The Republic of Vietnam, 1955–1975: Vietnamese Perspectives on Nation Building

Through the voices of senior officials, teachers, soldiers, journalists, and artists, The Republic of Vietnam, 1955–1975, presents us with an interpretation of "South Vietnam" as a passionately imagined nation in the minds of ordinary Vietnamese, rather than merely as an expeditious political construct of the United States government.

The moving and honest memoirs collected, translated, and edited here by Tuong Vu and Sean Fear describe the experiences of war, politics, and everyday life for people from many walks of life during the fraught years of Vietnam's Second Republic, leading up to and encompassing what Americans generally call the "Vietnam War." The voices gift the reader a sense of the authors' experiences in the Republic and their ideas about the nation during that time. The light and careful editing hand of Vu and Fear reveals that far from a Cold War proxy struggle, the conflict in Vietnam featured a true ideological divide between the communist North and the non-communist South.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Southeast Asia Program Publications
• Release date: Jan 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781501745157

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Introduction

Tuong Vu and Sean Fear

From its origins as a guerilla struggle, the Vietnam War rapidly evolved into the definitive conventional military encounter of the Cold War era. The final stages featured tanks, artillery, helicopters, perhaps the world’s most sophisticated air defenses, and round-the-clock bombardment on an unprecedented scale. Despite this show of arms on both sides, however, the core underlying conflict was always primarily political in nature. Central to the struggle were the competing visions of nation building in the South advanced by rival Vietnamese communist and noncommunist actors, each supported to varying degrees by their respective international allies.

Although scholarship on the role of the United States and the communist side has been substantial, republican Vietnamese contributions and perspectives have only recently attracted in-depth scholarly attention. The vast majority of academic works devoted to the Vietnam War have been centered on American decisions and experiences.¹ A series of recent studies has begun reversing this trend, but they have been limited to certain periods or particular state projects.² Few works address how local actors interpreted and shaped events, either in tandem or at cross-purposes with the Americans. And fewer still have explored the role of civil society and the population at large in South Vietnam.

Far from puppets or incidental players in the conflict, however, the Republic of Vietnam (RVN, or South Vietnam) and its constituents were committed to a robust nation-building agenda of their own. This often took the form of top-down state-driven projects, including involuntary population resettlement; experimentation with state- and market-oriented economic reform; agrarian development and land registration; modernization of the national educational system; and, in 1967, a sweeping political restructuring consisting of a new constitution, a bicameral legislature, and national- and village-level elections.

Everyday citizens also had a part to play, as the testimonies in this volume attest. The military, boasting well over one million soldiers at peak strength, was swelled by conscription but also by thousands of dedicated volunteers, who at times fought bravely against often unfavorable odds. Desertion, corruption, and administrative ineptitude posed persistent challenges, but rank-and-file soldiers at times also demonstrated great commitment, their determined resistance against communist offensives in 1968 through 1975 proving critical to prolonging the state’s survival.³

Meanwhile, despite the government’s recurring if generally ineffective harassment and censorship, South Vietnamese artists, writers, musicians, and even film and television stars contributed to a burgeoning cultural scene in Saigon, their works regarded by many as a welcome alternative to the communists’ statist agitprop. South Vietnamese journalists likewise resisted state efforts to stifle an independent press, resulting in a lively print media scene that contested recurring government crackdowns until the very end. Through brave opposition to the government’s authoritarian tendencies, South Vietnam’s vibrant civil society demonstrated a firm commitment to constitutionalism and republican values. And long before the guns of war fell silent, a distinctly anticommunist national identity had emerged and crystallized in the South.

This volume emerged from a symposium held at the University of California, Berkeley in October 2016, which aimed to promote a deeper understanding of the Republic of Vietnam. This two-day event was not an ordinary academic meeting: in addition to academic presentations, the speakers included fifteen prominent South Vietnamese administrators, politicians, military officers, educators, writers, artists, and journalists.

It was quite a challenge for the organizers of the symposium to assemble these historical figures from around the world, the youngest of whom were in their late sixties and the oldest in their mid-nineties.⁴ In fact, two of the confirmed speakers—Mr. Võ Long Triều, the former owner and editor of the Saigon-based newspaper Ðại Dân Tộc (The great nation) and an opposition legislator in the RVN’s National Assembly, and Nguyễn Thanh Liêm, former vice minister of education in the RVN—passed away only a few months before the symposium. Two other speakers, Vũ Quốc Thúc and Cao Văn Thân, were well enough only to greet symposium participants from their hospital beds in Paris and Montreal, respectively. (Their papers were read by others and are included in this volume.) And both Mr. Lâm Lễ Trinh, professor of law and former minister of the interior, and Mr. Huỳnh Văn Lang, former director of the Foreign Exchange Agency and founder of the journal Bách Khoa (Polytechnics), presented via Skype from southern California. (Their presentations have not been included in this volume.)⁵

Especially significant is that these RVN figures have had few previous opportunities to express themselves, despite having played such important roles in the history of their country. Even today, the presenters remain largely obscure in the English- language scholarship on the war, reflecting the field’s long-standing tendency to dismiss noncommunist South Vietnamese perspectives. Indeed, this symposium represents one of the first events to include such a wide range of former RVN military and civilian officials in a respectful academic environment.⁶ The range of authors also reflects the diversity of South Vietnamese society, featuring accounts from men and women, soldiers and civilians, and elites and everyday citizens alike. Readers may agree or disagree with the viewpoints of these historical figures, but it is our hope that this volume will provide insight for researchers and general readers alike, both by illuminating the historical events that the authors shaped and experienced and by recording the memories and reflections of a generation that is rapidly passing away. Accordingly, apart from minor editing for length and clarity, the testimonies presented here have been kept intact.

Nation Building in War

Nation building can be defined either as the deliberate efforts to create a community within a nation-state or the abstract process by which such a community emerges. The basis for the community is a sense of solidarity built on shared beliefs, cultural practices, or political principles.⁷ As an abstract process, nation building may take place over centuries in tandem with other processes such as war, state formation, urbanization, and industrialization. As a deliberate process, it can be championed either by local elites or by foreign powers.

These efforts can be observed in Africa and Asia following World War II, as local elites sought to expel colonial rulers and form new nation-states. As the world’s superpower, the United States led many nation-building projects abroad to contain communism (for example, South Vietnam) or to accompany regime change (for example, Afghanistan and Iraq).

The importance of the postcolonial context for any discussion of post-1945 nation building cannot be overstated. As newly formed states emerged in Asia and Africa following the end of World War II, most faced extraordinary challenges including widespread illiteracy, deep social divisions, economic dependency, and political instability. Given these obstacles, it is perhaps unsurprising that many struggled to establish cohesive polities, sustained economic prosperity, or social equality.

Postcolonial nation building also proved challenging because rival elites and their constituents often held competing national visions, leading to violent confrontations and civil war. Beyond the threat to political stability, war also deprived postcolonial states of the resources required for development. Especially challenging during wartime is the preservation of democratic norms and institutions. This is not an abstract issue, but a challenge that involves real dilemmas: how to provide sufficient security for elections to take place despite violent threats by the enemy; whether to tolerate civilian protests against the government’s conduct of war that can be exploited by the enemy; how to prosecute war crimes without affecting the morale of troops on the front lines; and how to protect civil rights while preventing enemy infiltration. These are taxing dilemmas even for long-established democracies, let alone young governments that lack democratic traditions. The more protracted and intense the war, the likelier it becomes for democratic norms and institutions to be compromised.

Like other young postcolonial states in Asia and Africa, the Republic of Vietnam confronted a largely illiterate population, an underdeveloped agrarian economy dominated by foreign influence and dependent on trade with the metropole, and a diverse society beset by deep ethnic and class cleavages. These were the objective conditions that made radical revolutions attractive and popular in much of the postcolonial world, and Vietnam was no exception. In fact, when the republic was established in 1955, a revolutionary government was already consolidating power in North Vietnam, posing a critical threat to the South Vietnamese state’s survival. Nonetheless, there was much more to the Republic of Vietnam than its involvement in a war. Central to its story, we believe, were the collective efforts of many men and women dedicated to nation building. This volume explores their efforts and the many challenges they faced.

Challenges of Nation Building in the Republic of Vietnam

The Republic of Vietnam was founded in October 1955 under the leadership of President Ngô Ðình Diệm and with the support of many Vietnamese political groups. The republic emerged from the protracted war (1946–54) between France and the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV), an anticolonial coalition led by Hồ Chí Minh and increasingly controlled by communist partisans. In great part due to concern over communist influence within the DRV, many nationalists rallied instead during the war behind Bảo Ðại, the former emperor of Vietnam, demanding a united, independent Vietnamese state free of French and communist domination. Meanwhile, fighting a losing battle against the Chinese-trained and Chinese-equipped DRV, which likewise claimed the mantle of national independence, French colonial authorities established a Vietnamese auxiliary army of some 167,000 soldiers by 1954.⁸

Defeated by Hồ Chí Minh’s forces at the Battle of Ðiện Biên Phủ in 1954, France began withdrawing from Indochina following peace accords signed later that year in Geneva. The Geneva Accords also left Vietnam divided along the seventeenth parallel, with DRV authority established in the North, and Bảo Ðại’s fledgling State of Vietnam recognized in the South. While communist forces quickly consolidated control over the DRV, or North Vietnam, Ngô Ðình Diệm—a Catholic nationalist—emerged victorious in a struggle against Bảo Ðại for control over the South. By 1955, Diệm had swept Bảo Ðại and his supporters aside, using a needlessly rigged referendum to proclaim his authority and inaugurate the new Republic of Vietnam—widely known as South Vietnam.

The republic that Ngô Ðình Diệm founded was not created from scratch; instead, it inherited the remnants of both the colonial bureaucracy and the French-trained Vietnamese military. Its territory extended up to the seventeenth parallel—the effective border with the communist DRV in the North—and contained roughly fourteen million inhabitants, including, at least initially, a small number of committed communist partisans.

The newborn Southern republic initially seemed outmatched. Its most intractable challenge was to secure widespread popular legitimacy. After all, despite Ngô Ðình Diệm’s impeccable nationalist credentials, the state he inherited had evolved under the shadow of the French military. The armed forces required thorough reorganization, and their loyalty to the government in Saigon had yet to be tested. Association with the United States was also a double-edged sword, undermining the republic’s assertions of sovereignty both at home and abroad. Moreover, while many in the South were apprehensive about the Vietnamese communists, they were also divided over long-standing ethnic, ideological, religious, and regional differences. As a result, upon proclaiming his presidency, Ngô Ðình Diệm was still far from earning widespread allegiance among the South’s diverse non-communist-aligned political communities.

In rural areas, the Diệm government’s position was less certain still. Significant pockets of the Southern countryside had embraced communist rule during the war with France, and many noncommunist Southerners nonetheless respected Hồ Chí Minh. Additionally, following Vietnam’s 1954 partition, the communists maintained clandestine weapons caches and cadres, in anticipation of future political or military mobilization. Meanwhile, in a further challenge to the new state’s internal unity and legitimacy, nearly one million Northern refugees had migrated to the South, requiring urgent assistance and posing the risk of a native Southern backlash.

Despite these daunting odds, the state proved relatively capable during its first five years in power. South Vietnam achieved a degree of political stability and military security, enabling notable economic and cultural development. The economic transition from French control to Vietnamese sovereignty went relatively smoothly, complemented by educational reforms aimed at asserting a postcolonial Vietnamese national identity (see chapters 2 and 8 in this volume).⁹ The migration of Northern writers, artists, and intellectuals to the South also stimulated new ideas and movements such as the Sáng Tạo (Creativity) literary group and the magazine Bách Khoa (Polytechnics) (see chapter 13).¹⁰

Yet the Ngô Ðình Diệm government’s increasing nepotism, corruption, and perceived Catholic favoritism created deep discontentment among the political elites. Equally significant, communist attacks on government targets and the assassination of local officials escalated sharply in 1958 and 1959, claiming the lives of hundreds of government supporters.¹¹ Though this communist revolt was increasingly under Hanoi’s direction, it was fueled in part by native Southerners’ growing dissatisfaction with Diệm, especially after a draconian 1959 crackdown saw former anti-French guerrillas condemned as communists and summarily detained, tortured, or executed by government forces.

By 1960, the legitimacy of the Ngô Ðình Diệm government was in crisis, with unrest in some provinces and urban anticommunists publicly decrying Diệm’s authoritarianism. Although the government made impressive counterinsurgency gains in 1962, this military success was overshadowed by the mounting political tensions, compounded by renewed communist momentum.¹² Widespread Buddhist protests in the summer of 1963 combined with Diệm’s resistance to American demands for reform prompted President John F. Kennedy and several advisers to lend secret support to a South Vietnamese military coup. On November 1, 1963, Ngô Ðình Diệm was deposed, and then murdered the following day along with his brother.

The Central Intelligence Agency–backed coup resulted in four years of political chaos, as a procession of rival generals and weak civilian leaders competed to fill the void. Seizing the opportunity, Hanoi escalated its military campaign in the South, with the goal of achieving immediate victory. The White House, alarmed that South Vietnam was on the brink of collapse, prepared a massive expansion of the war to follow the 1964 presidential election. In response, Moscow and especially Beijing rushed to aid Hanoi, helping it to meet the American challenge.

But while U.S. military intervention may have forestalled Saigon’s capitulation in 1965, it generated a new set of debilitating long-term obstacles. The war destabilized South Vietnam’s countryside, forcing millions to seek refuge in mushrooming urban slums. The influx of American wealth, personnel, and consumer goods prompted deep resentment toward the corrupting effects of foreign culture, and American largesse created deep imbalances in the Southern economy (see chapters 1, 3, and 13).

Faced once again with formidable overlapping challenges, South Vietnam’s leaders and civilians managed an unlikely if qualified recovery. Following a second Buddhist uprising in 1966, which saw much of the central coast defying central government authority, the military junta was compelled to make political concessions in order to both regain popular legitimacy and shore up wavering American support. Accordingly, 1967 saw a new constitution, a bicameral assembly, and presidential elections. Though widely seen in the South as a fig leaf to legitimize de facto military rule, the 1967 reforms helped restore political stability, enshrining the state’s pledge to uphold administrative transparency, political pluralism, and the rule of law.

Following the elections, South Vietnamese officials made unheralded progress, promoting economic development and introducing social and administrative reform. In the countryside, long-standing land claims by tenant farmers were recognized and legalized, at the South Vietnamese government’s initiative (see chapter 4). And despite constant tension and surveillance by an apprehensive military regime, a vibrant civil society also emerged in Saigon during this phase of the war, resulting in a blossoming in arts, science, and the humanities (see chapters 13 and 14). American technology, material goods, and media were avidly consumed, provoking intense cultural and philosophical debates. Though the government still wielded great power over society, opposition voices and parties were afforded relative tolerance between 1967 and 1971, especially in urban centers.

The communist Tết Offensive of 1968 provided a profound test of the South’s political institutions, which largely weathered the crisis intact. The Tết attacks generated a wave of passionate if short-lived anticommunist solidarity. Exposed to often indiscriminate American firepower, the communists suffered substantial casualties, affording the Saigon government an opportunity to increase its rural presence. Communist atrocities, particularly the massacre of nearly three thousand civilians in Huế, repulsed previously ambivalent Southerners, particularly among the urban population.¹³ From then on, urban Southerners fled en masse wherever communist forces advanced.

In the United States, however, Tết shocked a public subject to years of official deception about the war, leading to renewed doubts over the conflict’s merits and prospects, and a clamor for American withdrawal. In response to mounting popular demands, incoming U.S. president Richard Nixon began reducing the American presence, expanding and equipping South Vietnamese forces to bear a greater share of the defense burden (see chapters 3 and 7). This approach appeared to pay off when, in 1972, a number of Army of the Republic of Viet Nam (ARVN) units performed effectively against a massive well-armed communist attack, albeit bolstered by decisive American air and logistical support. Nonetheless, reduced American aid and a spiraling defense budget left the South’s economy plagued by simultaneous inflation and recession, though a new team of young Vietnamese technocrats worked to mitigate the damage (see chapters 1, 3, and 4).

But with global public opinion already turning against the war, military infighting and accelerated corruption saw the South’s fledgling civil society once again brought into conflict against the state. A turning point came with the 1971 presidential election, a markedly different contest than the 1967 affair. As Bùi Diễm, South Vietnam’s ambassador to the United States recalled, it marked the moment when the search for a vivifying national purpose was finally discarded in favor of the chimerical strength of an autocrat.¹⁴ After President Nguyễn Văn Thiệu’s written vote-rigging instructions were inevitably leaked, both opposition candidates withdrew in protest. Ignoring even devout anticommunists’ howls of remonstration, Thiệu proceeded apace, insisting that the now unopposed contest represented a referendum on his rule. This one-man show, however, greatly damaged the international and domestic legitimacy of his government.

Predictably reelected but faced with mounting public outrage and a renewed communist offensive, the government imposed harsh new legal decrees, effectively silencing opposition parties and the press (see chapter 12). The measured optimism of 1967 now contended with anxiety and despair. And by the mid-1970s, even fanatically anticommunist Northern refugee parties had taken to the streets demanding President Thiệu’s resignation.

All the while, plummeting U.S. public support for South Vietnam pressured Washington and Saigon to reach an agreement with Hanoi. The Paris Peace Accords of 1973—signed by the United States and North Vietnam, with South Vietnam resisting until the last minute—left a large communist military force in the South, replenished with fresh troops from the North and backed by supplies from China and the Soviet Union (see chapter 5). Meanwhile, South Vietnam’s chronic dependence on American aid, weapons, and air support proved a fatal liability. Though U.S. economic assistance to Saigon remained substantial until the very end, the changing political climate in Washington saw Congress cut U.S. aid in half and prohibit any form of military support for the republic in 1974—an abrupt about-face that few states in South Vietnam’s position could have withstood.

Still, if the republican experiment remained uncertain up until the communists’ final victory, the ideals that inspired it were real and are essential to understanding the complexity of the war. Their proponents often mirrored the sacrifice and commitment long misattributed solely to the communist side. Among Southern republicans, imprisonment at the hands of French colonial authorities, the South Vietnamese military, and ascendant communist officials after 1975 was not uncommon.

And it was under the Republic of Vietnam that urban Southerners had, at times, enjoyed a relatively liberal environment. Targeted for infiltration if not assassination by communist agents, and for surveillance and harassment by their own government, student, religious, ethnic, or professional organizations clung to their hard-fought autonomy. Inspired by democratic ideals and the antiwar movement in the West, many war-fatigued Southerners rallied behind calls for peace. Repeatedly frustrated by their government, Southern civil society groups reliably took to the streets to protest, at times managing to effect meaningful political change. If only fitfully attained, these republican visions were nonetheless widespread and powerful, and worthy of more serious consideration than most studies of the war have afforded them thus far.

Featuring testimonies and recollections from across the duration of the Republic of Vietnam, by high-ranking officials and everyday citizens alike, this volume is uniquely equipped to document the challenges, setbacks, and aspirations that informed the republican project. It demonstrates that South Vietnam’s fate was far from preordained, its prospects ebbing and flowing over time. And it preserves for posterity the voices of a generation that played a pivotal but long overlooked role in one of the twentieth century’s most tragic and dramatic encounters.

Overview of the Book

This volume is divided into five themes: economic development; politics and security; education; journalism and media; and culture and the arts.

Chapters 1–4 cover banking, finance, and economic development. Minister of Trade and Industry Nguyễn Ðức Cường offers a sweeping overview of the key challenges faced by RVN leaders over two decades in building a foundation for economic growth. Vũ Quốc Thúc describes the challenges he faced while establishing the banking and financial sector during the First Republic’s turbulent transition from French colony to independent state. Phạm Kim Ngọc, minister of the economy during the Second Republic, describes his team’s attempts to avert financial disaster following the withdrawal of U.S. aid beginning in 1969. And former minister of agriculture and land reform Cao Văn Thân reveals his contributions to agricultural modernization and to the 1970 Land to the Tiller land-reform campaign.

Politics and security are the themes of chapters 5–7. Present during the critical diplomatic showdowns that helped seal South Vietnam’s fate, Hoàng Ðức Nhã considers the trials of contending with a superpower central to South Vietnam’s foreign relations. Trần Minh Công, meanwhile, recounts the challenges he faced at the helm of the National Police Academy during a period of political unrest and guerilla insurgency. Finally, Bùi Quyền reflects on his experiences as a frontline soldier, his assessment of the South Vietnamese military, and his insights from working with American advisors.

Chapters 8–9 are discussions of education by Nguyễn Hữu Phước and Võ Kim Sơn, two teachers and school administrators in the Second Republic. Nguyễn Hữu Phước discusses the philosophical tenets underlying the educational system. His chapter covers high-profile developments such as the comprehensive high schools, community colleges, teacher-training methods, and the use of objective tests for high school graduates. Võ Kim Sơn focuses on her personal experiences as a teacher in the diverse educational environments of South Vietnam, including the National Wards Schools, the College of Education in Saigon University, and the private Catholic school Thánh Mẫu in Gia Ðịnh Province.

In chapters 10–13, journalists Phạm Trần, Vũ Thanh Thủy, and Trùng Dương offer their perspectives on the media scene in the RVN. As a journalist and editor with a career spanning both the First and Second Republics, Phạm Trần provides an overview of major issues relating to press freedom in South Vietnam and also discusses the control of the press in Vietnam today. Vũ Thanh Thủy was a young war correspondent in the 1970s, and her chapter describes her battlefield observations and the role of the media (both South Vietnamese and international) in the war. Trùng Dương, a novelist who was a cofounder of the daily Sóng Thần in Saigon in the 1970s, discusses how the paper played an aggressive watchdog role in the late Second Republic and how journalists bravely challenged the government’s attempt to muffle the press.

Finally, the last two chapters are testimonies from novelist Nhã Ca and actress Kiều Chinh. Both authors capture the vibrant and rich literature and arts scene in the RVN. Nhã Ca particularly highlights the relative freedom writers enjoyed at the time and the challenges facing them during and after the war. While Kiều Chinh focuses primarily on the remarkable growth of cinema under the Second Republic, her chapter also offers valuable memories of cinematic development during the colonial and early postcolonial years in both North and South Vietnam.

The individuals who offer their testimonies in this volume represent a range of professions and perspectives, and their diverse voices and deep experiences contribute to a nuanced understanding of South Vietnamese society and the Vietnam War. Most of the authors were relatively young at the time of the events they describe, coming of age or beginning their careers during the First Republic. They came from middle-class backgrounds, and many were educated in the West. Some displayed strong adherence to liberal values; others showed a deep commitment to a capitalist economy; and many were optimistic about the future of the RVN until the very end. They faced massive challenges in their work, whether from shifting American strategy, communist threats, or their own government’s repressive policies.

More broadly, their testimonies present a continually evolving and at times seemingly viable nation-building project with significant South Vietnamese agency. The various authors emphasize its liberal constitution, certain functioning representative institutions, modern military and police force, technocratic bureaucracy, dynamic educational and economic systems, dedicated journalists, and lively community of artists and writers. Their accounts portray a complex society that strove to overcome regional, religious, and political schisms while struggling to establish republican institutions. Despite their diverse and sometimes opposing political positions, many of these contributors shared a vision of a national community free from war, communist and authoritarian rule, and foreign intervention—whether French, American, Soviet, or Chinese.

Several testimonies offer their authors’ personal views of their communist enemies and American allies, as well as their explanations for the ultimate defeat of South Vietnam. These authors see communist North Vietnam as part of the Communist Bloc bent on imposing a communist regime all over Vietnam. They admit the popularity of the North Vietnamese leader Hồ Chí Minh, yet attribute the communist advantage primarily to their skills in psychological warfare and their use of violence and coercion.

Americans appear in mixed light in the testimonies of RVN government officials. American support is noted, but some authors take issues with the imperious attitude of certain American officials and advisors such as Henry Kissinger and John Paul Vann. South Vietnamese journalists and educators admired American values and institutions, but some profoundly question the attitude of the American media toward the republic.

Some authors believe that American reduction of support after 1973 led to the fall of South Vietnam in April 1975 to the communists, who continued to receive full backing from their allies. Five authors did not leave Vietnam after that loss, and three of them were incarcerated for as long as thirteen years. Whether or not they were the targets of communist retributions, several authors feel strongly vindicated in their lost cause, given what happened in postwar Vietnam since 1975.

In providing their testimonies, the contributors were constrained by time, health conditions, and the limitations of their memories. As editors, we asked them to recount events to the best of their knowledge, checked the facts to the extent possible, and helped them to follow academic writing norms. However, we value their testimonies not only for their potential use as primary sources by historians but also for their perspectives and sentiments. The latter may be fair or biased, insightful or misguided, but more importantly, they enable both specialists and general readers to gain a sense of the difficult yet exciting period in which they helped make a difference.

To contextualize and enhance the value of their testimonies, we commissioned two additional chapters written by professional historians who are Vietnamese-Americans. Chapter 15 by Nu-Anh Tran of the University of Connecticut explains the neglect of the Republic of Vietnam in the American historical memory and makes a personal appeal to the diasporic community for help in addressing this problem. Echoing our view about the importance of memories, Tran urges everyone who lived under the RVN to write memoirs, to grant interviews, and to share their memories. The most important kind of help from the community, Tran believes, is to provide primary sources for historians, which is what this volume aims at. In addition, the community should support Vietnamese studies, value the humanities and the social sciences as possible careers for their children, and support intellectual freedom.

In chapter 16, Tuan Hoang of Pepperdine University discusses how historians view the values and limitations of personal memoirs. Hoang also reviews some of the most important memoirs written in the Vietnamese language by former government and civil society leaders of the RVN; these are not the same figures who contribute to this volume but were no less prominent. These memoirs have been published in the United States for many years, but scholars have hardly used them. Hoang’s review helps not only to provide a broader context for the testimonies in this volume but also to draw out the major themes in those memoirs that parallel our discussion above on the challenges facing nation-building efforts in the republic. These themes include communist violence that explains the harsh anticommunist policies in the early years of Ngô Ðình Diệm, contested views of the First Republic, and a generally more positive assessment of the Second Republic. The bourgeois values embraced by the RVN, Hoang points out, drew support from many Vietnamese at the time and are a source of nostalgia for many in Vietnam today.

Looking Forward

For too long the Vietnam War has been popularly understood as a conflict primarily between the United States against a unified Vietnamese nation, presumed to have been led by Hồ Chí Minh. The underlying Vietnamese ideological and political clash, in which the United States played a shifting role over a thirty-year period, has often been obscured by scholars who exaggerate American importance on the one hand, and assume overwhelming Vietnamese support for the communists on the other.

But new scholarship since the end of the Cold War reveals that North Vietnam’s leaders were often motivated more by communist doctrine than pragmatic nationalism, contrary to what many opponents of the American war effort presumed.¹⁵ Conversely, historians have traced the emergence of republican constitutionalism—championed by many of South Vietnam’s diverse political groups—back to the early twentieth-century colonial era.¹⁶ No mere Cold War proxy struggle, the communist/republican schism in Vietnam was irreconcilable long before American intervention began in earnest, and it lingers among Vietnamese across the globe even today. The South Vietnamese state struggled to overcome its dependence on U.S. assistance, and