A glorified divide in Vietnam

03/05/2010
By Donald Kirk
Source: Asia Time

HO CHI MINH CITY - Vietnam's President Nguyen Minh Triet was the central figure on hand to lend top-level dignity to a three-hour parade of history as re-enacted on the 35th anniversary of the April 30, 1975, fall of the ancien regime of old South Vietnam and the country's reunification under Communist Party rule.

Goose-stepping soldiers, airmen and sailors led the way, followed by rows of marching Viet Cong decked out in pith helmets and black uniforms. Then cardboard tanks, prancing ballerinas in pink and white, mountain people in traditional dress, schoolchildren holding balloons and float after float. No special interest was left out in an endless procession of mobile displays, all with one bit of decor in common: huge portraits of Ho Chi Minh, the nation's heroic unifying figure.

It was an anniversary laden with symbolism and significance for acountry that seems strangely uncertain whether it's socialist or capitalist. Old-style communism exists less as a frighteningly repressive influence then as a firm reminder that the power still lies with the forces that marched to victory in 1975. Vietnam's gold-starred red flag flew everywhere, from shops and stores and office buildings. Whoever planned the long weekend celebration, however, seemed more interested in appealing to southern sensitivities and promoting capitalism than in preaching revolutionary values.

For that reason the most visible man at the festivities was Triet, a southerner who had been with the old National Liberation Front, the Viet Cong guerrillas and activists who fought in the South before the Americans arrived in force in 1965 and the North Vietnamese took over. It seemed equally logical that Nong Duc Manh, who may have more power than Triet in his role as the Communist Party of Vietnam's general secretary, was not in attendance. He is a northerner and rumored to be the son of Ho Chi Minh, which he has denied.

The route of the parade ran a couple of miles up the broad avenue leading to the palace, and all those in the cheering throng had to have passes to attend. But non-stop television coverage on a panoply of government and party networks insured maximum publicity. It was the biggest event of the holiday, this city's day to wallow in pride - or, more accurately, the chance for the Ho Chi Minh People's Committee and the local branch of the party to breathe inspiration and loyalty into a populace that quietly resents the ultimate dominance of Hanoi.

In that spirit, the vice chairman of the HCM People's Committee dwelled on the vibrancy of a metropolitan region that rivals that of some of the major cities of China in its rapid pursuit of industrialization and economic modernization. "You can see a lot of changes here," he reminded a group of foreign journalists, many of whom had covered Vietnam in the old days before April 30, 1975. "We are the most vibrant center for economic advance. We are a city of enormous economic potential with an average economic growth rate of 10% a year."

While such figures are always difficult to prove, this city does appear to be a driving force of expansion, a commercial hub whose tendrils extend throughout at least the southern one-third of the country. Ho Chi Minh City, now bursting with at least 9 million people, including 2 million who have moved in from outlying provinces in search of jobs, contributes 21% of the country's gross domestic product, 13% of the national budget and an astounding 40% of the country's export revenue.

The question is whether the people of Ho Chi Minh City - and much of the rest of the southern reaches of the country, including the Mekong Delta rice bowl - will eventually grow restive under the grip of the less commercially dynamic northerners. The answer for now and at least the near future is maybe - but certainly not to the point of a rebellion that would end the economic boom and result in tremendous hardship and suffering, reminiscent of the tragedy of the Vietnam War.

As the holiday parade suggested, the policy of Hanoi is to display nationalist benevolence, to encourage free enterprise and let the good capitalist times roll. There is just one catch: all news and views, everything in print, on the air, in theaters or on the Internet must be reviewed and is often censored. And, of course, there is no bona fide political opposition in a society where the party politburo, which includes the president but is controlled by the general secretary, reigns supreme.

A retired general, Nguyen Van Tai, spoke about the "Ho Chi Minh campaign" that precipitated the downfall of the Saigon regime. He said that General Duong Van "Big" Minh, who took over as president for the last 43 hours of the regime's existence in order to arrange the surrender, and his cabinet were free to "return to their families" after the Communist victory.

He claimed, however, to have no information when asked about the re-education camps to which thousands of southerners, notably officers of the South Vietnamese armed forces, were consigned and from which many never returned.

"Our policy is to put aside the past and look to the future," said Colonel Nguyen Van Bach of the Veterans' Association. "The victory was a victory of the whole nation."

That's a message repeated constantly as television channels broadcast endless footage of communist forces on the march to victory. There is no mistaking the need to hark back again and again to those days. People here need no better reminder of the need to stick to business and leave policy to the conquerors from the north. If Ho Chi Minh City dominates the economy, no one forgets that Hanoi, 1,500 kilometers away, remains the center of power - and final dispenser of fear and favor.

Donald Kirk, based in Seoul, covered the wars in Vietnam and Cambodia for newspapers and magazines and wrote two books about them. He has also written three books on Korea, most recently Korea Betrayed: Kim Dae Jung and Sunshine.