LOS ANGELES TIMES COMMENTARY
U.S. Mustn't Betray Iraq as It Did South Vietnam
By Quang X.
Pham
May 3,
2004
Shortly after
noon
on
April 30, 1975,
a crowd of panicky Vietnamese refugees on
Guam burst
into tears. They had been huddling near the camp's operations center listening
to the BBC. My mother was among the crowd of mostly women and elderly people.
"The communists have entered
Saigon.
It's all over." The radio announcement quickly filtered throughout the camp.
Our worst fears had been realized, for my father was still in Saigon,
whereabouts unknown. But I was only 10 and oblivious to the calamity at hand. As
the tropical sun baked the salty sweat onto my skin, so would the memories of
Vietnam later stencil their indelible marks.
The next day we left for a new life in the United States, fortunate to be among
the half-percent of the population that escaped. But even though the war was
over, the blood continued to spill in Vietnam. America betrayed us that day
(although many have denied it ever since); it was the only time the U.S. ever
abandoned an ally on the battlefield.
After Watergate dethroned President Nixon, President Ford's hands were tied
despite his final plea to help South Vietnam amid the North's all-out assault to
capture
Saigon.
Congress overwhelmingly voted against resuming aid despite atrocious and blatant
cease-fire violations by the North Vietnamese. With the exception of a handful
of people in the State Department and U.S. military and of citizens involved in
the evacuation and refugee resettlement, Americans had had enough. The war had
gone on for more than a decade, with 58,235 American dead and countless physical
and psychological casualties. For the South Vietnamese, about 300,000 soldiers
paid the ultimate price. Vietnam as a people lost 2 million to 3 million.
The
United States
didn't lose in Vietnam. The South Vietnamese did. Those stranded behind paid
dearly for losing their war and their country. Life changed drastically. A month
after winning, the communists began rounding up a million former government
officials, educators and soldiers, including my father, for internment in
"reeducation" camps.
With few exceptions, these prisoners were detained without charge, trial or
protection from criminal abuses by the guards. A month turned into a year, then
into more than a decade. My father was held for 12 years. Human rights
researchers estimated 70,000 were executed and thousands died of hard labor,
disease and malnutrition while the world ignored their plight.
After several years under communist rule, millions began escaping, mostly via
boats. According to the Red Cross, an additional 300,000 died on the high seas.
In nearby
Cambodia,
2 million more perished in the Khmer Rouge's "killing fields." Although the
quest to account for American POWs and MIAs in the postwar years continued, the
United Nations took several years to investigate the reeducation camp crisis.
What will June 30 bring the Iraqis? In the year since Baghdad's liberation,
victory has morphed into uncertainty. It is increasingly clear that President
Bush can't let things drag on. Americans are losing patience, especially those
who are not doing the fighting. But America must not betray the Iraqis as it
betrayed the South Vietnamese. Our soldiers must finish their job, whatever that
may be, and leave Iraq only when it is prepared for stable self-government.
Otherwise, start erecting refugee camps for those Iraqis who have been on our
side, however few they may be.
I still remember my flight to the U.S. The tropics of Guam had given us a
temporary illusion of Vietnam, but we had to go on. As the cargo plane rolled
down the runway, I noticed two rows of dark green jets. Neatly parked, with no
crewmen in sight and no bombs to be loaded, they were the B-52s the South
Vietnamese had thought were coming one more time.
Quang X. Pham, a Marine veteran of the 1991 Persian Gulf War, is writing a memoir about duty, fate and the aftermath of war.
Copyright 2004 Los Angeles Times