ordered even peasants with
dropsy to work in the fields. In spite of the fact that he had so much power,
he did not accept any personal responsibility for harming the hungry peasants
or even raise the question of it. Today, Li believes that the Communist Party
betrayed him as a loyal follower, because he did get any pension. On the
66 Ibid.
67 Interview with Wu Tianchen, August 2005 (Judong, Runan county, Henan).
68 Interview with Li Pengkui, 11 February 2005 (Baotou, Xin’an county, Henan).
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 191
contrary, he presents himself as a victim. He regrets his dedication to the CCP,
but he feels no personal guilt for his actions against the peasants.
In Henan, beatings and torture were aspects of daily life at the struggle meetings
during the Great Leap Forward. Peasants and cadres told frightening stories
about this political terror, but in most cases they did not mention any names of
particular cadres. In the interviews, retired village cadres and children of former
“rightists” criticized Mao Zedong and the Communist Party, but still tried to
maintain harmony within the village. While the cadres show sympathy for the
grievances of the “bad elements” and their children, the former outcasts of the
village do not blame them. The memories of cadres, peasants, men and women
had so much in common that I treat the rural neighbourhood in the natural villages
as one united collective memory.
While the villagers believe that the central government was responsible for the
famine, they did not demand an apology or compensation, but they are conscious
of moral responsibility for the famine. Peasants were able to remember the power
struggle between Wu Zhipu and Pan Fusheng which led to a radicalization of
the Great Leap in Henan, but it does not seem to be important for them.
Things are more complicated when it comes to assigning responsibility for
the Xinyang Incident. Most of the villagers I interviewed had heard about the
Xinyang Incident and the mass starvation, even in the counties close to
Luoyang. In the aftermath of the famine, local cadres who joined an investigation
team told their neighbors in Baotao about mountains of crops on the streets in
the Xinyang region. The peasants outside Xinyang used a comparison with the
“Incident” to explain that the situation of their villages was not that bad.69
For the villagers in Judong which was under the administration of Xinyang
during the famine, it was unclear who should be blamed. The young peasant
woman Xuemei even asked me: “Who was responsible for the ‘Xinyang
Incident’?”70 The old cadre Li Minghu who was a manager of a public mess
hall in 1958 said that Mao Zedong and the central government did not know
about the mass starvation in Xinyang.71 Li was the only interviewee who referred
to the legend of the good emperor and the evil local officials. The villagers
remembered that the leader of the region, Lu Xianwen, was responsible for
false reports in 1959, but they did not know that the Party secretary of their
own county was sent to prison in 1961. The power struggle in the county leadership
had no connection with their daily life.
The narrative of villagers differs from the official historiography in a striking
way, but they share one thing in common. At the moment, neither the villagers
nor the state want to raise the question of responsibility for particular crimes or
actions. The memories are constructed in a way which saves the harmony in the
villages.
69 Interview with Li Bin, 12 February 2005 (Baotou, Xin’an county, Henan).
70 Interview with Huang Xuemei, 8 August 2005 (Judong, Runan county, Henan).
71 Interview with Li Minghu, 9 August 2005 (Judong, Runan county, Henan).
192 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194
Disconnected Discourses and the Hegemony of the CCP
In the PRC, different discourses about the responsibility for the Great Leap famine
have developed. The memories of urban intellectuals are close to the official
interpretation which tries to avoid the debate through the acknowledgment of the
formal responsibility of the central government. In Henan, the dissatisfaction felt
by local cadres with their role as scapegoats challenges the official memories.
Local cadres from other regions blame colleagues for the excesses of the Great
Leap. These cadres bring sensitive topics like starvation and cannibalism to the
discourse. Local cadres from Henan raise the question of the moral and legal
responsibility of the provincial government and Wu Zhipu. The collective memories
in the villages included suffering and the privileges of the local cadres during
the famine. The memories of the villagers are not influenced by the explanations
of the official interpretation, things such as leftism or bad weather. The peasants
see themselves as active victims who managed to survive.
Neither the state nor members of society want to discuss their own responsibility
for any particular actions. At the same time, the official interpretation of
responsibility which had been defined in the Resolution of 1981 fails to give a
convincing answer to the question of responsibility; final judgements remain elusive.
The discourses about the Great Leap are unlinked and have no connection
with each other. As long as there is no link between the discussions of urban intellectuals,
dissatisfied local cadres and the rural communities as a source for memories
of starvation, the official interpretation will not lose its hegemonic position.
In her research about the memories of the Cultural Revolution, Susanne
Weigelin-Schwiedrzik, has discussed a phenomenon she calls “fragmented memories.”
She has pointed out that in different groups and factions of the Red
Guard, rebels could remember their own suffering and see themselves as victims.
72 Regarding the Great Leap, the memories are fragmented as well. This
leads to the question of which social and political factors could explain these
phenomena.
An objective reason for the disconnected discourses is the legacy of the dual
society (eryuan shehui 二元社会) in China.73 During the Mao era, urban and
rural society was divided by the household registration system (hukou 户口)
which forced the peasants to stay in their villages. These walls between cities
and villages continue to exist in the minds of the Chinese people. I have seen
that many intellectuals are not interested in the problems of the peasants. In
the system of dual society, peasants had no access to the public space. In present-
72 Susanne Weigelin-Schwiedrzik, “In search of a master narrative for 20th-century Chinese history,”
The China Quarterly, No. 188 (2006), p. 1072. Regarding “fragmented memories” see also Lee and
Yang, Re-envisioning the Chinese Revolution, p. 5.
73 Regarding the separation between rural and urban society see Sulamith Heins Potter, “The position of
peasants in modern China’s social order,” Modern China, Vol. 9, No. 4. (1983), and Tiejun Cheng and
Mark Selden Cheek, “The construction of spatial hierarchies: China’s hukou and danwei system,” in
Timothy Cheek and Tony Saich (eds.), New Perspectives on State Socialism in China (London: M.E.
Sharpe, 1999), pp. 23–50.
Dealing with Responsibility for the Great Leap Famine 193
day China, state-controlled labour union, businessmen’s or artists’ organizations
were founded, but no peasant associations. Furthermore, the hierarchical structure
of the Leninist Party does not require that high-ranking cadres in Beijing
take the memories of local cadres from Henan seriously and understand them
as part of a discourse about national history. Most historians of the counties
in Henan accepted the official interpretation, because under this paradigm they
can avoid discussing the responsibility that local governments might have for
the famine.
The gap between urban and rural society also forms part of the large gap
between the state and villages. In my interviews, even cadres of the rural townships
believe they are not a part of the countryside.74 My field study points out
that archival documents written by county officials and memories of the peasants
focus on different topics. Peasant strategies of survival, such as stealing unripened
grain in the field, the so-called eating green, are hardly mentioned in the archival
documents. On the one hand, professional historians in China have learned to
focus on the leadership, not on the peasants. On the other, the official interpretation
of the Great Leap has not reached the minds of the older villagers who
experienced the famine. Urban intellectuals and historians are often not aware
that collective memories of the famine continue to exist in rural communities.
These might be the reasons why the memories and discourse about the famine
are disconnected.
Moreover, there is no other event in post-1949 history that challenges the legitimacy
of the CCP at such a high degree; the fact that millions of peasants starved
in New China is a terrible shame. In the memories of the villagers, the famine is
not an isolated event, but often linked to other disastrous experiences such as the
Cultural Revolution or the corruption of today.75 If intellectuals are looking for
an ally to overcome Party rule, they could start to transmit the memories of the
peasants into the public space and use the famine as an argument against the rule
of the CCP.
Museums for the victims could be built, something which Kang Jian had
already demanded in 1998.76 Forty years after the event it is difficult to clarify
the legal responsibility for the famine. The last leading cadre of the central government
who was in office during the Great Leap Forward, Deng Xiaoping, died
in 1997, and most of the local cadres who tortured and murdered people during
the famine have already died or are very elderly. Investigations into what exactly
happened in the countryside would bring conflicts to every rural community.
It currently seems as though peasants and cadres try to avoid trouble. But should
there be political polarization, memories of the suffering in the past and anger
about the present could become an explosive mixture.
74 Interview with Huang Liang, 12 February 2005 (Wangcun, Yiyang county, Henan).
75 Wemheuer, Steinnudeln, pp. 230–32.
76 Kang Jian, Huihuan de huanmie –Renmingongshe de jingshilu (The Glorious Disillusion – Warning about
the People’s Commune) (Beijing: Zhongguo shehui chubanshe, 1998), p. 558.
194 The China Quarterly, 201, March 2010, pp. 176–194

Peasants and Revolutionary Movements: The Viet Cong as a Case Study

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Corresponding author:
Tal Tovy
Email: tovytal@bezeqint.net
War in History
17(2) 217–230
© The Author(s) 2010
Reprints and permission: sagepub.
co.uk/journalsPermissions.nav
DOI: 10.1177/0968344509357125
http://wih.sagepub.com
Peasants and Revolutionary
Movements: The Viet Cong
as a Case Study
Tal Tovy
Abstract
During the Vietnam War the US government in conjunction with the government of
South Vietnam instituted a plan encouraging desertion from the Viet Cong and the
‘return to the embrace of the Vietnamese Nation’. A successful implementation of this
plan, the Chieu Hoi (‘Open Arms’) Program, depended on an analysis of the motivations
for enlistment in the Viet Cong. The voluminous research on the Viet Cong during
the war concentrates on its structure and activities rather than on the patterns of
enlistment in and desertion from it. An examination of the factors that led to enlistment
in or desertion from the Viet Cong may provide better indications concerning the
extent of the United States’ perception of the nature and character of the war. The
purpose of this article is to examine peasant motivations for enlistment in the Viet
Cong. The study begins with a discussion of theories regarding peasant motivation for
joining revolutionary movements. It continues with an analysis of Vietnamese society
which provides the necessary basis for understanding peasant motivation for joining
the Viet Cong. Finally, the article discusses the reasons for peasant desertion from
the organization and comes to the conclusion that motivation for enlistment was not
ideological (i.e. Communist) in nature.
Keywords
Chieu Hoi Program, counterinsurgency, psychological warfare, revolutionary movements,
Viet Cong, Vietnam War
During the Vietnam War the US government in conjunction with the government of
South Vietnam instituted a plan encouraging desertion from the Viet Cong and the
‘return to the embrace of the Vietnamese Nation’. A successful implementation of
this plan, the Chieu Hoi (‘Open Arms’) Program (CHP), depended on an analysis of
the motivations for enlistment in the Viet Cong. The voluminous research on the Viet
218 War in History 17(2)
Cong during the war concentrates on its structure and activities rather than on the
patterns of enlistment in and desertion from it. An examination of the factors that led
to enlistment in or desertion from the Viet Cong may provide better indications concerning
the extent of the United States’ perception of the nature and character of the war.
The purpose of this article is to examine peasant motivations for enlistment in the Viet
Cong. The study begins with a discussion of theories regarding peasant motivation for joining
revolutionary movements. It continues with an analysis of Vietnamese society which
provides the necessary basis for understanding peasant motivation for joining the Viet
Cong. Finally, the article discusses the reasons for peasant desertion from the organization
and comes to the conclusion that motivation for enlistment was not ideological (i.e.
Communist) in nature.
The sources utilized here include sociological and anthropological studies of
Vietnamese society conducted during the war. Although often commissioned by the
American army, these studies do not reflect prevailing operational concepts, but are comprehensive
academic attempts to understand and represent Vietnamese society.1
An exploration of Vietnamese peasant motivations for enlisting in the Viet Cong is
crucial to the understanding of the organization since it drew its strength from this
population, provided it with shelter and food, and recruited its personnel from it. It is
historical fact that the Viet Cong received much of its supply via the Ho Chi Minh
Trail, but the manpower of the organization came from the local population of South
Vietnam. According to Maoist doctrine, revolutionary wars require the active assistance
of a small percentage of the population and the passive support of most of it,
especially its agrarian component. In the Vietnamese case agrarian support was even
more important, given that the Viet Cong was a self-proclaimed agrarian movement.
However, being a political, ideological, and secular revolutionary movement, the Viet
Cong had to adapt its methods for the benefit of the peasants.2 The need to do so grew
from the understanding that the guerrilla fighter is totally dependent on the agrarian
environment in which he endeavours to wage war and must therefore earn the favour of
the peasantry. ‘Peasants are to the Guerilla’, Mao stated, ‘as water is to fish’.3 This orientation
sometimes gives the impression of a conflict between rural and urban societies.
But control over rural areas is the first phase in achieving control over the whole country.
1 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program: Revised Final Report, vol. 2, The Viet
Cong: Organizational, Politics and Psychological Strengths and Weaknesses (Cambridge, MA,
1967), appendix A, U.S. National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, MD,
Records of the United States Forces in South East Asia, 1950–1975 (RG 472), CORDS INFO.
LIB. files, box 3, file no. 101026; R.C. Kriegel, Vietnamese Attitudes and Behavior Related to
Management Problems of the Revolutionary Development Program (Washington, DC, 1969).
The most important book about the Viet Cong is D. Pike, Viet Cong: The Organization and
Techniques of the National Liberation Front of South Vietnam, (Cambridge, MA, 1966). See
also G.C. Hickey, Village in Vietnam (New Haven, 1964).
2 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2, p. 81.
3 Mao Tse-tung, On Guerrilla Warfare, tr. S.B. Griffith (New York, 2005), p. 93. See also
R. Desai and H. Eckstein, ‘Insurgency: The Transformation of Peasant Rebellion’, World
Politics XLII (1990), pp. 442–43.
Tal Tovy 219
I. Peasants and Revolutionary Movements: A Short Theoretical
and Historical Analysis
Researchers differ regarding the factors that have led agrarian societies to revolt against
central governments and join revolutionary movements, but agree that the ultimate peasant
goal has been an improvement in the economic, political, and social standard of living.
Yet such studies have resorted to western concepts, such as capitalism, socialism or
Communism, when investigating behavioural patterns of developing agrarian societies.
This methodological difficulty becomes clearer through studies showing that the peasants
did not share a coherent ideology but rather adopted one ideology or another according
to circumstances.
One school of thought examining the factors leading to peasant revolts argues that
political unrest in rural society evolves from the destruction of traditional society by
capitalism arriving in conjunction with colonialism (moral economy). Another school
holds that these revolts stem from the destruction of traditional political classes and precapitalistic
patron–client relations (political economy). Both schools assume that the
social pressure stems from the dramatic changes imposed on traditional societies. Rural
society in general, and that of South-East Asia in particular, is characterized by a system
of rights and obligations regulating relations between individuals and between them and
society. Once the delicate balance enabling this system is upset, society is forced to
search for an alternative system, or in other words – to revolt.4
The combination of both models may be illustrated through the 1930 Vietnamese
revolt. The integration of the Vietnamese economy into the world economy through the
French colonial system linked their fates. The economic crisis of the 1930s, which caused
world markets to fall, led to a dramatic drop in the price of rice in Vietnam and resulted
in a widespread rural revolt (1930–31). White argues that the Vietnamese peasantry
attempted to combat the modernization process imposed by France. However, the fight
required aid from external forces, nationalist as well as Communist,5 mainly the national
movement fighting to free Vietnam from French imperialism. A direct link was thereby
established between urban Communism and rural circles; but the part played by the
Communist Party in this revolt remains unclear, since the revolt was traditional rather
than national Communist in character, as was the case in China and in Russia.6
Protest in Vietnam was spontaneous and was instigated by food shortages. The
Communist Party leadership in the 1930s was essentially orthodox in adopting Marxism-
Leninism verbatim, believing that a Communist revolution relied on the urban proletariat.
This understanding notwithstanding, a certain level of cooperation existed between the
4 S.E. Guggenheim and R.P. Weller, ‘Introduction: Moral Economy, Capitalism, and State
Power in Rural Protest’, in S.E. Guggenheim and R.P. Weller, eds, Power and Protest in the
Countryside: Studies of Rural Unrest in Asia, Europe, and Latin America (Durham, 1982),
pp. 3–5.
5 C.P. White, ‘The Peasant and the Party in the Vietnamese Revolution’, in D.B. Miller, ed.,
Peasant and Politics: Grass Roots Reaction to Change in Asia (New York, 1979), p. 21.
6 T.L. Brown, War and Aftermath in Vietnam (London and New York, 1991), p. 22.
220 War in History 17(2)
urban Communist leadership and the rural revolt.7 Although France easily suppressed the
revolt, it was nonetheless important to the development of the struggle in Vietnam.
It proved to the Communist leadership that the peasantry was more reliable than the urban
proletariat. Moreover, it resulted in the transfer of the political, and later military, centre
of gravity from the French-occupied cities to the rural areas. Political cadres, often local
residents, began appearing in the villages preaching Communist teachings. Attempts to
convey the philosophical-political essence of Communism were soon rejected in favour
of simplified ideas and a continuous emphasis on tradition. Peasants were told that joining
Communism meant fighting French colonialism, abolishing large estates, and promoting
agrarian reform. In other words, the Communists promised political autonomy
and ownership of land. They explained the basic tenets of Communism (Xa hoi hoa)
through the central traditional concept Xa, denoting the connection between men and
land. The verb hoa denotes heavenly authority over the land through man, and the word
hoi means unification. Taken as a whole, the term denotes heavenly sanctified socialism
as a unification of man and land.8
This revolt shows that the peasants had set out both to defend their traditional way of
life and to improve their economic situation.
II. Rural Vietnamese Society: A Sociological Perspective
Three traditional circles influenced the life of the Vietnamese peasant:9 family, village,
and religion. Of these, the familial circle held the greatest significance: it was this circle
that ultimately influenced a decision to join or defect from the Viet Cong.
Vietnamese society is based on Confucian philosophy, at the root of which is the understanding
that society is harmonic but at the same time hierarchic and unequal.10 The smallest
unit in Confucian society is the family, which maintains a strict gender- and age-based
hierarchy. Women are subordinate to men, and children must obey their elders. The nuclear
family is the primal and often only socioeconomic and religious basis of Vietnamese society.
Concepts such as nationalism and nationality are foreign to Vietnamese peasants, since
their allegiance is first and foremost to the family.11 The United States estimated that as
many as one third of the peasants loyal to the government had relatives in the Viet Cong
and would not provide information that could harm them.12 The Viet Cong was subject to
similar restrictions when demanding loyalty, and had to resort to various methods such as
taming Vietnamese tradition to the ideological revolutionary struggle.
7 Op. cit., pp. 23–25.
8 White, ‘Peasant and the Party’, p. 26; E.R. Wolf, Peasant Wars in the Twentieth Century (New
York, 1969), p. 189.
9 Evidence about the traditions in the Vietnamese society can be found in N.B. Nguyen, ed., A
Thousand Years of Vietnamese Poetry (New York, 1975), pp. 40–64.
10 Pike, Viet Cong, pp. 2–3.
11 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2, pp. 82, 84–85.
12 Op. cit., p. 84.
Tal Tovy 221
The next level of loyalty of the Vietnamese peasants is accorded to the village. Most
Vietnamese live in rural areas, and their connection to the land is represented in mysticalreligious
terms.13 At the head of the village stands the village elder, who is usually the
eldest or richest of the village folk, thus further demonstrating Confucian hierarchy. A
village council consisting of village elders assists him and holds political and judicial
power.14 The village operates as a cooperative unit maintaining familial autonomy, while
allowing social services to assist peasants in financial difficulties.15 Owing to geographical
conditions and the lack of convenient road networks, villages are essentially economically
and socially autonomous. Indeed, the traditional Vietnamese village has a
measure of self-rule because of its relative isolation from imperial centres of government
(the city Hue) or the centres of French government (in Saigon and Hanoi). Outsiders are
considered foreigners and are not easily accepted into villages’ intimate circles, so much
so that their deaths went unmentioned in after-action reports detailing village casualties.
When none of the villagers was killed, no casualties were reported.16 This attitude is
basically xenophobic in nature, but ironically it applies to Vietnamese nationals as well.17
The third circle of allegiance for the Vietnamese peasant is religion. Vietnamese religion
combines Buddhism and the familial worship of forefathers. Here too the family retains its
prominent position, and every home designates a place of prayer to the gods and altars for the
family ancestors.18 Most Vietnamese peasants are Buddhists, while most of the urban population
is Catholic.19 This demographic and religious difference is another significant element in
the village–city conflict, and had influence on the struggle in South Vietnam.20 The village–
city conflict was fuelled by three additional factors, both traditional and modern:
1. cities signify the seat of foreign rule with which the local rural leadership was
always at odds
2. Northern Vietnamese Catholic refugees were a significant percentage of the
rural population after 1954, and supported the French and the South Vietnamese
governments
3. the city’s western orientation and its modernization were the antithesis of the ethics
and traditions of rural Vietnam.
The Vietnamese peasantry lived according to an ancient traditional code. The geographical
distance from the cities and from centres of government, where most of the political
13 Pike, Viet Cong, p. 109.
14 See also: S.L. Popkin, The Rational Peasant: The Political Economy of Rural Society in
Vietnam (Berkeley, 1979), p. 36; D. Pike, War, Peace, and the Viet Cong (Cambridge, MA,
1969), pp. 66, 68.
15 Pike, Viet Cong, p. 6; Popkin, Rational Peasant, pp. 35–36.
16 Kriegel, Vietnamese Attitudes, pp. 11–12.
17 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2, p. 95; Kriegel, Vietnamese
Attitudes, p. 33. On xenophobia in Vietnamese society, see also Pike, Viet Cong, p. 2.
18 Hickey, Village in Vietnam, p. 120.
19 C.A. Mortland, ‘Vietnamese Tribespeople’, in T.L. Gall, ed., Encyclopedia of Culture and
Daily Life, vol. 3, Asia and Oceania (New York, 1998), p. 814.
20 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2, p. 92.
222 War in History 17(2)
activity was concentrated, effectively ensured that ideas such as nationalism and political-
economic ideologies would remain foreign to the peasant. How then did it come to
pass that Vietnamese peasants joined a modern revolutionary movement? The basic
approach of Vietnamese peasantry was ‘live and let live’. They expected no dramatic
change in their way or quality of life, and endeavoured to live a traditional life based on
the rice culture. Peasants did not seek adventure, preferring financial security for their
family within the community.21 The Viet Cong knew how to use the Vietnamese tradition
as means for achieving its own goals. But by no means can we argue that the conflict
was between the Viet Cong as a rural movement against the South Vietnamese
urban government.
Although many men were coerced to join the organization and it was not above resorting
to terrorist methods, peasant soldiers still fought effectively for a cause not their own.
Moreover, even the means of coercion were afforded by the traditional system. The attitude
of the Viet Cong toward the rural population was dialectic. Basically, the Viet Cong
relied on the support of the population, even a passive support, and would return in kind
when such support was provided. Opposition to the organization or support of the South
Vietnamese or American governments resulted in cruel measures, and would often end
in executions. Nevertheless, enlistment in the organization was translated into traditional
concepts, and even included an adoption of the Vietnamese familial model. Political
cadres presented themselves as the fathers of the Vietnamese nation or as its teachers.
These cadres were often older individuals, while the pool of potential recruits included
the younger generation. The relationship was therefore based on fear and respect, in
accordance with Vietnamese tradition.22 Terrorism was organized, planned, and exercised
only against individuals, and rarely used as means for collective punishment.
Punishment of peasants who had failed to support the Viet Cong was portrayed as the
reprimand of a wayward son.23 The punishment itself was inflicted only after a trial was
held and the offences clarified for the benefit of the defendants and the villagers.
Punishments were explained through traditional rather than political-ideological concepts.
The crimes of condemned individuals were explained as potentially harmful to the
community rather than as reflections of political opposition to the Viet Cong. Also, individuals
collaborating with government forces were accused of an intention to harm peasants
through anti-traditional modernization.24 The basic Vietnamese perception of the
world was essentially simple and allowed for a perspective in black or white terms, good
or bad, and bad people must be punished.25
Some explanations offered in research concerning voluntary enlistment in the Viet Cong
hold that the organization was sensitive to rural traditions. The RAND research institution
discussed at length the issue of cooperation between Vietnamese peasantry and the Viet
Cong. According to one school, the Viet Cong succeeded in winning the hearts and minds of
the peasants by introducing a pacification programme. According to another school, terror
21 Kriegel, Vietnamese Attitudes, p. 7.
22 Op. cit., pp. 17–19.
23 On the punishment system in the Vietnamese family, see Hickey, Village in Vietnam, p. 111.
24 Pike, Viet Cong, p. 250.
25 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2, pp. 103–05.
Tal Tovy 223
was the primary, if not the only, reason peasants joined the Viet Cong. It is noteworthy that
these two schools preached in consecutive rather than simultaneous time-frames and reflected
internal changes within the RAND institute.26 However, historical phenomena usually occur
as a result of a multitude of factors, not one of which is ever exclusive.27 Russell Betts, who
basically combined the ideas of the two schools, offers a more complex interpretation.28 Betts
distinguishes between four courses of action employed by the peasants:
1. spontaneous political activity
2. independent action
3. coordinated and directed political activity
4. passive activity.
Betts argues that the third course of action best represents modern rural revolutions.
As opposed to the second model in which leadership develops from within the ranks
of the peasantry, in the third model peasants provide valuable resources, including
26 For the first school, see J.C. Donnell, G.J. Pauker and J.J. Zasloff, Viet Cong Motivation
and Morale in 1964: A Preliminary Report (Santa Monica, 1965), RG 472, CORDS INFO.
LIB. files, box 10, file no. 101121; J.C. Donnell, Viet Cong Recruitment: Why and How Men
Join (Santa Monica, 1967), RG 472, CORDS INFO. LIB. files, box 18, file no. 101212.
Donnell argued that the strength of the Viet Cong position within the peasantry stemmed
from the respect it demonstrated toward their traditions. The propaganda that followed did
not indoctrinate peasantry in the tenets of Communism but was rather directed toward the
military and the government. It stated that the latter failed to understand the spirit and the
essence of peasants and was fighting against them. For an additional study emphasizing
the break between the peasantry and the government, see N. Leites, The Viet Cong Style of
Politics (Santa Monica, 1969), RG 472, CORDS INFO. LIB. files, RG 472, box 8, file no.
101091. Leites held that the Vietnam War was not an economy-based class struggle, because
neighbouring regions suffered graver economic difficulties and did not rebel. He explained
that the war was a cultural struggle between traditional forces (peasantry) and progressive
forces (government) inadvertently injuring tradition. His thesis is problematic, because
Communists had in fact attempted to take over Laos, Cambodia, and even Thailand. Indeed,
agrarian-Communist uprisings had been suppressed shortly before the Vietnam War in the
Philippines and Malaya. For the second school, see L. Goure, Inducement and Deterrents of
Defection: An Analysis of the Motives of 125 Defectors (Santa Monica, 1968). This study will
be discussed further shortly. Another study argued that terror played a significant role in the
enlistment of peasantry in the Viet Cong: R.M. Pearce, The Insurgent Environment (Santa
Monica, 1969), RG 472, CORDS INFO. LIB. files, box 32, file no. 101392. Pearce argued
that the Viet Cong used terror and coercion to destroy the social fabric and isolate peasants
from their village and family.
27 It is unclear whether the transformation in the RAND attitude represented internal powergames
or a change in personnel.
28 R.H. Betts, Viet Cong Village Control: Some Observations on the Origin and Dynamics of
Modern Revolutionary War (Cambridge, MA, 1969), pp. 1–15. The first part of the study
offers a comprehensive theory explaining why peasants join revolutionary movements. The
second part examines its validity through the experience of a South Vietnamese village.
224 War in History 17(2)
supplies, manpower, information, and shelter, but are recruited by external forces.29
According to Betts, debates regarding motivations to join revolutionary movements
are irrelevant since external political forces lead the peasants. The combination of
both attitudes is reflected in the development of the relationship between the peasantry
and guerrilla forces.
Betts explains that the Viet Cong first adopted the traditional village models and
then took them over through various means, including terror. In addition, it appears
that peasants were often compelled to join the organization, and not only for the reasons
discussed hitherto. Also, if peasants joined the Viet Cong because of its sensitivity
to tradition, how does one account for the high desertion effected through the CHP?30
If rural commitment to the cause had been cemented on the basis of the organization’s
sensitivity to tradition, why then were desertion rates highest following the Tet offensive
and especially during 1969, when the organization desperately needed every man?
Moreover, it should be remembered that many peasants joined the South Vietnamese
army, and many served under US command in various militias. A significant percentage
of the deserters later joined organic US units through the Kit Carson Scout Program
(KCSP). Strengthening this reservation is the fact that Vietnamese society is not inherently
militant, and years of military struggles have not increased the number of violent
outbursts in rural areas to any significant degree. The professional soldier occupied one of
the bottom rungs of the Vietnamese social ladder. Nevertheless, the peasants who joined
the various fighting forces throughout Vietnamese history exhibited great personal courage.31
The Vietnamese had also been among the few who had successfully withstood the Mongol
onslaughts. Researchers at the various research institutions knew these facts.
In order to understand the success of the Viet Cong recruitment better, it is necessary
to examine the reasons that led to the eventual high rates of desertion.
III. Recruitment to the Viet Cong
Support of the Viet Cong was based on familial loyalty: it alone can explain why peasants
whose world revolved around the family and the rice paddy would risk all and join
the movement. These trends must be explained through traditional concepts and the
importance accorded to the family in Vietnamese society. Few peasants joined the movement
out of ideology, i.e. belief in the Communist way.32 Peasant support of the Viet
29 Op. cit., pp. 2–3. See also: T. Shanin, ‘The Peasantry As a Political Factor’, Sociological
Review XIV (1966), pp. 19–21.
30 It is assumed that more than 159 000 Vietnamese deserted between 1963 and 1973.
Regarding the programme, see C.D. Laurie, ‘Chieu Hoi’, in S.C. Tucker, ed., Encyclopedia
of the Vietnam War: A Political, Social, and Military History, vol. 1 (Santa Barbara, 1998),
p. 115.
31 Op. cit.; Kriegel, Vietnamese Attitudes, pp. 13 and 16. It is noteworthy that violence in general
and murder in particular are rare in this society. It offers great respect to women and shuns
physical disciplinary measures.
32 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2, p. 107.
Tal Tovy 225
Cong signified support of the Farmers’ Liberation Association (FLA), established by the
Viet Cong, which called for comprehensive agrarian reform.33 The guerrilla forces
offered economic opportunities for peasants and were therefore perceived as leaders of a
social revolution.34 Success of the revolution would improve the peasants’ economic
standing and turn them into landowners. Betts argues that peasants join revolutionary
movements in order to preserve their traditional way of life, which includes protection of
land and family from social, cultural, and economic changes. He adds that joining the
ranks of protest movements sometimes stemmed from a desire to improve the standard
of living.35 On the basis of this argument, one may maintain that the peasantry joined an
organization36 that was strong at the time (in both political and military terms) in the
hopes of preserving its way of life. This theory may explain the changes in peasantry
orientation, its lack of allegiance to one side, and the transference of its allegiance in
accordance with political and military developments in its immediate sphere. The preservation
of traditional institutions (family, village, land) may also entail an attempt to
improve the standard of living. Douglas Pike holds that the Vietnamese have no tradition
of allegiance to any one political power but rather confer it according to changes that
occur in its immediate sphere.37
Interviews of deserters from the Viet Cong through the CHP revealed that recruits
often followed in the footsteps of family members, essentially translating familial
allegiance into a political one. The rural tradition is based on allegiance to the leader
rather than to the movement, the ideology of which the peasant does not understand.
Thus, peasants joined the Viet Cong, or the government-sponsored militia, because
another family member had already done so. In addition, recruitment to the Viet
Cong also removed an existing Viet Cong threat to the very foundation of the family.38
Recruitment to both the Viet Cong and the state-sponsored militia was often dependent
upon the political-military situation in rural Vietnam. The peasants joined the
ranks of those who promised physical and economic security. Peasants often joined
the ranks of the organization that had first arrived in the village. Until 1965, joining
the Viet Cong and remaining close to the family was a better option than joining the
Army of the Republic of Vietnam, which had been suffering severe setbacks. In addition,
army recruits were often posted in faraway battlefields.39 Similar factors are
revealed in the discussion of female recruitment to the Viet Cong, as is demonstrated
33 The FLA was established in accordance with the teachings of Mao, who believed that
peasants were the driving force of the Communist revolution. However, since the peasants
were ignorant of Communism, a body was formed to enforce discipline. Pike, Viet Cong, pp.
167–72.
34 Op. cit., p. 166; N. Leites and C. Wolf, Rebellion and Authority: An Analytic Essay on
Insurgent Conflict (Chicago, 1970), pp. 41–45.
35 Betts, Viet Cong Village Control, p. 7.
36 The terms ‘body’ and ‘organization’ refer both to the Viet Cong and the forces of the South
Vietnamese or US governments.
37 Pike, Viet Cong, p. 10.
38 Op. cit., pp. 107–09. See also the story of one fighter who enlisted after his mother had been
threatened: op. cit., p. 106. See also Kriegel, Vietnamese Attitudes, pp. 20 and 30.
39 Pike, Viet Cong, pp. 111, 113–15.
226 War in History 17(2)
in Sandra Taylor’s study of Vietnamese women during the war. She argues that
female recruits were quite young (15–17), and joined the movement not out of ideological
conviction but rather for personal reasons and because they wished to protect
their families.40
A contemporary ARPA study lists additional reasons believed by Americans to have
led to peasantry enlistment in the Viet Cong.41 These reasons include personal problems
within the familial circle and difficulties arising from relations with the village authorities.
Also, peasants whose fields were situated in territories held by the Viet Cong joined
the organization in order to protect their financial interests; these actions reinforced the
Viet Cong claim that joining the organization protected peasant interests. Some peasants
joined the organization wishing to avenge the death of a family member killed by the
government or by forces allied to it. A 1967 study stated that revenge against the South
Vietnamese government became more prevalent. Several individuals stated that they had
joined the Viet Cong since the French harmed their families, and they could now exact
their revenge. Hence, it is apparent that the governments of South Vietnam and the
United States were perceived as a continuation of French rule. The government was
perceived as a continuation of the hated (primarily for religious reasons) Diem regime,
which had itself been perceived as a substitute for the detested French colonialists.42
Thus a direct link was established between the South Vietnamese government and French
colonialism. Many peasants joined the Viet Cong after suffering at the hands of government
officials and military forces. It should be noted that these harsh sentiments directed
against the government and its allies (especially the United States) were further inflamed
by Viet Cong propaganda. The government was criticized for the killing of civilians.
Some peasants joined the ranks of the Viet Cong out of a sense of adventure. Also, the
younger generation realized that rural life offered little chance for self-realization and were
searching for alternatives, which the Viet Cong professed to afford. Research indicates that
Communist propaganda was translated into concepts familiar to the peasantry. Peasants did
not understand the essence of Communist theory, the struggle against capitalism, the class
struggle, or historical theories of Communism and socialism.43 A 1964 RAND study states
decisively that most recruits failed to understand the essence of Communism. Interviewees
stated that political cadres’ authority was accepted because of Confucian tradition rather than
through ideological conviction. Even educated deserters interviewed by RAND researchers
were unable to detail the essence of socialist and Communist teachings.44 Researchers concluded
that Communism was perceived to promise an improvement in the standard of living
40 S.C. Taylor, Vietnamese Women at War: Fighting for Ho Chi Minh and the Revolution
(Lawrence, 1999), p. 75.
41 Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2, pp. 115–20.
42 Op. cit., pp. 118–19.
43 Pool found similar reasons when he discussed enlistment of senior cadres. I. de S. Pool,
‘Political Alternatives to the Viet Cong’, Asian Survey VII (1967), pp. 555–57. These include
a desire for economic and social mobility, national sentiments, enlistment of another family
member, and physical or economic suffering at the hands of imperialists, be they French or
their successors. Other studies report similar findings.
44 Donnell et al., Viet Cong Motivation, pp. 35–38.
Tal Tovy 227
and to provide economic welfare through its demand for comprehensive agrarian reform and
provision of land to the peasantry. Class struggle was understood to denote a struggle against
estate holders living in the cities and identified with the central government.45
Kriegel and Pike argue that peasants also joined the Viet Cong out of nationalist
reasons. The Vietnamese sought a unification of the north and the south. However, this
motivation was not based on Communist doctrine but rather on the long history of
Vietnam as a nation. Cultural Vietnamese elements such as language, poetry, literature,
music, and drama were more important than any political ideology or agenda. Kriegel
maintains that this nationalist spirit had combined economic, social, and political elements
in the struggle against French colonialism. Viet Cong propaganda depicted the
South Vietnamese government as a political body opposed to Vietnamese unification.46
These conclusions were based on hundreds of interviews conducted with CHP-related
deserters, prisoners, and refugees.
IV. Desertion from the Viet Cong
In order to enhance the understanding of factors leading to enlistment in the Viet Cong,
one should also examine the factors leading to desertion from it. As will be demonstrated
shortly, desertion from the organization stemmed partially from the understanding
that fighting for the Viet Cong would not solve issues that had led to enlistment.
What then were the reasons for desertion? Two studies conducted by the RAND institute
were devoted to this issue.47 These studies are based on interviews of deserters, as
well as on Viet Cong documents captured in US military operations. It appears that the
conclusions are based primarily on the former and that the researchers believed that the
interviewees were representative of the deserters in general, a group comprising guerrilla
fighters, officers (up to battalion level), political cadres, and civilians who supported
the organization.
Most deserters offered multiple reasons for desertion, all of which are detailed in
these studies. The figures below represent the number of individuals who professed to
have deserted for various reasons. A brief examination of the figures indicates that motivation
for desertion stemmed primarily from personal rather than ideological motivation.
The personal reasons included fear of death, food shortages, sleep deprivation, weather
conditions and natural disasters, diseases and primitive medical care, and the constant
moves, which prohibited contact with the family.48 Deserters ranked highly knowledge
that a family member’s enlistment had upset the family’s economic capacities. This
implied decreasing income due to the narrowing of workforce, heavy taxation by the Viet
Cong, and the latter’s inability to support the families of recruits financially. Deserters
45 Op. cit., p. 122.
46 Kriegel, Vietnamese Attitudes, pp. 14–15; Pike, Viet Cong, pp. 2 and 100.
47 J.M. Carrier and C.H. Thompson, Viet Cong Motivation and Morale: The Special Case of
Chieu Hoi (Santa Monica, 1966), RG 472, CORDS INFO. LIB. files, box 4, file no. 101043
(hereafter: RAND 1966); Goure, Inducement (hereafter: RAND 1968).
48 RAND 1966: 48%; RAND 1968: 50%.
228 War in History 17(2)
also explained desertion in terms of missing their families.49 So long as service in the
Viet Cong allowed peasants to remain close to home they did not feel compelled to desert
since they could support their families during the day and don the uniform at night.
Motivation for desertion increased when, as a result of intensive US/South Vietnamese
military operations, Viet Cong units were forced to travel further away to seek shelter.50
The contact with home suffered also when villages were relocated to secure zones, and
this resulted in higher desertion rates.
Fear of death was more prominent for those who had experienced American fire-power
capacity, especially aerial bombing.51 A combination of the 1966 RAND study figures –
‘fear of war’ (20%), ‘fear of American power’ (11%), and ‘defeat in battle’ (3%) – indicates
that over one third of the interviewees deserted because of fear of war. According to the
1968 RAND study, this figure had increased to 47%.52 Many interviewees noted that the
Viet Cong could never hope to defeat the economic, political, and military power of the
South Vietnamese army, supported as it was by endless masses of American equipment,
weapons, and personnel. In both studies personal reasons and interests ranked
high among motivations for desertions.53 The 1968 study notes that 18% of the interviewees
deserted after concluding that they could derive no further personal or economic
benefit from service in the Viet Cong. This argument is reinforced by the fact
that many of the interviewees professed to have heard of the CHP before enlisting in
the Viet Cong, which had at the time been stronger than the South Vietnamese forces.
The organization’s perceived inability to match American military power had resulted
in desertion.54
The political climate in South Vietnam had a negligible influence on desertion. In
addition, few people professed to have deserted because they had been recruited forcefully.
55 Similarly, other ideological reasons were ranked low and were usually professed
by individuals carrying higher military and political ranks. The common soldier rarely
cited an ideological motivation for desertion. This is reinforced by the claim made by
some deserters that criticism or punishment by political cadres led them to desert.56
Many interviewees said that the numerous hours of indoctrination classes robbed them
of their freedom, and that the Communist models contradicted their own belief system.57
The motivation for desertion in this case was based on social rather than on political
differences. Moreover, deserters witnessed a rise in the standard of living for their families
49 RAND 1966: 18%; RAND 1968: 20%.
50 RAND 1968, pp. 32–33.
51 Op. cit., p. 37.
52 Interestingly, fear of US fire-power led many Iraqis to desert during the Gulf War, and
generally affected their morale and desire to fight. See Department of Defense, Conduct of
the Persian Gulf War: Final Report to Congress (Washington, DC, 1992), p. 536.
53 RAND 1966, p. 34; RAND 1968, p. 37.
54 RAND 1966, p. 82.
55 RAND 1966: 14%; RAND 1968: 7%.
56 RAND 1966: 22%; RAND 1968: 28%
57 RAND 1966, p. 37. See also Improving Effectiveness of the Chieu Hoi Program, vol. 2,
pp. 172–73.
Tal Tovy 229
as a result of the pacification programme instituted by the South Vietnamese government
in conjunction with American military and civilian agencies.58
According to these studies, desertion was the result of a process rather than a spontaneous
decision, but they cannot provide a concrete time-frame for the process because the
Vietnamese do not subscribe to the western concept of time.59 The process of desertion was
tightly connected with information concerning the CHP. A Viet Cong fighter deserted
only after studying the government plan with the assistance of several (perceived) reliable
sources. Though many had heard of the programme they had difficulty believing it was
not some kind of trick, and that the price for desertion would not actually be jail time or
a firing squad. And yet individuals who had decided to leave the organization did not
return to the village but transferred their loyalty to government forces through CHP centres.
The aforementioned reliable sources for a potential deserter included his family and family
members who had gone through the process and could verify that living standards were
indeed being raised.60 Here too one may see the importance of the family to the process
of the individual’s decision-making. The significance of the family is further demonstrated
by the decision-making process of those who decided not to desert or postponed the
action itself, because they feared the price for their actions would be exacted on their
families. Some people deserted only once their families had been relocated to secure
government areas protected by South Vietnamese or US forces.61
The studies indicate that the motivations for desertion prevalent in 1966 remained
essentially unaltered in 1968. The most significant difference between the two periods is
found in the increase in desertion due to fear of death.62 This difference is easily explained,
as the latter study was conducted following the Tet offensive in which the Viet Cong had
suffered such debilitating blows that it no longer presented a political-military threat to
South Vietnam. Regular North Vietnamese forces using guerrilla tactics took its place.
Most of the political cadres hailed from North Vietnam. Nevertheless, as demonstrated
above, the combination of several military-related factors (defeat, death of a friend, aerial
bombing) draws the figures of the 1966 study closer to those of the 1968 study.
V. Conclusion
This article has focused on motivations for Vietnamese peasants’ enlistment in and desertion
from the Viet Cong. Peasants that had deserted did not return to their villages but
stayed in government centres for varying periods of time. A significant number of deserters
underwent a dramatic change in orientation and enlisted in the South Vietnamese
army or even the US Army.
It is difficult to explain these developments in terms of ideological motivations. The
argument according to which desertion was a result of forced recruitment does not
58 RAND 1966, p. 40.
59 See Kriegel, Vietnamese Attitudes, pp. 23–24.
60 RAND 1968, pp. 21, 26.
61 RAND 1966, pp. 49–56; RAND 1968, p. 18.
62 In the 1966 study, 20%, versus 43% in the 1968 study.
230 War in History 17(2)
account for the fact that these individuals chose to do so through the CHP and often even
to fight their former comrades in the ranks of the KCSP.
The use of traditional models, however, may provide a more comprehensive explanation
for the reasons Vietnamese peasants chose to enlist in or desert from the Viet Cong.
An analysis of the Vietnamese peasant ethos, mainly the desire to improve their standard
of living, accounts for this phenomenon. Although many deserters noted the devastating
effects of American fire-power as one of their primary motivations for desertion,
economic reasons were significant too, and often no less significant. Peasants enlisted in
the Viet Cong believing it could provide the changes they desired as a result of its military
primacy at that time and in that place.
Once their unit had suffered defeat, its material conditions deteriorated and the peasants
began receiving information on the economic benefits afforded through the CHP,
they no longer felt committed to the Viet Cong and deserted to the organization which
provided better financial benefits. This dynamic may explain also desertion from the
ranks of the South Vietnamese army back to the Viet Cong.
Changing military fortunes also accounted for the shifting of the Vietnamese peasant
between sides. US military documents reveal cases where peasants deserted from the
Viet Cong several times, a situation easily explained by their motivation to improve their
socio-economic standing.
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May 1, 2010

Saigon’s Fall, 35 Years Later

Filed under: Uncategorized — ktetaichinh @ 2:44 am
Tags: , , ,

Philadelphia

DEPENDING on which side you were on, Saigon either fell on April 30, 1975, or it was liberated. Inside Vietnam, the day is marked as Liberation Day — but outside, among the Vietnamese refugees, it is called Deep Resentment Day. (The resentment is not just over losing a war, but also a country.)

On April 21, 1975, I was 11 and living in Saigon. I turned on the television and saw our president, Nguyen Van Thieu. He had a high forehead, a sign of intelligence, and long ears, indicating longevity. He had a round face with a well-defined jaw — the face of a leader — unlike his main rival, Nguyen Cao Ky, who resembled a cricket with a mustache. Thieu said, “At the time of the peace agreement the United States agreed to replace equipment on a one-by-one basis, but the United States did not keep its word. Is an American’s word reliable these days?”

Growing up in Saigon, I did not witness the war, only its apparatus: tanks, jeeps, jets. I often heard the rhythmic, out-of-breath phuoc phuoc phuoc of chopper blades rotating overhead. As it did for many Americans, the war came to me mainly through the news media. Open a newspaper and you would see Vietcong corpses lying in disarray. Turn on the radio and you could hear how our side was winning. Saigon theaters even showed American movies of World War II. Saigonese could sit in air-conditioning and watch expensively staged war scenes.

We considered the VC little more than a nightmare, a rumor, a bogeyman for scaring children. Once, in Saigon’s Phu Lam neighborhood, I saw four blindfolded men standing on a military truck, but there was no way to tell if they were really VC. If someone took a bad photo, you said, “You look just like a VC!” Only after April 30, 1975, did Saigonese realize there were plenty of VC among them.

Before the government fell, my father arranged for me and my brother to flee the country with a Chinese family. He sent his secretary along to take care of us. This secretary was 22, Chinese, with a very short temper, her face round and puffy. Sister Ha, as I called her, would later become my stepmother.

Before I left, my father gave me $2,000, saying, “Two thousand bucks should last you a year.” American bills, I noticed, were less colorful than Vietnamese ones, though longer and crisper. After sewing the money into the hem of my blue shorts, made of rayon and extremely hot, my grandmother advised, “Whatever you do, don’t take these shorts off.”

Before boarding the plane, I stayed at an American compound for four days. On the evening of April 27, I got on a C-130 to fly to Guam. Sitting next to Sister Ha, I watched a kid eat raw instant noodles. When the plane landed, it was pitch dark. No one knew a thing about Guam; we knew only that we had left Vietnam behind.

Linh Dinh is the author of the forthcoming novel “Love Like Hate.”

Vietnam Pushes for More Trade and Regional Engagement 35 Years After US Departure

It has been 35 years since North Vietnamese forces took over the capital of what was then South Vietnam, ending a long and bloody war with the United States.  Today, a unified Vietnam is focused on free market economic reforms, while maintaining its communist political system.  That presents roadblocks to closer ties and more trade with its onetime enemy – the United States.

These days, Vietnam is more concerned with dollars and cents than with war and peace.  Trade and economic issues dominate the concerns of the government.  And they dominate the relationship between Vietnam and the United States.

But it has not been an easy road for Vietnam since 1975.  Not only did it have to rebuild after the war with the U.S., but it also had to deal with a changing world in which its main sponsor, the Soviet Union, collapsed and the communist political system it fostered largely disappeared.

Frederick Brown of the Johns Hopkins University’s School of Advanced International Studies in Washington says Vietnam had little choice but to adapt.

“With the imminent fall of the Soviet Union and Eurocommunism in 1986, Vietnam really came to a crossroads,” said Frederick Brown. “It had to abandon the Marxist economic model.  And that was done in the Sixth Party Congress of 1986.  That was the beginning of an extraordinary evolution that has proceeded until today.”

The reforms, known as doi moi, were adopted at a Vietnamese Communist Party Congress in 1986.  Like its communist neighbor to the north, China, Vietnam liberalized its economy and looked to wooing foreign direct investment, while maintaining a single-party state.  Political reform did not come with economic reform.

China’s evolution might have been an inspiration for Vietnam’s reforms.  But analysts say that China’s growing power has motivated Vietnam to reach out to the rest of Asia and the United States.

Ernest Bower, director of the Southeast Asia program at the Center for International and Strategic Studies in Washington, says Vietnam’s concerns about China were key to its entrance into the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, or ASEAN, in 1995 – the same year it normalized relations with the United States.

“Vietnam joined ASEAN because it believed ASEAN would be a significant group who could together oppose the pressure and the assertiveness of a growing and more engaged China,” said Ernest Bower. “And I think Vietnam has actually been a very strong member of ASEAN, surprising even its original members.”

Frederick Brown of The Johns hopkins University says trade is the cornerstone of U.S.-Vietnam relations.  But, he adds that growing Chinese influence has been a concern for Vietnam’s leaders as Hanoi tries to walk a thin line between China and the United States.

“For Vietnam, [there are] lots of difficulties with many of their own political cadres who are very concerned about the relationship with the United States,” said Frederick Brown. “[As] the old saying [goes], “[too close to China, you lose your country; too close to America, you may lose the [Communist] Party.'”

But human rights issues complicate Vietnam’s move toward closer ties with the United States, particularly its desire for special treatment in trade and other economic ties.

Vietnam’s efforts to attract more foreign investment have also been hampered by internal bureaucratic hurdles and corruption.  Analyst Ernest Bower says the most egregious corruption has been curbed, but the problem persists.

“Major corruption has been significantly put back in the box because the [Communist] Party sees that large-scale corruption was a risk to the Party’s very survival,” he said. “But there’s still a lot of bureaucratic red tape.  It’s still very hard to get deals done in Vietnam.  You’ve got to go through a lot of steps.  And smaller scale corruption is still sort of endemic, and it’s a problem.”

The Vietnamese government recently initiated a program to help wipe out corruption.  Called “Project 30,” it holds ministers accountable for streamlining administrative procedures and increasing transparency.

Key dates in VN-US relation

April 30, 2010

An Interview with Pham Van Dong Monday, Nov. 11, 1985

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Vietnamese Premier Pham Van Dong, 80, met with the Time Newstour in Hanoi’s French colonial-style Chu Tich Phu presidential palace. Dressed formally in a black, high-collared suit that accentuated his bronze features and high-combed silver hair, Pham took questions for more than an hour in a large, red- carpeted receiving hall, under a huge bust of his mentor, Ho Chi Minh. Throughout the session, Pham lived up to his reputation for haughty intractability, flashing anger at some questions, receiving others with a scornful laugh. He also showed an intransigent commitment to maintaining his country’s doctrinaire Marxist course.

Yet 10 1/2 years after its Communist revolution, Viet Nam finds itself in desperate need of Western trade and economic aid. Perhaps for that reason, the Hanoi government has begun a series of conciliatory moves. Among them are increasingly specific hints that a negotiated end may be possible to Viet Nam’s military occupation of Kampuchea, formerly Cambodia. Additionally, a top official says that this month Hanoi will begin to disinter the remains of U.S. servicemen listed as missing in action since the Viet Nam War. Despite such concessions, however, Pham’s country faces an array of diplomatic problems, including China’s continuing hostility and U.S. unease over the Soviet naval presence at Cam Ranh Bay. Excerpts from the interview:

Q. If Viet Nam leaves Kampuchea and the MIA problem is resolved, could relations with the U.S. be restored?

A. From the bottom of our hearts we stress our desire to have good relations with the U.S. I have to tell you that the potential appeared as early as 1945. That was a lost, golden chance. Then, later, there were chances to establish relations between the two countries, but again they were chances that you missed. For our part, we are willing. On your part, it is up to you. We think that good relations with the U.S. are not only in our own interests but in the interests of the U.S. as well.

Q. Would one of the advantages of closer U.S. ties be a reduced dependence on the Soviet Union?

A. Why should you be concerned about that? This is our own affair, and you have been told that this does not constitute an obstacle. You may think that I am joking. No, I am serious.

Q. If you were a U.S. President, what would you tell your people to help heal the wounds between our two countries?

A. Viet Nam has left tragic wounds on the U.S. But the U.S. half destroyed Viet Nam. The Americans came to this land when they were not invited. The Americans did here something that cannot be tolerated by people of conscience. That is why I would say that the Americans are morally and materially responsible for Viet Nam. People of conscience are always responsible.

But it is we who moved first to heal the wounds, and the U.S. should do something to that end too. Trade, investment and education are all areas we are interested in. There may be others as well. We consider national economic development our prime task today. We are prepared to develop economic relations with all the countries of the world. The door is open. Why don’t you come in?

Q. But if you were an American leader, how would you feel about the Soviet presence in Cam Ranh Bay?

A. If I were in the White House, I would take this as something normal.

Q. Your system is based on the Soviet Union’s, yet most of the countries around you are not socialist, and they have advanced economically much faster than Viet Nam. Are you not willing to reconsider your socialist model?

A. We have chosen the path, the best path to advance. I would like to bet you that by the year 2000, you will see it. It will be even more visible by the year 2200. For us, meeting the needs of the people is the most important task. We have but to mobilize the people, energy and brains to carry this out.

I’d like to share a story with you. A girl of ten approached me recently and handed me a bunch of flowers. I asked her, “What do you want to do when you are an adult?” She said, “I want to be a cosmonaut.” That is how our children are. The Vietnamese children have great prospects before them. They will certainly do better than what we have done. And when they are adults, they will have better relations with American children than we have had. (Laughs heartily.)

Q. Under what circumstances will your presence in Kampuchea be ended?

A. We have stated our political position very explicitly. In the near future, the Kampuchean issue will be resolved. A political solution will take place. If you wait, this will come one day. It may come earlier than expected.

Q. Must a settlement in Kampuchea be preceded by a dissolution of the Khmer Rouge (the Communist element of anti-Vietnamese resistance)?

A. We have never said so, but in reality it will happen that way because the Kampuchean people themselves will sweep away the remnants of (former Khmer Rouge Leader) Pol Pot. Then the Kampuchean people will no longer need us, and we will no longer need to stay in Kampuchea.

Q. Is Viet Nam conducting secret talks with the People’s Republic of China aimed at improving relations?

A. We would like to resume talks with China because normalization of relations is beneficial to both countries. But I have to tell you that as of this day, China has not shown any goodwill.

Q. What do you consider to be the single greatest danger that your country faces?

A. I don’t think there is any hazard or danger that makes us overanxious. We are prepared to deal with any possibility or eventuality. Our history has proved this.

April 28, 2010

Thirty Five Years After The War, Betrayal is Vietnam’s Story

Filed under: Uncategorized — ktetaichinh @ 10:41 pm
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HANOI – A headline in a local paper here seems to say it all: “The Main Method is to Use Love.” The story: Women and Children trafficking activities along the Vietnam- China border.

One of these “love methods” went something like this: A man from the city seduced a young woman from a village, then took her across the border to China after their wedding. When they got there, the honeymoon turned into a slave trade: the groom sold his naïve bride to a brothel, then promptly disappeared.

Or it can be “familial love method:” The destitute widow whose farmer husband died in an accident decided to sell her daughter. What the daughter thought was going to be a shopping trip across the border to China to buy new clothes turned instead into a nightmare. The young woman was sold into a brothel and eventually resold to an old man as a child bride.

In both cases, the victims were undone by loyalty and love. For them the central theme that defines their lives is, inevitably, betrayal.

But betrayal is not simply the story of trafficked women and children, which has reached epidemic proportions. In a sense, it has become the story of Vietnam itself. Empires rose and fell, colonizers came and went, civil wars fought, and lives and lands devastated, but that central theme of being tricked, of being betrayed, continues to frame the history of this country.

There are, of course, many kinds of betrayals. Thirty-five years ago, the South Vietnamese Army (ARVN) was abandoned by the United States and its arms supplies dwindled to a few bullets per soldier at the end of the war, while the northern Communist tanks came rolling southward.

Yet, betrayal is not restricted to those who lost the war. It plays itself out with even deeper irony among those who supposedly won. The Viet Cong –- guerillas in the National Liberation Front based in the South –- quickly found that they did not exactly “win” when Saigon fell. Within months, their units were dissolved or integrated under Hanoi commands, their own southern leadership forced into retirement. Though, of all factions, they suffered the highest casualties, the Viet Cong found themselves losing their autonomy and ending up playing underlings to northern leadership.

But many northern communist officials themselves were not saved from being betrayed either. Among a handful of well-known dissidents in exile is Colonel Bui Tin, the highest-ranking officer from Hanoi to enter Saigon at the end of the war to accept South Vietnam’s official surrender. Tin, as it turned out, fled Vietnam to France a decade or so later. The cause: he was dismayed with peacetime Communism in which re-education camps and new economic zones were created to punish the south, while untold numbers died out at sea as boat people. It was not what he’d expected when the North was trying to “liberate” the South from the Americans during the war. Tins’ books, “Following Ho Chi Minh: Memoirs of a North Vietnamese,” and “From Enemy To Friend: A North Vietnamese Perspective on the War,” became a powerful testimony of Vietnamese corruption and arrogance, coupled with a passionate plea for democracy.

And even Ho Chi Minh, father of Vietnam’s Communism, it turned out, wasn’t safe from betrayal either. According to a few in Vietnam who knew the inner working of the party, Uncle Ho apparently spent the last few years of his life under house arrest, his lover murdered and children taken away from him. It is what the novelist Duong Thu Huong, now living in exile, wrote about in her latest book, “Au Zénith,” a novel based on the unofficial history of Ho Chi Minh’s last years. Huong herself knew betrayal intimately. Once a member of the youth brigade in the Communist movement, she later was under house arrest for her books criticizing Communism, especially in “Paradise of the Blind.” Government officials called her “traitor slut.”

Vietnam in the present tense is a Vietnam at the far end of Orwell’s dystopia, as parodied in Animal Farm, where “all animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others.” Corruption is rampant, and according to Asia Times Online, “land transfers have become critical issues in Vietnam. Some observers predict that, as in China, questionable state land reclamations could lead to widespread social unrest and derail Vietnam’s socioeconomic development.”

While Marxist Leninist theory is still being taught in schools and colleges, the poor farmers are often driven off their land for a pittance of compensation so that the rich and powerful can have their golf clubs. While impoverished women and children in rural areas are now commodities to be sold across the borders, often with the help of local officers, the city glints with new wealth, and high rises continue to sprout like mushrooms.

One needs not look far to see it in Saigon. Billboard advertising for Chanel perfume and Versace bags are now overshadowing all the old Communist slogans romanticizing laborers and farmers and socialist paradise. Massage parlors are but a stone’s throw away from Ho Chi Minh’s cheerful bust in downtown Saigon, a city that’s renamed rather inappropriately after a man who championed austerity.

One recent evening out in the new part of Saigon’s district 7, at the ultra chic 3-storied restaurant called Cham Charm – built to resemble Angkor Wat with black granite and flowing water running down both sides of the sleek staircase –- there were Mercedeses and Lexuses and even a Ferrari and a Rolls Royce or two dropping by with paparazzi snapping photos at the entrance. It was the famed singer Hong Nhung’s birthday and wealthy friends -– mostly those connected to the current regime – were throwing a private party for her. Champagne flowed, wines were poured, and a splendid spread of oyster and sushi and lobster were served to a guest list of 350 VIPs. At one point, Nhung called her “comrades” to join her on stage, many of whom are now either multi-millionaires themselves, or married to them. Together they sang a Communist propaganda song –- something about marching to respond to the call of their nation. While waiters in bow ties served champagne, the projector showed images of Nhung’s past: A youth in Communist uniform, singing. No one sang songs about betrayal at the golden gala, of course, but still one could cut the irony with a silver spoon.

Not far from the gala, one aged musician in his ramshackle apartment said he was profoundly bitter: “Xa Hoi Chu Nghia (Socialist Republic) has turned into Co hoi chu nghia – (the society of opportunists.)” He once knew Uncle Ho and served him with devotion but now, in failing health, had become a vocal critic of the Hanoi regime. He is especially pained that Vietnam three years ago had ceded land to China along its northern border and even signed a multibillion dollar deal to plunder Lam Dong province, its once pristine verdant slopes for bauxite, destroying the ecosystem in the process.

More worrisome, the disputed Spratly Islands have fallen into China’s hand as well, leaving Vietnam’s waters vulnerable to Chinese domination. Rare mass protests in Vietnam have taken place but to no avail. “The government officials are corrupted to the core,” the aged musician observed. “All they bow down to is money. I wore my uniform and went out and protested. I’m sad to watch the government deceive its people year after year. If you give away land to China, you might as well sell the blood of the people.”

Which may explain why, in a world whose motto is “to make money is glorious,” and whose moral compass is thereby broken, children could be sold by their mothers, wives sold by their husbands, precious land on which precious blood spilled sold by the government.

It would follow that in such a world those who hold on to old virtues suffer the most. It was reported that the girl who was sold by her mother, when rescued, said she didn’t blame her. She was willing to suffer for the family’s sake, she told social workers. And the patriotic old musician, once an idealist, now cries in his sleep. And the exiled dissidents watch in dismay as Vietnam is swallowed up by materialism.

The rest are rushing ahead at breakneck speed. Because to survive in Vietnam, so goes a new law of the land, one must first and foremost learn to betray the past.

NAM editor, Andrew Lam, is the author of Perfume Dreams: Reflections on the Vietnamese Diaspora and the upcoming memoir: East Eats West: Writing in Two Hemispheres due out in September. He recently visited his homeland, Vietnam.

Related stories

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Why I’m Working as a Saigon Massage Girl

April 26, 2010

Communists imprisoned him in Vietnam; now in York, his family flourishes

Filed under: Uncategorized — ktetaichinh @ 3:18 am
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By WADE MALCOLM
Daily Record/Sunday News

Updated: 04/24/2010 10:55:21 PM EDT

When Saigon fell, Duong Huynh, standing at center, didn’t know if he’d see his family again. Now he’s surrounded by family in York, as during this dinner at his son’s restaurant. (DAILY RECORD/SUNDAY NEWS – KATE PENN)
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Duong Huynh, 70, of Springettsbury Township smiles as he looks at a flower decoration at the Vietnamese Alliance Church in North York. The banner above celebrates the Asian New Year. (DAILY RECORD/SUNDAY NEWS – PAUL KUEHNEL)

// 0){
document.getElementById(‘articleViewerGroup’).style.width = requestedWidth + “px”;
document.getElementById(‘articleViewerGroup’).style.margin = “0px 0px 10px 10px”;
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// ]]>Saigon had fallen. The Americans had left. And in the summer of 1975, Duong Huynh received a letter.

It instructed him to report to a government office near his home in southcentral Vietnam.

It did not say why.

An employee of the fallen government, he feared defying the Communist regime. So he left his wife and seven children in their small farming village.

It would be eight years before he saw them again.

In prison, but alive

Many wives built altars to their husbands, mourning their deaths. Huynh’s wife, Thuoc, refused. She believed he was alive.

Supporters and workers of the defeated South Vietnamese government disappeared by the hundreds. Many were executed. The rest were sent to “re-education” camps.

Huynh worked in a tax office before the war. The communists imprisoned him for being a “high official.” When he and others arrived at the Xuan Loc camp, they first had to build the barracks that would be their prison.

About 60 people shared each enclosure, leaving enough room for every person to have a bunk the size of a coffin. After three years, the communists allowed him to write a letter to his wife. He could not say where he was or even give hints about the climate or surroundings. He wrote that he was alive. Everything was OK.

Thuoc screamed with joy when the letter arrived. She ran from house to house in their neighborhood yelling, “My husband is alive! My husband is alive!”

The years added up, and Huynh said he and the other prisoners stayed connected to the outside world via a tiny radio. They disassembled it during the day and hid the pieces from the guards and reassembled it at night. One man — usually with a good memory — would listen with the volume low and repeat what he heard to the others.

One day in 1979, they heard something that gave them hope — a BBC News update: Several nations planned to meet to discuss the plight Vietnamese political prisoners.

Ultimately, the prisoners were freed.

Feelings

The south Vietnamese government sent Huynh to New Jersey for technical and language training in 1970. Huynh experienced America and learned to speak English. After the Vietnamese civil war, Huynh was charged as a “high government official” and imprisoned by the new communist government. (SUBMITTED)

of guilt

When Huynh returned home from prison in 1983, he felt he had let his family down, even though it was beyond his control.

Huynh knew prisoners whose wives remarried. Despite the hardship of not having a man of the house, his wife did not. Instead, she kept the family together, and they struggled to survive. His children worked from noon to sunset after attending school in the morning, barely making passing grades. They were emaciated.

The situation depressed and disgusted him, making him ornery and unapproachable.

“I treated my children very badly,” he said. “There was a lot of pressure on me. … I felt guilty. I couldn’t take care of them the way I wanted.”

Stern, distant fathers are the norm in Vietnam, a

Joseph Huynh, 9, chats with his grandfather Duong Huynh at a family outing in March. (DAILY RECORD/SUNDAY NEWS – KATE PENN)

profoundly paternalistic society, said Huynh’s son, Lee. He does not blame his father for his behavior after returning from prison. He knew of other ex-prisoners who were far worse, sliding into addiction or black market rackets.A new start

Huynh and his family came to America in 1992 after waiting several years for Vietnamese political prisoners to be granted refugee status by the United States.

They bounced from city to city for a couple of years, looking for work. Lee heard from a friend about work opportunities in York. Soon, Huynh was crammed into a West College Avenue row house with 12 other refugees and working at the nearby Dentsply factory.

Meeting in each other’s homes, Huynh and about a half dozen other families formed a Sunday prayer group. As more Vietnamese Christians moved into the area, the group blossomed into a congregation of more than 100 members. They purchased a building on North George Street in North York in 2006.

Huynh had converted shortly before he left Vietnam. After prison, he latched onto the Christian ideals of showing compassion for the less fortunate. Raised to worship his ancestors, he found caring for people beyond his immediate family a foreign, but refreshing, concept.

Becoming an American has changed his view of parenting. In Vietnam, children cannot speak to an elder man without permission. Since moving to America, he’s been around Vietnamese friends and family who have ordered their children away from him.

“They

Duong Huynh and his wife Thuco have dinner with family at their son’s restaurant, Pho Bistro, in March. (DAILY RECORD/SUNDAY NEWS – KATE PENN)

say, ‘This is adult business. Not for you,'” Huynh said. “I say, ‘No, let the children speak.'”Staying connected

For most of his childhood, Huynh’s country was at war. As a 12-year-old, he ducked into a rice paddy to avoid bullets from an airplane flying overhead. At 13, he saw the scattered limbs of his neighbors after a bomb dropped on their house.

“When people died, you didn’t think much about it,” he said. “Life didn’t have worth. Even if you live, you don’t have enough to eat. Some people thought it didn’t matter if you died or lived.”

He would be justified to run from such a place, where human life was discarded so frivolously, and never look back.

“But when you eat a piece of fruit, you have to remember where the tree was planted,” Huynh said.

He and others in York’s Vietnamese community find ways to feel that connection. They eat traditional foods together in the church social hall and worship in their native language.

But the older generation knows that won’t last. Already the children and young adults have a separate morning worship — in English.

“In 20 years, no one here will speak Vietnamese,” said Yen Vu, pastor at the Vietnamese Alliance Church. “We’ll be dead, and everyone here will speak English.”

In October, Huynh organized a fundraiser at the church to benefit typhoon victims in Vietnam. He and his wife spent a day preparing the food. They sold pork egg rolls with fish sauce and tofu and pork steamed inside banana leaves.

But the teenagers in the congregation tended to buy from a plate of egg rolls Huynh and his wife made just for them. They were stuffed with Steak-umms and Cheese Whiz.

“That’s what the kids like,” Huynh said, shrugging.

A cultural celebration

It was last Feb. 14, New Year’s Day.

It is the year of the Tiger, a good time to give birth to a boy who will grow strong. They say a girl born this year will struggle to find a husband.

As Christians, members of the Vietnamese Alliance Church put no spiritual stock in mysticism of the Asian lunar calendar. And yet they’ve retained the custom as a celebration of their culture.

That day mimicked the look and festive feel of Easter Sunday. The women and young girls wore traditional dresses and posed for pictures. Bright flowers decorated the altar. Banners hung in the sanctuary, bearing the Vietnamese words for Happy New Year.

Huynh sat through the service and ate the customary New Year’s feast with the rest of the congregation afterward. His New Year’s Day would not be complete until later, though.

In Vietnam, children always visit their parents on the first day of the New Year. In America, the first day of the New Year fell on Valentine’s Day, a busy day for Lee, the owner of Pho Bistro, a restaurant on East Market Street in York.

“He knew I would be late, and he understood,” Lee said. “But I knew I had to go there no matter how late it was.”

At around 11 p.m., he started closing down the restaurant, hoping to arrive at his father’s home before midnight. He gathered his two children into the car and got there with a half hour to spare.

The children ran to their grandfather. They wished him good health and a long life for the New Year, bowing their heads. Then, they all sat in the living room to watch a satellite TV broadcast of a New Year celebration in the Little Saigon neighborhood of San Jose, Calif.

Huynh sat in his chair. Lee sat on the couch opposite him between his two children. They playfully tousled Lee’s hair and hung their arms around his neck.

Huynh watched the affection between his son and grandchildren, pleased with his New Year.

At peace

Huynh’s story might earn admiration in most communities, and yet he doesn’t often tell it, except to say his hardships led him to Christianity.

In York County’s tiny but growing Vietnamese community, people hold Huynh in high esteem. He helps with immigration forms if a family can’t afford a lawyer. He prepares taxes if they need help reading English.

“He is the man you see if you have questions,” said Bao Nguyen, a friend and parishioner at Huynh’s church.

Now retired, Huynh lives in a split-level home in Springettsbury Township. Three of his sons and his two daughters run businesses. And one son holds a master’s degree in engineering.

“My life has been a chain of ups and downs,” he said. “I’m happy now.”

About this story

This story was based on interviews with Duong Huynh, his wife, Thuoc, and son Lee. Interviews with those three and several others — including Bao Nguyen and Yen Vu — provided perspective about the local Vietnamese population and historical context about life in Vietnam during the civil war and after the fall of Saigon.

Growing Vietnamese population

Here are estimates of the number of people speaking Vietnamese as their primary language at home in York County throughout the decade.

2003: 385

2006: 902

2008: 938

Source: U.S. Census Bureau

Fall of Saigon

This year will be the 35th anniversary of the fall of the Republic of South Vietnam, a free democracy.

In the dawn of April 30, 1975, communist forces reached the South Vietnamese capital of Saigon, meeting minimal resistance.

Months earlier, the communists conquered the provincial capital of Phuoc Binh.

Previous U.S. presidents promised aid if that happened, but the United States did nothing. President Nixon had resigned from office and successor Gerald Ford could not convince Congress to rescue Saigon from the communists.

This emboldened the North Vietnamese, who launched a new campaign in March 1975. The South Vietnamese forces fell back in disarray. The North Vietnamese attacked south along the coast toward Saigon, defeating the South Vietnamese forces at each encounter.

The South Vietnamese 18th Division had fought a valiant battle at Xuan Loc, just to the east of Saigon, destroying three North Vietnamese divisions in the process. However, it proved to be the last battle in the defense of the Republic of South Vietnam.

In Saigon, South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu resigned and transferred authority to Vice President Tran Van Huong before fleeing the city on April 25. By April 27, the North Vietnamese had completely encircled Saigon and began to maneuver for a complete takeover.

North Vietnamese tanks crashed through the gates of the Presidential Palace, and the war came to an end.

Source: This Day in History at History.com

About Duong Huynh (pronounced Yung Winn)

Age: 70

Lives in: Springettsbury Township

Family: wife Thuoc (pronounced Thuc), seven children, 19 grandchildren

Huynh glances at a bulletin board in a hallway at his church. The sign makes an appeal to help children in Cambodia. Huynh and other church members often raise money for people in southeast Asia. (DAILY RECORD/SUNDAY NEWS – PAUL KUEHNEL)

March 22, 2010

China’s Miracle Demystified

Filed under: Uncategorized — ktetaichinh @ 8:03 pm
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The average annual growth rate of GDP reached 9.8 percent, far exceeding the expectations of most people in the 1980s or even early 1990s, including Deng Xiaoping who initiated the reforms. Deng’s goal was to quadruple China’s economy in twenty years, implying an average annual growth rate of 7.2 percent per year.

In 1979, China was inward-looking and its trade as a percentage GDP was only 9.5 percent. Now China is the world’s largest exporter and the third largest importer, with trade contributing around 70 percent of GDP. Over 30 years, more than 600 million people got out of poverty.

China’s miracle raises the following five questions.

  1. What was behind China’s extraordinary performance?
  2. Why Did China Fail before the Transition in 1979?
  3. Why Didn’t Other Transition Economies Perform Equally Well?
  4. What Costs Did China Pay for Its Success?
  5. Can Other Developing Countries Replicate the Miracle?


Here are my answers to these questions:

1. What was behind China’s extraordinary performance?
After the industrial revolution, sustained growth in any economy depended on continuous technological innovation as well as industrial diversification and upgrading.

As Angus Maddison shows, before the 18th century, the average annual growth rate of per capita income in the West was only 0.05 percent for years. That means it took 1,400 years for Europe’s per capita income to double prior to the 18th century. In the 19th century, it took about 70 years; and in the 20th century, 35 years.

The industrial revolution sped the move away from an agrarian society where 85 to 90 percent of the labor force worked in traditional agriculture. The move from agriculture to nonagricultural and manufacturing sectors was gradual but inexorable. In the manufacturing sector, it was at first very labor-intensive, and then became more capital-intensive as technology advanced. Ultimately, the service sector dominated. Overall, the process was one of continuous structural change.

As a late-comer to this modernization process in 1949, China had the advantage of backwardness. To innovate, China did not have to invent the technology or industry by doing R&D. It could borrow technology, industries and institutions from the advanced countries with low risk and costs. East Asian economies, including Japan and the four small dragons as well as China after the transition in 1979, all tapped into this advantage.

2. Why Did China Fail before the Transition in 1979?
China didn’t tap into that potential until 1979 because it adopted a misguided modernization strategy.

Revolutionary leaders such as Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai hoped to make China an advanced country immediately after the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949. They adopted a strategy to build up advanced capital- and technology-intensive industries even though China was an agrarian economy.

The government’s priority industries went against China’s comparative advantage. The government needed to protect them by giving them monopoly positions and subsidizing them through various price distortions, including suppressed interest rates, over-valued exchange rates and so on. The price distortions created shortages and the government was obliged to use administrative measures to mobilize and allocate resources directly to the non-viable firms in the priority industries.

Through those interventions the government was able to set up modern advanced industries, but the resources were misallocated and the incentives repressed. Economic performance was very poor. Haste made waste.

3. Why Didn’t Other Transition Economies Perform Equally Well?
Not only China but also all the socialist countries and most developing countries after WWII adopted a similar development strategy. In the 1980s and 1990s, they all engaged in reforms to transit to a market economy. However, their governments did not realize that the existing distortions were endogenous in a sense that they were instituted to protect the non-viable firms in the priority sectors.

Some of them eliminated the distortions immediately. The priority sectors collapsed, causing a contraction of GDP, surge of unemployment, and acute social disorder.  Others, to avoid this, continued to subsidize those non-viable firms through disguised subsidies and protection, and efficiency suffered.
China adopted a pragmatic, gradual, dual-track approach. On the one hand, the government continued to provide transitory protection to the non-viable firms in the priority sectors, and on the other hand, it liberalized private enterprises and allowed joint-ventures’ entry to labor-intensive sectors–areas in which China had comparative advantage, but were repressed before. In this way, China achieved stability and dynamic growth simultaneously.

4. What Costs Did China Pay for Its Success?
One of the main drawbacks of China’s gradual, dual-track approach to transition is the widening of income disparities. From a relatively egalitarian society in 1979, the Gini coefficient reached .47 in 2007.

The reason was the continuation of distortions in various sectors, including the overconcentration of financial services by the four large state-owned banks, the almost zero royalty on mining, and the monopoly of major service industries, including telecommunication, power, and finance.

Those distortions are used to subsidize or protect the non-viable firms in the old priority sectors. They also favor big corporations and rich people. For example, the interest rates that big banks charged are kept artificially low, allowing big companies and rich people to benefit at the expense of middle class depositors who have limited access to credit services.

The result is a widening of income disparities.
The large corporations and rich people have a higher saving propensity than low-income households. The widening of income disparities also contributes to the saving-consumption imbalance and China’s large trade surplus, which reflects the disparity in saving and consumption in recent years. Therefore, it is imperative for China to remove the remaining distortions and complete the transition to a market economy.

5. Can Other Developing Countries Replicate the Miracle?
Other developing countries can replicate China’s performance. Every developing country has a similar opportunity if they know how to tap into the advantage of backwardness, learn to borrow technology from advanced countries and upgrade their industries step by step.

Most developing countries also have all kinds of distortions and non-viable firms due to their governments’ past development strategies and inappropriate interventions. In this respect, China’s experience in the past 30 years provides useful lessons.

In the transition process, it may be desirable to adopt a dual-track approach, providing some transitory protection to those non-viable firms to maintain stability, but liberalizing entry to sectors in which the country has comparative advantage.

Ultimately, however, sustained and inclusive growth requires eliminating all distortions and completing the transition to a well- functioning market economy.

Comments

Dynamic Comparative Advantage

Submitted by Joe on Sat, 2010-03-20 06:38.

“In the transition process, it may be desirable to adopt a dual-track approach, providing some transitory protection to those non-viable firms to maintain stability, but liberalizing entry to sectors in which the country has comparative advantage.”

Yes, but what about non-viable firms that may become viable in the future – the idea of dynamic comparative advantage and the work of Ha Joon Chang suggesting that early protection of firms such as Toyota and Samsung allowed them to become industrial powerhouses further on in their development?

March 7, 2010

The Jobs of Yesteryear: Creative Destruction

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Slideshow from NPR (with audio), includes iceman, pinsetter, switchboard operator, typesetter, etc.

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