I've grown up casually believing America is number one and has the moral high ground. History class was flavored with lessons on how "those countries" (read: those that don't have America's form of government or enlightened leaders) made poor decisions or affronted human rights. Without much thought I assumed as truth that America was always right and did everything best. Maybe we've made mistakes but you know, the American way is still the best way.
Then I came to Vietnam, which immediately invokes the Vietnam War and jungles to American ears. I visited the Cu Chi Tunnels and the War Remnants museum to learn more about the "American War."
What I learned was humility.
The tunnels are a huge network of tiny tunnels hand built by the local people during the war a few hours outside Ho Chi Minh City. A lyrical war veteran led us around the site, showing us bomb craters bigger than my apartment and half exploded American tanks. We scooted in a crouch through the tunnels at breakneck speed while giggling to cover the claustrophobic nervousness. I emerged sweaty, dirty and triumphant. I can imagine how the clever locals and Viet Cong could come out of 'nowhere' to surprise the invading troops and then disappear again.
We also saw homemade hunting traps modified for war. Sharpened bamboo poles hid under trap doors or sprang shut at a moment's touch. I admired the ingenuity of the moving traps, then remembered that they injured Americans. It was a sobering moment, imagining the Americans as the enemy.
Next we visited the War Remnants Museum, where I flexed my listening muscle. The first floor highlighted an entire globe protesting "the War of American Aggression against Vietnam." Featured photographs included the famous picture of a person putting a flower into the barrel of a police rifle. On the second floor, we learned about the modern history of Vietnam's colonization, occupation in WWII and the many years of French rule. A clipping from a Geneva Convention document described the temporary partition of Vietnam in advance of unifying elections. Western countries including the US signed the promise to not interfere with the results or in Vietnam's affairs in any way. Unfortunately for America, the winning government was communist. We balked, helped install a puppet 'democratic' government in the South sympathetic to the US and made the North/South division permanent. Insert a decade long war until the US pulls their troops out.
I took a break with a Canadian friend. We sat quietly for a few minutes, unsure what to say. Then he turned to me hesitantly and asked, "Why? Why did it go on for so long?" I was at a loss; I didn't even know the US had lost the war. I said the first thing that popped into my mind.
"Pride."
The next room was dedicated to remembering American War Crimes, including the Mai Ling massacre, massive bombings of towns and the use of napalm. The photographs of the massacre in particular are unreal. Soldiers roused an entire village out of their homes and gunned them down while a photographer snapped pictures. Over 500 men, women, and children were murdered.
The next floor documented damage from Agent Orange and other associated defoliants. It's hard to describe the horror of these chemicals. The genetic mutations resulted in horrifying deformities that are still passed on today. Babies are born with missing limbs in areas woefully lacking sufficient health care. Agent Orange has utterly ruined an entire people that cannot reproduce without fear.
I ran into another American (rare occurrence, actually) at a bar in Hanoi a couple of nights ago. She was pretty drunk and excited to see a compatriot as we exchanged hometowns. Then her mood darkened and she grabbed me tightly. "Did you know?" she implored, staring at me intently. "Did you know about Agent Orange? I didn't. I pride myself on being an educated American and defend us against those that accuse us of ignorance. But I didn't know. I saw... A woman with no arms. I saw a baby with six toes. How is this happening? How did I not learn about this in school?"
She continued to tell me how she emailed her HS asking why this wasn't taught. She promised that she was going to raise awareness and change the world. Then she spilled her drink and patted me reassuringly. "People like you empower me. Thank you." And she was gone.
I am proud of her.
The museum exhibitions ended with heroic photojournalists' pictures illustrating the war. They were simply spectacular. I believe there was another room dedicated to peace, but the museum shut off the lights and ushered us outside at closing. I stood in the sun with my Canadian friends, shifting my weight uncomfortably. My instincts were reaching for justifications and explanations, for the "American side." I wanted to defend my country to my new Canadian friends.
But I kept silent. I let it sink in. Every moment I formulated arguments was a moment that I wasn't really listening to the Vietnamese story. It was a new story to me and I needed to hear it. I learned humility.
I still love America. Really, I do. I love our diversity and our freedom. I love that my drunk American friend can return home and actually speak out against past government actions.
Now I feel deeply that Americans are just the same as anyone else in the world - people. We're subject to the same failings as anyone else, including in war, government and human rights. We're all imperfect and we must be humble enough to acknowledge our failings to strive against them.
We cannot let our pride as a country blind us to our past mistakes, or we will repeat them.
Thank you, Vietnam, for your story. I'm sorry.
"What if they gave a war and nobody came." Paul
ReplyDeleteNow that is an education.
ReplyDeleteBUT, you must come full circle and hear the story from the American vet.
For my many many years of living overseas, I learned NEVER to brag about the US, NEVER. Even as people bashed my home, I would listen, listen to their perspective. In my heart, I know my side and I know which one I would and forever would choose (and I know which one they would choose if they could, tooo), so I remain silent and listen and learn. It is a rude awakening. But never lose your American pride. It is a glorious precious gift that we have to be born American. But, be humble in that gift.
"Those who do not learn from the past, are doomed to repeat it". I can't recall who said that sadly, but I do know it rings true.
ReplyDeleteAs a child, I remember. I grew up with Vietnam on the evening news. I saw footage of flame throwers licking the earth and jungle where those very holes you crept through took the brunt. Napalm falling from the sky. A family friend who served, was captured and endured a horrific period in the grasp of the Viet-Kong. He came back a changed man. The images of crying, scared women, children and elderly. Sent fleeing from all they knew into a nightmarish landscape, in the pages of "Time" and "Life". I saw the helicopters on the newscast, fleeing the fall of Saigon. Unfolding in front of us at the dinner table. But we were insulated. Safe. All that death, destruction, the ruined lives happening across the Pacific. For what? To what end? I didn't ask those questions for years. But I remember.