Book review- Tragic Mountains

Tragic Mountains: The Hmong, the Americans and the Secret Wars for Laos, 1942-1992

Jane Hamilton-Merritt, 1993

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Tragic Mountains: The Hmong, the Americans and the Secret Wars for Laos, 1942-1992 is the culmination of fourteen years of experience and research of the Indochina Wars from journalist, war correspondent, photographer and human rights activist Dr Jane Hamilton-Merritt. Since the 1960s, Hamilton-Merritt has covered war in Indochina and its aftermath, taking a particular interest in the role of the Hmong, an ethnic minority group that live in highland areas of Laos and Vietnam. 

The Hmong are a four thousand year-old culture that originates in southern China, but which extended southwards to Thailand, Laos and Vietnam in a mass migration to escape Chinese persecution in the eighteenth century. During the Vietnam War- more accurately described as the Second Indochina War- thousands of Hmong were recruited by the CIA to assist and rescue American soldiers as a part of the USA’s covert operations in Laos to disrupt the Ho Chi Minh supply trail and to counter insurgency by the communist Pathet Lao. Promised by the Americans that with their help the communists would be defeated, the Hmong, led by General Vang Pao and in many cases trained to become pilots through US and Thai support, became loyal and fearless allies of the United States. However, the Nixon administration’s inauspicious negotiated peace settlement of 1972 left the doors open for rolling communist victory across Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos in 1975, without allowing proper provisions to defend their allies in Laos, the Hmong.

Kaysone Phomvihane’s Pathet Lao came to power in Laos with an open declaration to “wipe out” the reactionary Hmong who had fought alongside the Americans for decades. The United States Government’s shameful abandonment of their former allies is detailed harrowingly by Hamilton-Merritt, who became a voice for the refugee Hmong community in Thailand that grew as Hmong fled their homeland in fear of persecution. The author, who shows immense respect and sympathy for the plight of the Hmong, worked for the US State Department as Expert Consultant on Highland Lao Refugees in the 1980s and has several times testified before US congress on issues regarding refugees, human rights abuses and genocide in Asia. Furthermore, she has twice been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize for her work on behalf of the Hmong, in 1988 and 2000. 

At over five hundred pages, this edition does justice to the many years of dedicated research that went into it. Personally, I found myself losing interest in the details of military operations throughout the American war in Laos, a focus that takes up much of the middle part of the book. Where Hamilton-Merritt’s work really comes into its own is in the explanation of events after the American withdrawal and communist takeover; when Laos became one of the world’s most secretive totalitarian states. “Extinct Destruction Operations”, a genocidal campaign by the newly-formed Lao People’s Democratic Republic (LPDR) to eliminate the Hmong minority, passed almost totally ignored or denied by the international media. The most startling element of this came in the reports from Lao Hmong who had escaped to Thailand of poisonous rains dropped over Hmong settlements in their home country, causing acute sickness and death to those infected by it. The theory that the Soviet Union had been violating the 1972 Biological and Toxin Weapons Convention in providing the LPDR with chemical weapons to attack the Hmong- later discovered to be true- was denounced by the US government and international media, who preferred the explanation of scientist and politician Matthew Meselson that the ‘yellow rain’ reported by the Hmong was in fact bee faeces. Hamilton-Merritt’s dynamic journalistic skill allows that the wider issues pushing US policy- in this case, the Carter administration’s wish to pursue better relations with the Soviet Union- are examined as closely as the individual cases of Hmong families, to which the author applies great care and interest. This allows the reader a broad understanding of the context of US policy decisions, as well as a deeper appreciation of the impact these decisions had on Hmong lives. 

The USA’s ‘secret war’ in Laos is not widely known of, a consequence of the reticence that surrounded American actions in Laos at the time and for years following the end of the war. Even less understood is the role played by the Hmong as allies of the USA, and the horrifying consequences this kinship brought. The first edition of Tragic Mountains was published in 1993; in the 1999 edition, Hamilton-Merritt’s introduction describes the moment, on 15th May 1997, when the Hmong contribution to the USA’s anti-communist fight in Indochina was finally given official recognition by members of Congress, at a procession of three thousand Hmong and Lao veterans who served under General Vang Pao. Nonetheless, Hamilton-Merritt wrote in 1999, “it is true that the identity of the Hmong people is not yet established among all US policymakers, and that the American public remains largely uninformed [about the role of the Hmong in supporting the USA in Laos]”. 

Ban Vinai was the largest Hmong refugee camp in Thailand, accommodating the thousands of Hmong who fled over the ‘Berlin Wall’ of the Mekong River that marks the border between Laos and Thailand. Following a programme agreed by Thailand, Laos and the USA in regards to these refugees, Hmong in Ban Vinai began to be forcibly repatriated to Laos without proper security measures in place to ensure that they would not automatically be pushed into ‘seminar’ forced labour camps. As recently as 2010, TIME magazine reported on the fears of Hmong refugees still living in Thailand of being forcibly returned to Laos, where sporadic insurgency by Hmong groups against the communist government has been ongoing. 

Tragic Mountains is highly commendable for its comprehensive analysis of the Hmong-CIA relationship and its terrible consequences for the Lao Hmong. I did not learn as much about Hmong society from Hamilton-Merritt’s work as I did from The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, another book written by a woman with many years of experience of the Hmong; however, it provides sufficient information on the Hmong lifestyle, character and history for an understanding of how and why this group became involved in the CIA’s covert operations and the impact this has had. Reading Tragic Mountains has significantly developed my understanding of the recent history of Laos and has opened my eyes to a shocking and shameful element of the Indochina War- the abuse and betrayal of America’s former allies, the Hmong- that continues to be overlooked and uncompensated.

Goodbye Indochina

My last days flew by and before I knew it I had left Indochina behind me. Already life in Leeds feels back to normal and it is almost as if I never went away.

I spent Saturday preparing for the presentation I was to deliver in the evening as a part of my leaving do. In the end I was not best pleased with the delivery of the presentation and felt that I could have prepared more. I hadn't applied enough genuine thought to how this experience has affected and changed me; in the days since I've done much more self-reflection and got my head around the past nine months as an entire entity- it has felt like such a lifetime that it is difficult to realise how my attitudes and outlooks have changed over the full period.

My friends came out for a meal with me after the presentation and ended up taking me to Apocalypse Now, the nightclub with the notorious reputation. I had somehow avoided it the whole time I was living in Saigon and felt I should experience it before I left. In fact it was nothing like how it had been described to me as being, and I had a really good time.

My last day in Vietnam was so busy that I didn't have time to fully take in the gravity of moving away. At the time I wished I had more time to relax, but in hindsight I was glad that I was able to keep busy as it kept the sad feelings at bay until I sat down to eat a last meal with Jessica in the evening.

In the morning I went to a Zumba class taught by my friend Huyen and later had lunch, sat outside in the sunshine with Huyen and some other friends. Then it was time for more goodbyes. I spent the afternoon desperately trying to fit everything into my two suitcases and handbag, and then angrily trying to close said suitcases and handbags. Huyen dropped by to give me the DVD of the presentation the day before, the filming of which was paid for by Yvonne, a friend who couldn't make it to the presentation itself. I've been told there is a surprise at the end of the film but I've not been able to watch it yet. Another very thoughtful gift came from my close friend Nga, who had a portrait made of me, which she inscribed with a message.

Before I knew it it was time to get my things together, make a last check of the little room that had been my home for nine months, give my parting gifts to Jessica and Thuy and get ready to say goodbye. It was very sad, especially as poor Thuy was heartbroken; I had never seen her upset before. As I stuffed my remaining things into my bag, she came into my room and presented me, red-eyed, with a plain green mug. "I bought this for you when you came, you drink from it every day, now you take it home and use it", she said solemnly. I really didn't have room to take anything else but I felt that it was such a symbolic gesture for her that I had to take the mug, which I put in my handbag.

I said the difficult goodbyes and was loaded into a taxi which took me away. It was silent in the car so I asked the driver to put the radio on on. "Vietnamese?", he asked. "Yes, good", I said. At the airport I lugged my heavy bags to be checked in. My big suitcase was even heavier than it had been when I arrived, but now I could carry it myself.

However, it was so heavy that I was told I had to remove one kilo of weight or else pay a $60 charge. This was the first of much hassle as I later had to remove scissors, a laptop and a tablet from my hand luggage and then sign something in Vietnamese which I hope was about the scissors that has been confiscated from me.

I boarded the plane and felt really sad when I saw Ho Chi Minh City disappear beneath me. I remember the sight of the city lights from when I flew in; I didn't remember how spectacularly colourful the scene was.

From then I travelled to Dubai and arrived in Manchester on a beautiful bank holiday morning, a lovely welcome home.

I am settling back into life in the UK again. I had lots of thoughtful messages from friends in Vietnam as I left the country, which I was very grateful for. It has been the most incredible experience; I think that the impact it has had on me will become more evident as my life goes on.

But although I have left Vietnam and am beginning a new chapter of my life, my project isn't over until my presentation evening in Leeds on September. I will continue to update my blog with work I have been doing towards the project. The challenge for me is not yet over and there is still much to be done. I will miss Indochina and the life I lived there. I have been so lucky to have this experience and I am incredibly grateful to Jessica for everything she has done for me. 

Last night out in Saigon. L-R: Michelle, Hien, Uyen, Nga, me, Huyen

Me with the beautiful Nga

Packing

Almost ready to go

Getting soppy

This morning I went to Hang's house as I did this time last month to help her and her neighbours to prepare food to give out at a local hospital. I took a taxi at 6.30am and found myself getting emotional looking out of the window and trying to absorb the surroundings that I will be leaving behind in two days' time. The narrow streets and tall buildings, the dark webs of telephone lines, the stacks of red pastic stools set beside peeling yellow walls, the faces of people drinking coffee on the streets, and even the motorbikes; this is the scenery I have grown to love and will soon feel millions of miles away from.

I had pulled myself together by the time I reached Hang's home in district three; it was nice to see her again. The boxes being prepared this month were rice, beancurd and vegetables served with a hot, oily plastic bag of sweet and sour soup. I helped at various points on the amateur production line that was assembled on the street outside the house, but I did struggle with the strain of sitting on a low stool in a cramped spot, leant over and working at a fast pace with the sun on my back. Hang could see I was tired and set me to the easy task of serving the food parcels from a makeshift stall set on the back of a row of motorbikes to the street workers, elderly people and children who approached us. Later I went with a few others to the same hospital in district five we visited last time to hand out some of the 750 meals that had been prepared. The experience was slightly tainted by the suspicion of Hang and her friends that a nurse who had taken a box of twenty meals to deliver to bed-bound, disabled patients had in fact taken them for the hospital staff; Hang thought the food should go to the patients and not the staff, but there was little she could do. Her friends seemed disappointed; "Charity is difficult," said Minh.

I spent the afternoon back home, working on my PowerPoint slides for tomorrow's presentation. I spent some time working in the cafe at the end of my street where I indulged in a Ca Phe Sua Da (iced Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk), one of my favourite culinary discoveries. In the evening I met up with Gretchen at Crescent Mall for a farewell dinner at Boomerang, an Australian/international restaurant. She can't attend my leaving do tomorrow as it coincides with her school prom. This farewell dinner was not at all emotional, as yesterday's with Yvonne, Jessie and Jasmine was somewhat; it was a nice, casual meal and a last chance to hang out together.

However, I got a little emotional again at home after Thuy had come to my room to present me with a little gift she had made for me, the second thing she has made for me on her sewing machine in recent weeks. I feel really close to Thuy, particularly so in the last six weeks while Jessica has been away, and I will be so sad to say goodbye to her.

First Goodbyes

Being caught up in a busy day has left me somewhat unprepared for the sad reality of saying goodbyes. I took the 8.15 bus to town this morning and was back on the bus at 10.15 after an efficient hour of making my final purchases. Back home I had my lunch and then settled down for a nap, already feeling exhausted. In the afternoon I took my bike over to Lam Van Ben for the first time in about six weeks to say goodbye to the headteacher and children at the Anh Linh school, where I volunteered for five weeks over March and April. I brought a bunch of flowers for Ms. Kim Ngoc, the school's gentle and kind headteacher, a bag full of art supplies for the school, and of course some sweets for the kids.

The school was busy with activity as I arrived, in preparation for the end-of-year performance and awards celebration tomorrow; a stage had been erected and decked with speakers, two men on ladders were stringing a canopy between the gate and the building and in the office, presents of clothing, books and book-bags for good students were being wrapped up. Kim Ngoc greeted me and several of the kids who attended my art class were pleased to see me. I befriended a few more who I hadn't met before, who clung to my arms or pushed and tickled me. After chatting with Kim Ngoc, playing with the kids and dishing out sweets I sat down to watch the rehearsal for tomorrow's show. There were several dances and songs performed very well by the kids; the highlight for me was to see Nam, the overweight boy in my class who was always so polite and shy, come into his own on the stage by dancing. He looked so comfortable and confident that it took me completely by surprise, but it was wonderful to see. I mentioned this to Kim Ngoc and she said "Yes, he loves dancing", smiling as she always does.

Introduced to Nam (centre)'s passion for dancing

Ms. Kim Ngoc 

It's a shame I won't be able to come to the celebration tomorrow but I'm glad I was able to fit in a last visit to the school. In the evening I had some more goodbyes to do as I had arranged to have dinner with Yvonne, Jasmine and Jessie, who all cannot attend my presentation and leaving do on Saturday as they are doing a triathlon in Mui Ne, the seaside town where I first met these three for the September half-marathon on my first weekend in Vietnam. I see Yvonne regularly at Zumba classes but have not spent much time at all with Jasmine and Jessie in my time here, although I really like them both. Nonetheless  they were incredibly sweet to me and the three women sat around the table asking me questions about my plans for the future and the things I've gained from this experience and how I feel I've changed etcetera, all with cocked heads and gentle smiles, watching me with sincere interest in quite a motherly way.

Towards the end of the meal I noticed that they had all become quiet and I wondered if they were getting bored. It was only afterwards that I realised that they were preparing to say goodbye to me. The finality of the parting didn't really sink into me until I saw the emotion in Yvonne's face and I wondered if I really would ever see her again. She means a lot to me as her kindness in accommodating me on the Mui Ne trip and her introduction through her Zumba class has led me to meet nearly all of the friends I have made here; she has helped me to settle in and has always been so kind and warm to me. Jessie and Jasmine too, are such lovely people and it's a shame I haven't spent more time with them. They saw me off in a taxi and repeated how sorry they were that they couldn't attend the presentation. I feel so touched by their interest in me and the kindness they've all shown to me (they didn't even let me pay my share of the bill). I do hope I will be able to see them all again. They say the world is small these days, and it will certainly be easy to stay in touch, but it's still a big enough world that you may have to walk away from somebody who has touched your heart and not know whether you will ever cross paths again.

L-R: Yvonne, me, Jasmine, Jessie

Happiness and a few nerves

Yesterday and today I have been working on my PowerPoint presentation for Saturday's leaving do. The first step of this was to have a major panic when I realised that I didn't have the PowerPoint software on my computer; the next was to download a free trial and get cracking. My foolish belief that the presentation could be completed in the best part of a day was my reason for not starting this task earlier and now, into day two, I am starting to get a little edgy. Of course, I do not want to put doubt in the minds of the people who will be attending; I am really fairly confident that it will be successful. I am just a little bit nervous, particularly as a friend who couldn't attend has generously offered to pay for a cameraman to film the event- an offer I couldn't really refuse but which I has now doubled the pressure for me!

Today we had an unplanned power-cut in the afternoon and it quickly became uncomfortably warm in the house. I took my laptop and headed to Phu My Hung to work in a cafe, but was surprised to find that the power-cut had extended to there too (I was later to learn that it affected friends across district seven and in district one and Bin Thanh). Luckily the electricity returned not long after I had arrived and the giant fan behind me charged into life with a massive gust. I really enjoyed my few hours sat in the cafe relaxing and working on my slides and I felt in an altogether good mood. This was only extended by my Zumba class in the evening, which would be was my last ever at the Tavern, and the drinks and cake I invited everyone for afterwards.

Packing

We were blessed with more beautiful weather over the weekend, with blue skies and low humidity. I made the most of it by spending Sunday afternoon inside a shopping mall, where I met up with Lisa, my one-time Vietnamese language teacher, to see Iron Man 3 with Vietnamese subtitles. Joining us were two young colleagues of Lisa's, one a woman named Thi and the other a small, geeky-looking Chinese man whose name I have forgotten (but I remember that his shirt had the words 'Your Bra' printed on the back). There were some communication issues for me as Lisa's friends didn't speak English but Lisa was kind in sticking with me and not letting me feel left out. I have developed a bit of a soft spot for her. Lisa slept through the film, which she had chosen, but I thought it was good. Afterwards I hopped on the back of Lisa's bike and the four of us headed downtown for a meal at a Vietnamese restaurant.

With Lisa at Crescent Mall

Today I started early and spent much of the day shopping for gifts and souvenirs. This started out as some fun 'me-time' -even though I wasn't buying for myself- and I enjoyed spoiling myself to some carrot cake at lunch. I was even lucky to miss a heavy downpour that occurred while I was inside the Vincom shopping centre. But by mid-afternoon I was trailing my feet, my forearm marked from carrying four big shopping bag, and felt disappointed that I hadn't managed to get everything on my list. When I stepped off the bus at home, my glasses steamed up from the hot air and I took them off, carrying them along with all my bags as I walked to the house. I was a bit embarrassed by the male police officer who politely pointed out that the spaghetti-straps of my dress had fallen down my arms (I knew), but he did offer to help me with my bags (I said no, thanks) and then decided to follow me on his bike, presumably to see that I got to my house okay (bit creepy and unnecessary).

At home I decided to get on with packing my suitcase and have now packed about three-quarters of my belongings, leaving only the things I may need for the week. My room is starting to look quite empty and it feels just a little bit sad.

Lunch stop at my favourite, Highlands Coffee

Bliss

This word was in my head today as I lay sunbathing beside the pool with a bunch of friends on a bright Saturday. A group of girls from Zumba convened here this afternoon, where much of the time was spent ripping on me for my pathetic attempts to get a tan in my last week in the country- because I feel I am too pale to justify having been in Asia for nine months and need something to show off to my mates when I get home. It's been a beautiful day today and the parks have been flocked with people; I realise how much I've been missing by staying inside most days and only appearing at night, like a vampire. In my last week I will soak up as much sun, colour and brightness as possible before my return to England, which Bill Bryson quite accurately described as like 'living under Tupperware'.

There is much to be done in my last seven days and I feel that I am just beginning to realise that coming home is not going to be the simple joy I had expected and have been looking forward to; there is a lot to be missed of my life here. This rings true particularly when Vietnamese friends ask me, "When are you coming back?" and I have to say, to their disbelief, that I don't have any plans and I don't know when I'll be able to return. So besides from getting last-minute tasks sorted, this week will be about taking time to appreciate the things around me and preparing myself to say goodbye.





P.S. Please see my updated gallery for recently-added photographs.