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Part III - 1989–2000

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  08 April 2021

Amanda C. Demmer
Affiliation:
Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University

Summary

Type
Chapter
Information
After Saigon's Fall
Refugees and US-Vietnamese Relations, 1975–2000
, pp. 163 - 233
Publisher: Cambridge University Press
Print publication year: 2021

5 Refugees and the Roadmap

On April 9, 1991, the United States presented Hanoi with a “Roadmap to US-SRV Normalization.”1 The George H. W. Bush administration issued the Roadmap to provide a “more systematic and concrete … pathway to full normalization … within a reasonably short time.”2 In many ways, the plan signaled a continuation in policy. Although the document’s specific contents remained classified until 1999, the American public and press knew that the Roadmap required the SRV to satisfy the two demands that US policy makers publicized for over a decade: facilitate a full accounting of missing American servicemen and withdrawal from Cambodia, a condition US officials expanded to include not only the physical removal of Vietnamese troops but also a political solution to the question of who would fill the power vacuum left in Hanoi’s wake. While these two concerns dominated public discussions and featured prominently in official negotiations, migration programs for South Vietnamese, especially negotiations surrounding the continued incarceration of reeducation camp detainees, remained vital to the process of US-Vietnamese normalization. US policy makers included reeducation camp prisoners in the Roadmap, and Washington and Hanoi collaborated closely on migration programs.

The Roadmap also publicly signaled that US officials expected to resume official negotiations on the status of bilateral economic and diplomatic ties, negotiations which had been suspended since 1978. The fall of the Berlin Wall in November 1989 and a political settlement that removed SRV troops from Cambodia in October 1991 created an atmosphere of flexibility and opportunity that had been absent for decades. These shifts had major consequences for US-SRV relations. As the last decade of the twentieth century opened, collaboration on both humanitarian programs and negotiations on official bilateral relations progressed in noticeable ways. These were not separate discussions. Throughout the 1980s, cooperation on humanitarian issues had been normalizing US-SRV relations, even as formal talks remained suspended. Once official negotiations reconvened, however, humanitarian issues became even further ensconced in the normalization process because American officials earmarked resolving humanitarian concerns as a precondition to more formal ties.

Far from the general, if fragile, consensus that had characterized the American approach to Vietnam during much of the 1980s, a fluid, contentious atmosphere arose as the decade came to a close. A sizable conglomerate of US business interests, for example, seized on the changing times to argue that the SRV constituted an untapped market – possibly even the next “Asian tiger” – with a preexisting appetite for American goods.3 Powerful American corporations, therefore, lobbied intensively against the embargo and criticized the lack of formal ties. Business interests clashed with the POW/MIA lobby, led by the League, which insisted that full accounting should be the only barometer for official relations.4

At the same time, Indochina-focused NGOs entered the national conversation about US-Vietnamese normalization with increasing assertiveness. While the Families of Vietnamese Political Prisoners Association (FVPPA) and the Aurora Foundation continued to be the most influential NGOs with regard to reeducation camp prisoners, elite tier resettlement agencies with government contracts and well-funded think tanks with close government ties held a series of prominent conferences and symposia on US-SRV relations. Once the question became when, and not if, Washington and Hanoi would resume formal ties, these powerful actors who had a stake in the timing and implementation of official relations became more vocal. While I will occasionally mention these groups as examples of ongoing nongovernmental advocacy, much more work needs to be done to interrogate the vast network of interested parties in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

Heated debates among American policy makers and publics in a swiftly changing geopolitical atmosphere poignantly echoed the 1975–1980 period. The similarities did not end there. While the Indochinese diaspora continued throughout the 1980s, the rate of departures, especially the number of Vietnamese fleeing their country by boat, soared at the end of the decade. The upswing in the number of oceanic migrants triggered debates about their legal status, the sanctity of first asylum, and the principle of nonrefoulment – the legal prohibition against returning refugees to the country from which they fled. As it had in the 1970s, the international community forged a multilateral response to a dramatic increase in the number of oceanic migrants. The resulting program, the Comprehensive Plan of Action (CPA), however, signaled an important shift in international norms. Screening individuals to determine their legal standing, rather than awarding all “boat people” blanket refugee status, became the core premise of the CPA.5 This new approach reflected mounting compassion fatigue and the accusation that those fleeing Vietnam were not bona fide refugees but economic migrants who did not deserve the rights, protections, or resources that international law afforded refugees.6 For “screened out” migrants – that is, for those who did not individually qualify for refugee status – the CPA prescribed voluntary repatriation, or return to Vietnam, as a first option, and forced repatriation as a last resort. The UNHCR’s support for individual screening and willingness to endorse repatriation reflected broader shifts occurring on a global scale.7

As international refugee norms changed, so did US domestic approaches. Because many individuals and institutions were involved in formulating and implementing US policy, however, changes in American practices occurred unevenly and were hotly contested. Migration scholar Maria Cristina Garcia characterizes the years between 1989 and 1992 as a “transitional period” when the fundamental assumptions that undergird US policy shifted in foundational ways. US officials and the American public “questioned the logic of assuming that those fleeing communism had more legitimate needs for protection than others” and “tensions between Congress and the White House … became particularly apparent” as the two centers of power clashed over a number of groups seeking refuge or asylum in the US, including Soviet refuseniks, Chinese students in the wake of the Tiananmen crisis, and Haitian and Cuban boat people.8 Because the US government had provided so much of the UNHCR’s funding, these disagreements reverberated far beyond American shores and reflected a larger moment of transformation in global approaches.

They also had profound implications for the US response to the ongoing Indochinese diaspora. Although Washington signed the CPA, American officials had opposed the idea of repatriating migrants to Vietnam since 1975 on the grounds that human rights violations made such a move morally untenable and unlawful. US officials were able to briefly sustain these mutually exclusive positions – supporting the CPA but condemning repatriation – but by the mid-1990s, the contradiction became too stark to ignore. As official talks on the status of formal relations between Washington and Hanoi suddenly seemed imminent, the consensus on humanitarian programs dissolved, a process which accelerated rapidly throughout the early 1990s.

Although increasingly divided, members of Congress remained crucial actors in the normalization process and in broader discussions about American foreign relations. As historian Christopher Maynard has noted, the “formulation of foreign policy in the Bush administration centered on the National Security Council,” which focused the preponderant amount of its attention on the collapse of the Soviet Union, democratization in Eastern Europe, reunification in Germany, the termination of the Warsaw Pact, and events in the Persian Gulf.9 It is this prioritization that led Robert D. Schulzinger to argue that the Bush administration remained “preoccupied” with events in Europe, and “Asian issues generally, and Southeast Asia in particular, receded.”10 When one takes into account migration issues and congressional foreign policy initiatives, however, this picture changes dramatically. As they had done for more than a decade, legislators played a definitive role in crafting US policy toward SRV, acting both as an accelerant and a break to closer ties. Although the White House intervened in key moments, one must look to Capitol Hill to appreciate the full expanse of steps the United States and SRV took toward normalization during the Bush years.

The majority of these steps included responding to and facilitating the emigration of South Vietnamese from Vietnam to the United States. In particular, as the Cold War deescalated, Washington and Hanoi reached major milestones with regard to reeducation camp detainees. The two governments signed a bilateral accord that provided for the detainees’ migration, the Humanitarian Operation (HO) Agreement in 1989, former reeducation camp prisoners and their close family members began arriving in the United States under the new program in 1990, and Hanoi released the last detainees in 1992. The FVPPA and the Aurora Foundation continued to assemble information and provide momentum for these policy advancements. Thanks in part to this ongoing advocacy, migration issues facilitated deepening US-Vietnamese ties, even as the governments cautiously restarted thorny conversations about official bilateral relations.

Formulating the Comprehensive Plan of Action and Humanitarian Operation

By 1989, the FVPPA cemented its place as a key source of transnational advocacy and information on Vietnamese reeducation camp detainees. The organization’s stature belied its modest resources. The Association had to pay for its only Xerox machine on installments, and Tho and her fellow activists all held day jobs to pay their bills.11 The FVPPA operated out of Tho’s home in Falls Church, VA for the entirety of its existence, and community members dubbed her personal residence “the refugee center.”12 During the heyday of the Association’s activities, Tho recalled working feverishly on FVPPA business over her lunch break, asking friends to drive her to Capitol Hill because she did not own a car, and staying up all hours of the night to respond to incoming calls and mail, which originated from all corners of the Vietnamese diaspora and from some of the most powerful offices in Washington, DC.13 It is clear that the growing Vietnamese American community recognized the FVPPA’s prominence. When Tho traveled to California in January 1989, for instance, she held meetings with various Vietnamese American organizations and gave speeches explaining the current status of US reeducation camp policy to more than two hundred people.14

In May, the FVPPA joined with five other Vietnamese American organizations to form the National Congress of Vietnamese in America. The goal of this organization was to “prepare to receive Vietnamese re-education centers detainees who,” they hoped, would be “accepted for resettlement by the United States Government in the near future.”15 It is noteworthy that this umbrella organization appointed Tho as the head of the Subcommittee in charge of Congressional and Governmental Liaison.16 Given the FVPPA’s extensive government contacts, Tho was a logical choice; yet, the fact that all the other organizational heads – men raised in a highly patriarchal and deferential Vietnamese culture – appointed Tho to that position emphasizes the extent to which leaders in the Vietnamese American community found the FVPPA too important to ignore.

The FVPPA’s network extended far beyond other Vietnamese American organizations; the Association also collaborated with some of the most well-known human rights and humanitarian NGOs of the era. While Amnesty International (AI) built its reputation on the quality of its global information network, AI’s London headquarters regularly wrote to the FVPPA when it needed information on Vietnamese reeducation detainees.17 The Red Cross and other NGOs also came to the FVPPA when they needed information on reeducation camp prisoners or the Vietnamese American community.18 Vietnamese Americans, human rights and humanitarian NGOs, and the US government all recognized the FVPPA’s importance.

So did Hanoi. In March 1989 the SRV Ambassador to the United Nations “requested to set up a meeting” with Tho “to discuss issues and concerns we have regarding the political prisoners.”19 The always tactful Tho wrote to her good friend, Senior Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for Refugee Programs Robert Funseth, to “touch base” before she met with the Ambassador to ensure they presented “a united” front.20 Tho and a few of her associates met with Funseth on April 8 and then with the SRV Ambassador in New York less than a week later.21 That the SRV wished to meet with the FVPPA’s leadership – even as formal US-Vietnamese negotiations on reeducation camp prisoners remained suspended – demonstrates that Hanoi recognized the Association’s importance to the American stance on the issue. This is certainly the takeaway that Tho took from the invitation. “This meeting was significant because [the] Ambassador respect[ed] our voice and our standing as an organization working with [the] US government on behalf of political prisoners,” she recalled decades later, adding the meeting lasted two hours “so we talk[ed] about everything,” most prominently, the pains of family separation. The FVPPA’s key message to the SRV delegation was “fourteen years was enough.”22 Although Tho never accompanied Funseth on his trips to Geneva and Hanoi like the League’s Ann Mills Griffiths, this meeting at the UN suggests Hanoi saw the parity between the organizations and tried to address them both.

As the FVPPA expanded its influence, the ongoing exodus of oceanic migrants surged dramatically. Over 96,000 individuals reached the shores of first asylum in the first six months of 1989. The ASEAN states, who had acted as nations of first asylum for fourteen years, began to implement drastic measures, clamored for another international conference, and called on the SRV to expand the Orderly Departure Program (ODP) to provide an alternative exit route for migrants.23 When an international conference was not immediately forthcoming, the nations of first asylum and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) began meeting on their own and drafted what would eventually become the Comprehensive Plan of Action (CPA).

Screening for refugee status, rather than a blanket application of that status for all oceanic migrants originating from Vietnam, became a core component of the CPA. The signatory nations agreed that this momentous change would go into effect on March 14, 1989.24 Those who arrived before the cutoff date would automatically receive refugee status; the nations of first asylum would individually screen those who arrived thereafter to determine their standing. A combination of compassion fatigue, limited resources, and a surge in numbers thus reinvigorated old debates about who deserved refugee status and who got to decide.

These debates occurred not only among Southeast Asian states of first asylum but also within the American bureaucracy. After decades of appropriating large budgets for refugee resettlement, the thawing of the Cold War invited a larger rethinking of previous practices, a process that was accelerated by a variety of factors. These included increasing scrutiny and criticism from domestic political actors, congressional activism aimed to reduce refugee admissions, and a growing number of asylum petitions filed from migrants on US territory.25 In this context, Garcia explains, “the days of granting automatic refugee or parolee status,” especially to large groups, “were coming to an end” in favor of a “case-by-case” approach.26

Nearly fifteen years after the fall of Saigon and Phnom Penh, the ASEAN argued that the majority of the Indochinese who reached their shores were economic migrants rather than bona fide refugees. Because the ASEAN were not signatories to the international conventions regarding refugees, they were not legally obliged to honor the principle of nonrefoulement. The CPA draft thus noted with regard to rejected applicants that “every effort will be made to encourage the voluntary return of such persons,” but the implication was clear – while voluntary repatriation would be preferred, ASEAN nations were not opposed to forced repatriation.27 It is in this context that seventy nations, including the United States, agreed to attend a second Geneva Conference on Indochinese Refugees scheduled for June 1989.

Reeducation camp prisoners occupied an important place in the American approach to the renewed migrant surge. Indeed, the exodus of oceanic migrants and the plight of reeducation detainees had always been linked. Prior to a US-SRV bilateral agreement on the issue, Hanoi refused to allow the vast majority of former reeducation camp detainees to emigrate through the ODP, despite official assurances otherwise. Only 600 former reeducation detainees and 2,400 of their family members had resettled in the United States through the ODP by June 1989.28 As Hanoi released tens of thousands of detainees in the late 1980s, these individuals faced anew the challenge of how to pursue a better life. They faced unenviable choices. They could consign themselves to life in Vietnam, enduring the discrimination that often followed former detainees and their families, they could wait in the hope that Hanoi would eventually allow them to emigrate abroad legally; or, they could leave unlawfully under the dangerous conditions that always accompanied oceanic flight or overland migration.29 Many former reeducation camp prisoners chose the latter option, entangling Hanoi’s reeducation camp policy with the ODP and oceanic flight in American policy makers’ minds.

Ginetta Sagan and Khuc Minh Tho went to great lengths to ensure that US officials were aware of these connections. Sagan, for example, testified before the Congressional Human Rights Caucus about what she argued could only be understood as Hanoi’s continued violation of its citizens’ human rights.30 Tho wrote to Funseth in late May, before his departure to Geneva, to ask that he “put pressure on the SRV to resume technical talks regarding the movement of ex-reeducation camp detainees, and the release of the rest of the political prisoners.”31 She also suggested that previous incarceration in a reeducation camp or status as the child of a reeducation camp detainee be taken into account during the refugee screening process. While not all oceanic migrants were former reeducation camp prisoners, US policy makers emphasized the connection.

Both houses of Congress passed resolutions that denounced Hanoi’s reeducation camp policy and called for the detainees’ release and resettlement. While these measures were nonbinding and had no authority to compel Hanoi to act, their symbolic value remained high. In June 1989, Representative Frank Wolf (R-VA), a former Army reservist, introduced H. Con. Res. 113, which called on the SRV to “1) make public the names of all individuals who continue to be held in ‘reeducation’ camps; 2) immediately release all prisoners detained for their religious or political beliefs; and 3) resume negotiations with the United States concerning the emigration of current and former detainees and their families.”32 Wolf noted with satisfaction that the resolution received the unanimous approval of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, a display of support that he suggested “shows just how important it is to the Congress that Vietnam demonstrate a greater commitment to human rights.”33 The resolution also tied progress on the reeducation camp issue to the formal status of US-Vietnamese relations. “The willingness of the Government of Vietnam to satisfactorily resolve this humanitarian issue,” H. Con. Res. 133 declared, “will have an important bearing on the relationship between Vietnam and the United States.”34 Given the influential role legislators played hitherto in the normalization process, these words were far from an empty threat. Wolf’s explanation and the resolution’s phrasing, which entangled and conflated human rights and humanitarian rhetoric, also reflected larger trends.

Senator Rudy Boschwitz (R-MN) spearheaded the effort to shepherd S. Con. Res. 16, a duplicate of H. Con. Res. 113, through the Senate. Boschwitz, who was a refugee himself and had labored in favor of South Vietnamese refugee admissions for over a decade, echoed his colleague’s sentiments, noting that the “2,000 prisoners languishing” in the reeducation camps and former detainees were an American priority because “these people paid dearly for their affiliation with the US” and because many “have relatives in the US. For these relatives, every day is filled with anxiety and despair over the fate of their loved ones.”35 The moral one-two punch of Ford’s “profound moral obligation” argument and the exigencies of family separation continued to inspire strong bipartisan consensus with regard to reeducation camp detainees. The measure passed both houses of Congress, just as State Department officials prepared to depart for the Geneva Conference, and US negotiators ensured the resolutions did not go unnoticed by their SRV counterparts.

By echoing legislators’ demands, US diplomats infused real power and consequences into Congress’ nonbinding resolutions. When addressing the seventy national delegations that attended the Geneva Conference, US Deputy Secretary of State Lawrence Eagleburger sent Hanoi a clear message: “The world looks to Vietnam to provide full opportunity for resettlement to those who have been detained in reeducation camps. Nothing the Socialist Republic of Vietnam could do in this area would be more favorably received by the United States and the international community.”36 In other words, while ASEAN and the UNHCR focused their attention on crafting a policy (the CPA) to address migrants who had already fled Vietnam, US policy makers called on Hanoi to expand emigration opportunities for those still in the SRV (though the ODP), especially reeducation camp prisoners. Eagleburger argued that the ODP would constitute a “true alternative to clandestine departure” only when Hanoi permitted former reeducation camp detainees and their families to use the program.37 It is likely that these ongoing pressures contributed to Hanoi’s decision to agree to resume formal negotiations on reeducation camp migration in July.38

The change in international responses and US leadership between 1979 and 1989 is striking. In 1979, it was Vice President Mondale who represented the United States at the UNHCR’s conference devoted to Indochinese refugees. While still not the same as a presidential appearance, Mondale’s physical presence spoke volumes about increasing US support for blanket refugee status for Vietnamese migrants and for the multilateral ODP. US leadership manifest in rhetoric, resettlement slots, and financial assistance. By altering US domestic law to match the international definition of refugee, moreover, US officials created additional continuity between domestic and international refugee regimes. By 1989, the scene had changed. Instead of pressuring other nations to embrace resettlement, US officials – headed, this time, by the Deputy Secretary of State – both supported and furthered the global shift toward individual screening and repatriation.

At the 1989 Geneva Conference, the international community forged a meaningful but fragile consensus in response to surging oceanic departures and substantive long-stayer populations in Southeast Asia. All nations present consented to the Comprehensive Plan of Action, including the new screening process.39 Because the UNHCR did not have the money or manpower to individually screen migrants, it passed the task to the nations of first asylum. Although the UNHCR was supposed to provide oversight and training, the screening procedures varied drastically from country to country and even among screening officers in the same state.40 First asylum nations, in short, “were largely not equipped” to handle the responsibilities entrusted to them, and in many cases turned to their militaries to oversee the process.41 Ultimately, just under 30 percent of Vietnamese applicants received refugee status through the CPA.42

Eagleburger pledged American support for the CPA and announced the United States would take concrete steps to contribute to the program, both directly and indirectly. He vowed the US would “assign additional personnel” to the ODP which, he estimated, would permit the rate of exit interviews for potential migrants to “more than doubled to 3,500 per month.”43 He also promised that the United States would resettle 22,000 of the oceanic migrants who arrived in first asylum nations prior to March 1989 and therefore received automatic refugee status. Finally, he pledged to his international counterparts that the United States would accept “up to 50%” of those who received refugee status through the CPA’s screening process.44 This commitment to expanded resettlement for South Vietnamese with familial or employment ties to the United States dated back to 1975.

US officials, however, immediately made their selective support of the CPA known. Just as American policy makers would soon express dramatically divergent opinions about US-SRV relations and the related humanitarian programs, US officials harbored very different opinions about changing refugee norms. A press release published by Funseth’s office, for example, praised the maintenance of first asylum and Hanoi’s commitment to “expand legal emigration” under the ODP.45 The same press release, however, emphasized the United States’ “unalterable opposition to forced repatriation to Vietnam unless and until dramatic improvements occur in that country’s economic, political and social life.”46 Many influential voices in the United States still argued that human rights violations in the SRV were widespread enough to make repatriation impossible – and illegal – under the principle of nonrefoulment. Funseth’s office was sure to belabor the point, adding “there has been no compromise in this position [on repatriation] at this Conference, despite press reports to the contrary.”47 Vietnamese American activists also joined the chorus of voices in the United States who condemned the CPA and its new screening and repatriation procedures.48

Like the American position on US-Vietnamese normalization more broadly, then, US officials assumed conflicting positions with regards to the CPA that ultimately proved irreconcilable. By pledging American support for the CPA and declaring US unwillingness to support forced repatriation, one of the CPA’s core provisions, policy makers set the stage for future conflicts in Washington. When the CPA drew to a close during the mid-1990s, vociferous debates erupted over how to reconcile two mutually exclusive policy stances. In the meantime, US officials endorsed the CPA and opposed repatriation without having to address the contradiction. Although US support for the CPA and opposition of forced repatriation to Vietnam were ultimately untenable in terms of policy implementation, the positions were mutually reinforcing in their propaganda value. Both stances permitted American policy makers to extol the United States’ humanitarian and moral responses to oceanic migrants while condemning Hanoi, which reinforced the American position of isolating the SRV and “bleeding” it into submission.

At the same time, however, US officials insisted that Hanoi collaborate on humanitarian issues. As Washington and Hanoi agreed in Geneva, the two sides formally resumed their negotiations on the emigration of reeducation camp detainees in July 1989, with Funseth leading the US delegation.49 This time, the meeting brought tangible results. The plenipotentiaries signed a bilateral agreement on July 29 that came to be known as the Humanitarian Operation (HO) agreement. As a joint press statement explained, the HO program stemmed from a desire to solve “one of the issues of mutual concern to the two countries” and to follow through on “commitments undertaken” for the Comprehensive Plan of Action.50

The signing of the HO agreement marked a major milestone.51 Although US officials had been lobbying for the reeducation detainees’ release and resettlement abroad throughout the 1980s, this issue had stood at an impasse even as Washington and Hanoi negotiated and implemented programs for the so-called boat people (the ODP) and Amerasians (the 1982 AIA and 1987 AHA). Like these other programs, the HO offered a special path to resettlement outside of regular channels. To be eligible for the HO program, one had to be a current or released reeducation center detainee who had spent at least three years in a reeducation camp and was “closely associated with the United States.” The “close relatives” of reeducation detainees, including spouses and unmarried children, were also eligible for emigration. This provision for unmarried children was, like the HO program itself, an exception made to US law – a special extension within a loophole – to acknowledge the unique and ongoing relationship between the American and South Vietnamese peoples. It was common practice at the time for US migration programs to limit qualifying “close family members” to spouses and unmarried children under the age of twenty-one. Permitting former reeducation detainees to bring their unmarried children, regardless of age, recognized pragmatic realities: the children of those who had been incarcerated for decades would have necessarily been more than twenty-one years old. The same provision, however, marked only the most recent example of American officials creating exceptions for South Vietnamese.

Khuc Minh Tho did not learn about the HO program by reading about it in the newspaper or seeing it on the news. After signing the HO agreement, Funseth called his wife, Marilyn, to tell her the good news. He asked Marilyn to call Tho and inform her the agreement for which she had labored so long had finally come to pass. Tho was therefore one of the first to know about the HO program and was likely informed before most US officials. One can still hear the happiness in Tho’s voice as she recalled the memory of that phone call over a decade later.52 The symbolism of this small act of joy and courtesy is emblematic of the tight bonds nonexecutive actors formed after years of collaboration. It is clear that the FVPPA and the Funseths formed strong connections that made their advocacy a joint, emotional experience for all. In addition to frequently meeting on Saturdays, the Association regularly sent Funseth a birthday card and, on at least one occasion, sent Marilyn a Mother’s Day card.53 For the FVPPA, family clearly included both blood relatives and adopted, honorary family members like the Funseths. After hanging up with Marilyn, for example, Tho immediately began planning a greeting party to welcome Funseth when he landed at the airport. The celebrations did not end there.

The HO program was the centerpiece of the FVPPA’s annual dinner and music appreciation on August 5, 1989. As had become customary for FVPPA events, the audience included not only Vietnamese Americans but also officials from the State Department, NSC, and Congress. Funseth gave the keynote address and expressed his hope that the accord “will come to be seen as a historic and humanitarian agreement to bring about the long awaited and long overdue reunification and resettlement of reeducation center detainees with their families.”54 When explaining the “history of the negotiations,” Funseth told the audience, “first and foremost, your steadfast support encouraged me to persist in these negotiations until we reached our goal.”55

In addition to recognizing the importance of the Indochina Resource Action Center and the Overseas Vietnamese Church Conference, Funseth discussed the FVPPA with especially glowing praise. “This Association,” Funseth continued, “has provided an important service for families who are trying to bring their relatives to the United States from Vietnam. They maintain files on some 10,000 people in Vietnam, including about 7,000 reeducation center detainees” and their family members.56 The FVPPA’s access to a vast transnational network – the “Vietnamese grapevine” – made the information the Association collected especially valuable to the US government.57 As Funseth acknowledged in his speech, “Mrs. Khuc Minh Tho and her friends meet with my staff every week in the evening to review individual cases.”58

Other US officials were similarly enthusiastic as Funseth about the FVPPA’s advocacy. As NSC Director of Policy Development Blair Dorminey reassured the audience, “Your loved ones, your compatriots, are not forgotten at the White House. We intend to keep this issue [reeducation camp detainees] at the forefront of our agenda with Vietnam.”59 Dorminey vowed to fight for the release of “every prisoner still incarcerated,” to follow through on the Reagan administration’s 1984 pledge to resettle former detainees and their families in the United States. The NSC official also offered a hint at the broader discussions which would soon characterize US-SRV dialogue when he promised to advocate for “the human rights of those political prisoners who are released and who choose not to emigrate.”60

Debating Humanitarian Issues in Changing Circumstances

While FVPPA had much to celebrate with the signing of the HO agreement, the viability of the just-negotiated CPA was already in doubt by the fall of 1989. As a September congressional memorandum explained, “key provisions of the CPA are in trouble.”61 Members of Congress, especially those with ties to refugee issues and, increasingly, Vietnam War veterans, urged the administration to respond. Rudy Boschwitz, Claiborne Pell, John Kerry, John McCain, Richard Lugar, and others wrote to Secretary of State Baker on the eve of the October Steering Conference – a prescheduled meeting to discuss the implementation of the CPA – to express their concern. The senators began their letter by highlighting “the urgent need for swift and decisive US leadership.”62 They described the upcoming meeting as “pivotal,” explaining that many “discouraging developments,” including Malaysian pushbacks, Thai threats to close their borders, and “arbitrary and slow” screening in Hong Kong underscored “the need for strong US action.” When the Secretary of State did not heed the senators’ warning, officials forcibly repatriated migrants from Hong Kong, a move that drew condemnation from Amnesty International, the FVPPA, and many congressmen.63

Ginetta Sagan’s Aurora Foundation also actively joined the conversation. Although she began sending advanced copies of her updated publication, Report on the Violations of Human Rights in the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, April 1975–December 1988, in August, Sagan’s new study technically debuted in November 1989.64 The report expanded on the 1984 edition using the same methodology: interviews with refugees. For the new report, Sagan and her colleagues interviewed 800 former reeducation camp detainees in the United States, Europe, and the Philippines.65 Sagan continued to use Amnesty methods and language even as she operated outside of AI and AIUSA auspices. The press release that accompanied the report, for example, censured the SRV for detaining “many innocent Prisoners of Conscience in defiance of international Human Rights standards.”66 The release also posited that “it is the fear of internment which prompts many Vietnamese still to flee the country.”67 As Sagan explained in a letter to the New York Times Magazine, “there is no question that some refugees escape for economic reasons … but many [especially former detainees] fear the constant surveillance, inability of their children to obtain an education above the elementary grades, and sometime[s] being forced to move to ‘New Economic Zones.’”68

In other words, Sagan believed the vast majority of oceanic migrants had a well-founded fear of persecution and therefore deserved refugee status. As in the late 1970s, she felt the international community underestimated the severity of human rights violations in the SRV. Sagan sent her report to Bush and to leaders of countries that had accepted large numbers of refugees, including Australia, France, Canada, and Great Britain.69 After the Report’s debut, the Foundation reported that “individuals, agencies and organizations who work with human rights and refugee issues, both nationally and internationally” all “flooded” Sagan with requests for copies.70 Both the Aurora Foundation and the FVPPA, then, continued to provide vital information that other institutions were either unwilling or unable to amass.

In midst of continued domestic and international discussion of migration issues, the US position on POW/MIAs shifted subtly yet significantly. On the surface, things looked the same. Bush sought to achieve “MIA continuity” and thus reappointed General John Vessey as his “Special Emissary” to Hanoi. Bush and his team, however, approached POW/MIA accounting without what Michael Allen calls the “deep-seated grievances over the Vietnam War that had once emanated from the Reagan White House.”71 This different mindset facilitated increased cooperation and more realistic, if still extraordinary, American demands. As State Department officials attended the Steering Meeting, for example, Vessey met with SRV officials in Hanoi. These discussions produced results: “field activities [in Vietnam] continued at an all-time high, with crash-site visits and interviews throughout the year, resulting in the identification of thirty-three Americans” in Bush’s first year in office.72 In November, Bush publicly applauded Hanoi’s “stepped-up spirit of cooperation,” and dismissed the idea of the SRV “government holding facilities for [American] remains,” a longtime article of faith among many MIA activists.73

In stark contrast to Reagan, who had given activists the benefit of the doubt and put the burden of proof on Hanoi to disprove accusations, Bush rejected POW/MIA activists’ claims when there was no evidence to support them. This approach splintered the already fractured POW/MIA lobby into competing groups, some of which supported and believed the president’s claims, while others felt Bush’s approach abdicated the government’s responsibility to POW/MIA families. Turnover in official positions also weakened the League’s relative lobbying power. Although Griffiths retained her place on the Interagency Task Force, her close allies Richard Childress and Richard Armitage lost their seats, which diminished Griffith’s ability to influence official policy.74 These dynamics created conditions that enabled Bush to attempt to move forward on POW/MIA accounting in a way that his predecessor could or would not.

The dramatic events of November 1989 and the reverberations they created only added to that sense of possibility. On November 9, 1989, citizens of East Berlin scaled the Berlin Wall, signaling the death knell of the Cold War.75 The 1989 revolutions that swept throughout Eastern Europe and the recognition that the Soviet Union and international communism no longer posed a significant threat to American interests or national security invited the Bush administration, on a much larger scale, to reject decades’ old assumptions about American foreign policy.

Regional trends only added to the possibilities created by international events. The five permanent members of the United Nations Security Council met every other month in the first half of 1990 to devise a UN-led solution to the question of political power in Cambodia after ASEAN-led initiatives proved unworkable.76 In July, congressional and human rights activists scored a major victory when US Secretary of State James Baker announced the United States would cut off its funds to the rebel coalition, which included supporting the genocidal Khmer Rouge.77 Finally, the US ceased supporting the regime that Carter labeled “the worst violator of human rights in the world today.”78 The following month, the Security Council published an agreement enumerating a framework for regime change in Phnom Penh.79 With these breakthroughs, the two conditions which American officials argued made official normalization talks impossible – Vietnamese occupation of Cambodia and POW/MIA accounting – both began to seem less formidable barriers to formal relations. Like US policy on a broad scale, then, American officials had the opportunity to reconsider their approach to the SRV as conditions transformed abruptly.

Progress on humanitarian issues, which had been normalizing relations despite the contradictions in US policy, meanwhile, proceeded apace. In January 1990, the first former reeducation camp detainees arrived in the United States through the HO program. The FVPPA had been preparing for the moment for months; as always, the Association worked closely with government officials. The Association was an active member of a “joint public/private task force” established “to help with the resettlement of former reeducation center detainees.”80 Tho had the honor of giving the keynote address during the first symposium.81 Senator Art Torres (D-CA), chairman of that meeting, wrote to Tho to thank her for attending, adding, “It was so good to meet you after all I have heard about your successful advocacy efforts.”82 That this statement of admiration and appreciation ran from a male congressman to a female nongovernmental advocate and refugee, and not the other way around, demonstrates the FVPPA’s institutional power and Tho’s pervasive personal influence.

The arrival of the first former reeducation camp detainees and their families through the HO program represented more than a milestone in US policy; it was a momentous occasion for Vietnamese American communities. Ultimately, more than 167,000 traveled through the program.83 This significant influx not only increased the size of diasporic communities in the United States; it also changed their character. Tuan Hoang has shown that the arrival of former reeducation camp prisoners and their families, whose lives were inexorably shaped by the “carceral experience,” prompted a surge in “anticommunist activism.”84 The HO program remained open through the early twenty-first century and, thanks in large part to the FVPPA’s efforts, the number of eligible individuals expanded rather than contracted during the program’s existence.85

FVPPA’s relationship with Vietnamese American anticommunism is thus paradoxical. The Association championed increased US-SRV ties for the specific purpose of securing the detainees’ release and resettlement. Those contacts and negotiations, however, contributed to the normalizing of relations in a much broader sense. At the same time, however, by helping to facilitate the resettlement of such a large number of former detainees and their families in the United States, the FVPPA helped create the conditions that led to a surge in diasporic opposition to the very ties – US-SRV collaboration – that facilitated the former detainees’ emigration in the first place.

Even after the first detainees began arriving through the HO program in January of 1990, Tho and her associates still fought persistently to expand ODP quotas for reeducation detainees and to make the program as inclusive as possible.86 In addition to highlighting the plight of former reeducation detainees, FVPPA also lobbied to make the resettlement program available to the wives and children of detainees who died while imprisoned, an effort that would have a major impact. According to Sagan’s updated Report, the reeducation camps had a 10 percent mortality rate between 1975 and 1979.87 While having reason to celebrate, then, the FVPPA still had much it wished to accomplish.

Those concerned about the maintenance of first asylum in Southeast Asia also faced an uphill battle. Conditions had deteriorated enough that the Subcommittee on Asian and Pacific Affairs of the House’s Committee on Foreign Affairs held hearings on the surge in oceanic departures in July 1990. Lionel A. Rosenblatt, the Executive Director of an NGO called Refugees International, pulled no punches. He argued that the “crisis of first asylum for Vietnamese refugees” had reached such proportions that the world had only seen “one other instance of this gravity, in 1979.”88 He noted the Malaysia pushback policy – which forced at least eight thousand souls back to sea – as the most “immediate problem” but argued of “even greater concern is the threat by all the ASEAN asylum countries to follow the Malaysian lead and abandon first asylum in July or thereafter.”89 In testimony that contained strong echoes of the Citizens Commission on Indochinese Refugees’ indictment of Carter, Rosenblatt lamented “the Administration stands firm against mandatory repatriation, without providing the necessary leadership to sustain first asylum,” and explicitly called “on President Bush and the Administration for active leadership to sustain the CPA before it is too late.”90 As Representative Stephen J. Solarz (D-NY) opined in a letter to Bush: “I believe that only your personal intervention and leadership can prevent the recurrence of such a humanitarian and foreign policy disaster.”91

The legality of repatriation hinged on one’s assessment of internal SRV conditions. Since 1975, American policy makers had consistently argued that Hanoi’s human rights violations made repatriation unethical and unlawful. Representative Frank Wolf, for example, cautioned that although some former reeducation camp detainees and their families had settled in the United States, “thousands remain” in Vietnam, including “a great many of those trying to flee … in desperation and without hope for their integration into a society which, fifteen years after the Vietnam conflict, has failed to institute basic human rights protections.”92 NSC officials also echoed this assessment. When speaking at the FVPPA’s Annual Dinner, for example, Dorminey noted the “grim” conditions inside Vietnam, and made his opposition to repatriation known when he explained: “we may expect that large numbers of Vietnamese will continue to choose to leave Vietnam – and who can blame them for leaving a country that offers little except repression and hardship.”93

Although many in the US government still opposed repatriating migrants to Vietnam, the Bush administration proceeded with support for the CPA in a July 1990 ASEAN Post-Ministerial Conference in Indonesia. This position reflected both the personal proclivities of the president and the wider changes occurring within the US bureaucracy. “Bush,” Garcia explains, “personally resisted the idea of granting automatic refugee or parole status to those fleeing countries transitioning from communism.” At the same time, however, the president honored the “humanitarian obligation to those populations championed by his predecessor,” often trying to “find a middle way to reconcile” these various impulses.94 Thus, while Bush maintained the long-articulated US commitment to former reeducation camp detainees and their families which came to fruition in the 1989 HO program, his administration also supported the CPA’s case-by-case approach and embrace of repatriation to the SRV for screened-out migrants. While in Jakarta, therefore, Secretary of State Baker proclaimed American support for a “multilateral pledge to undertake ‘best efforts’ to accomplish the return [to Vietnam] or resettlement of all Vietnamese asylum seekers by the end of 1992.”95 While the many members of the US bureaucracy who had an input in the formulation and implementation of American policy remained deeply opposed to repatriation, Baker’s announcement signaled the administration’s intention to fully support the CPA, including repatriation.

The promises Baker offered in July of 1990, combined with assurances of high US resettlement numbers for long-stayer populations, prompted the ASEAN Foreign Ministers to confirm their commitment to the CPA and cease pushback policies.96 In October, during the annual congressional consultation hearings required by the Refugee Act of 1980, the administration proposed 52,000 slots to be devoted to the Orderly Departure Program and First Asylum for East Asia for FY 1991, in addition to a “substantial increase” in the anticipated number of “immigrant petitions” through the ODP because many South Vietnamese had obtained US citizenship.97

Among those who arrived in the United States in 1990 was Khuc Minh Tho’s oldest daughter.98 Fifteen years had eclipsed since the fall of Saigon, and due to Tho’s employment in the Philippines from 1972 to 1975, eighteen years had passed since the pair lived in the same country. This was literally more than half a lifetime for Tho’s thirty-one-year-old daughter. Despite all of the time lost, Tho had reason to rejoice; in 1990, she was reunited with all three children for the first time since they were young. While FVPPA records do not contain Tho’s personal reflections on this long-awaited moment, one imagines that she must have felt a sense of fulfillment and joy that had eluded her for years and a deep pleasure in knowing that she found a way, amid war, upheaval, and separation, to keep the vow she had made to her first husband after his death that she would find a way to take care of their family. At the same time, the organization she headed helped facilitate similar reunifications for thousands of other families. Although this task – and the promise that she had made to her friend to try to find a way to free their husbands from reeducation camps – remained unfinished, for the first time in a decade, Tho had reason to be truly optimistic that she could soon bring that effort to a conclusion as well.

Endings and Beginnings

At the May 1990 annual meeting of the Aurora Foundation’s Board of Directors, Ginetta Sagan announced that she planned to close the organization. The meeting minutes reflect that Sagan expressed her desire to “close Aurora but still be available to help out in emergencies by using her vast network of contacts.”99 The sixty-five-year-old Sagan, who never fully recovered from injuries she received in a car accident in Poland in the late 1980s, reported to her colleagues that her work with the Aurora Foundation had “been time consuming, energy demanding and rewarding” and she now planned to “devote time to her book.”100 The May 1990 meeting did not mark the end of Sagan’s advocacy on behalf of political prisoners in Vietnam or elsewhere, but thereafter her interventions were far fewer. The accolades Sagan would receive for her decades of human rights activism, however, were just beginning.

As Sagan brought a significant chapter of her life to a close, the United States and SRV turned a new page in their bilateral relations. In September 1990, Secretary of State Baker and SRV Foreign Minister Nguyen Co Thach met in New York City, marking “the highest-level discussions between the two nations since 1973.”101 Baker thanked Thach for his cooperation in Cambodia, for the continued progress on POW/MIAs, and also invited him to come to Washington the following month for continued discussions.102

The offer marked another major milestone. While US officials – Vessey, State Department officials like Robert Funseth, NSC figures like Richard Childress, and even NGO representatives like Ann Mills Griffiths – had all been to Hanoi many times to discuss humanitarian concerns, SRV officials had yet to travel to Washington in the post-1975 era. In fact, SRV representatives in New York City for United Nations meetings were restricted to a twenty-five-mile radius of the UN building, and thus could not even travel to DC as tourists. A November 1988 policy review had earmarked inviting SRV leaders to the US capital as a possible reward for “progress in our humanitarian dialogue with Vietnam.”103 It seems Hanoi interpreted the invitation in precisely that way. The same month that American policy makers extended the invitation, Thach announced that Vietnam would release all remaining reeducation detainees – which Hanoi put at one hundred – by the spring of 1991.104

Many observers correctly noted that these advancements represented a swift and significant improvement in US-Vietnamese relations and called on Washington and Hanoi to accelerate the resumption of formal ties. In late summer, an impressive group of NGOs assembled in New York City to “discuss recent developments in the region and to consider policy options.”105 Among the eighteen NGOs present were some of the most influential in facilitating refugee resettlement, including representatives from Catholic, Lutheran, and Episcopal groups. Institutions like the AFL-CIO, Tolstoy Foundation, Indochina Resource Action Center, Institute for Democracy in Vietnam, United States Committee for Refugees, World Relief, Agency International, and World Vision also attended. These organizations sent a joint letter to Bush and Baker, calling on them to “start a political dialogue” with Vietnam “that includes all facets of bilateral relationship – trade, development and human rights, including free speech and religious freedom.”106 Citing the “recent dramatic developments in central and eastern Europe,” the NGOs argued “that increased economic, cultural, political and diplomatic contact can foster positive internal change.”

The NGOs also wrote to the Vietnamese Council of State. They argued that the SRV “holds the key” to resuming full economic and diplomatic relations.107 After praising Hanoi’s cooperation in Cambodia, the NGOs noted that there were other “reforms which would … undoubtedly expedite the process of normalization.”108 These included “1) releasing all remaining re-education camp detainees and other prisoners of conscience, and allowing them to emigrate”; “2) abolishing criminal code provisions against unauthorized departures and facilitating the reintegration” of repatriates “without penalty or discrimination”; and “3) permitting greater latitude in exercise of basic freedoms including religious liberty and the expression of views.”109 The NGOs took pains to applaud existing reform measures and acknowledged that their requests, especially the last recommendation, “must be part of a process” and take time. That so many well-informed, influential organizations put forth these types of recommendations in October of 1990 demonstrates the sense of possibility and opportunity that infused that historical moment.

Members of Congress also took notice. McCain, in particular, took pains to record his view on the topic of “a new relationship with Vietnam” in the Congressional Record. He disagreed with the coalition of NGOs in several fundamental respects. The Senator argued that the high-level meeting in New York and Thach’s trip to Washington “should complete for the time being the administration’s series of symbolic gestures toward Vietnam.”110 After mentioning his abortive attempt to establish interest sections in 1988, he suggested that the fulfillment of SRV promises “must be extracted from Hanoi repeatedly, day after day.”111 McCain thus argued “continued contact with Hanoi at lower than ministerial levels is advisable for the foreseeable future provided that such contacts” are limited to “outstanding humanitarian issues.”112

McCain then laid out what by then had become the standard American definition of “humanitarian issues” vis-à-vis Vietnam. While POW/MIA accounting remained “the humanitarian question that concerns most Americans,” the former POW emphasized that the United States should not “open diplomatic and trade relations before” the “100 or more” reeducation detainees who “have been there since the fall of Saigon” were “freed and permitted to emigrate.”113 McCain thus called for the United States to proceed cautiously and ensure that humanitarian issues were fully addressed before full normalization, “for what we seek by improving relations is nothing less than the conclusion of the final chapter of the war in Vietnam.”114 McCain’s insight that the post-1975 period was not an afterthought to the Vietnam War but an important “final chapter” of the conflict demonstrates the ways the truism that wars are easy to begin but difficult to end plays out in practice.

The FVPPA also ensured that US officials knew where it stood on the dramatic thaw in relations. Tho wrote to Bush and other government officials late in 1990 in response to a “recent news article indicating that the United States is now ready for Vietnam talks.”115 “As US citizens it is our hope,” Tho explained, “that the Vietnamese political prisoners are included in the process towards full diplomatic relations with Vietnam.”116 Until this point, the FVPPA avoided any specific comment on US-SRV bilateral relations; however, the prospect that economic and diplomatic ties might quickly resume changed the organization’s stance. “We have been waiting nearly 16 years to be reunited with our loved ones,” Tho lamented, “and we feel that it is imperative that their fate also be included in this stage of formal discussions.”117 This 1990 letter to Bush crystalized the FVPPA’s support for what by then had become a common demand in congressional resolutions and ongoing US-Vietnamese discussions: Hanoi needed to release reeducation camp detainees and allow them to depart as a precondition for the resumption of formal economic and diplomatic ties.

The Roadmap

In January and February 1991, images of Operation Desert Storm dominated the nightly news in the United States. The previous summer Iraq, led by Saddam Hussein, invaded neighboring Kuwait, which violated Kuwaiti sovereignty and also threatened neighboring Saudi Arabia. Collectively, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia controlled 20 percent of the world’s oil supply. After stationing US troops to shield Saudi Arabia from a possible invasion (in Operation Desert Shield) and securing a UN resolution condemning Iraqi aggression, Bush gave Hussein an ultimatum to leave Iraq by January 15, 1991, or face a US-led UN military response. After the deadline passed, US bombers, including the iconic F-117 stealth fighter, devastated Iraqi military targets ahead of a February 24th ground invasion. After only one hundred hours, the coalition forces declared victory.118

Many Americans experienced and interpreted the Gulf War through the prism of the Vietnam War. The day after US-led coalition’s victory, Bush noted in a triumphant speech before the American Legislative Exchange Council, “It’s a proud day for America.”119 In the most famous line of the speech, the president remarked, “And, by God, we’ve kicked the Vietnam syndrome once and for all.”120 For the US military, the victory “meant redemption,” marking the triumph of the All-Volunteer Force and putting an exclamation mark on the resurgence of the military and US soldiers in the public esteem that had taken place over the course of the 1980s.121 Americans showered their troops with gratitude and ticker-tape parades once they returned stateside, celebrations which clearly indicated that “the Vietnam-era image of the soldier as a broken or rebellious draftee” had been definitively replaced “with the unquestioned notion of the volunteer service member as hero.”122 This transformation empowered veterans in Congress with a special political capital, which they often used to exercise substantive influence in the US-SRV normalization process.

Amid these dramatic events, the FVPPA remained focused on its longtime goal to secure the release and resettlement of reeducation camp detainees and its newfound objective to ensure these goals became a precondition for formal US-Vietnamese relations. The previous October, Thach promised to release the remaining reeducation detainees, which he estimated at 100 persons. In January 1991, however, the FVPPA wrote to Assistant Secretary of State Richard Solomon to inform him that the Association had “a list of one hundred thirty-three (133)” prisoners being held in “only several camps,” which led Tho to believe that the total number of detainees still incarcerated must be higher.123 That same month, the FVPPA wrote to its many friends in Congress and asked them to support a resolution calling on Hanoi to keep its word and, at long last, release the final detainees.124

The Senate quickly complied. Ted Kennedy, Claiborne Pell, John McCain, Alan K. Simpson (R-CO), Richard Lugar (R-IN), and Bob Packwood (R-OR) cosponsored the resolution that the FVPPA requested, and Frank Wolf introduced a similar resolution in the House at the end of January.125 When introducing the measure, Kennedy recalled the resolution he, Dole, and Pell cosponsored in 1987, and noted that the reeducation camps’ population had dwindled from “several thousand” to “only about 150.” The prominent Democrat explained that he and his cosponsors were making the renewed appeal not only to the SRV but also to “our own administration to ensure that no stone is left unturned in the essential task of reuniting these families.”126 While the international and domestic contexts had changed dramatically since the 1987 resolution, family reunification remained a consistent point of emphasis.

That leading members of Congress would view the task of reuniting South Vietnamese families as “essential” in 1991 was a testament to the Vietnam War’s long shadow and the power that the FVPPA could wield, among other factors. Kennedy made the explicit connection himself. “I want particularly to commend the untiring efforts of the Families of Vietnamese Political Prisoners Association, under the able leadership of Mrs. Khuc Minh Tho,” he explained, adding that “the families have been an inspiration to us all, as they have struggled to succeed in America, while coping with the long separation from loved ones still in Vietnam.”127 Just as the pain and suffering of American POW/MIA families had justified the most publicized tenet of the United States’ humanitarian-based approach, the torment of family separation experienced by the South Vietnamese also underwrote US policy.

The FVPPA, however, did not rest on Kennedy’s compliments. As American boots were on the ground in the Persian Gulf, Tho secured multiple meetings with the State Department officials, including one with Assistant Secretary of State Solomon. The Association discussed a potential link between the emigration of former reeducation detainees and formal US-SRV ties at multiple points. “In the future,” the FVPPA’s agenda for the meeting began, when “discussions are undertaken on normalization of relations with Vietnam, we request that one of the conditions be the immediate release and freedom to emigrate for all political prisoners. In addition, the human rights of those who choose to remain in Vietnam must be respected by the Vietnamese government.”128 Although the FVPPA’s records do not contain minutes of this meeting, succeeding events suggest that the Association’s request found receptive ears.

In the wake of American victory in the Gulf, Bush enjoyed a 90 percent approval rating. Polls suggested, “although Americans were less inclined to support full recognition of Vietnam, 70% favored lifting the embargo.”129 In this atmosphere of possibility, Solomon met with the SRV representatives to the UN and presented them with a “Roadmap to US-SRV Normalization” on April 9. The Roadmap contained four phases, and each phase had a list of reciprocal SRV and US actions. Once both nations fulfilled all of the requirements for a specific phase, the two would move on, until, ultimately, they achieved full economic and diplomatic relations. Historians have described the Vietnamese response to the Roadmap as “lukewarm,” explaining “Hanoi both welcomed and resented the roadmap.”130 Despite the ambivalent SRV response, the Roadmap presented, for the first time, a clear, written plan toward official ties, and symbolized a profound shift in attitude if not policy. While US officials had used (the lack of) formal economic and diplomatic relations to perpetuate hostilities with Hanoi, the Roadmap signaled a much more conciliatory tone and a willingness to pursue bilateral ties.

Contemporaries and scholars have correctly identified the two issues that received the most attention in the Roadmap: steps involving a political settlement in Cambodia and progress on a full accounting of POW/MIAs. Throughout much of the 1980s, both of these obstacles seemed insurmountable as both Hanoi’s’ refusal to withdraw its troops and Rambomania remained out of the US government’s control. Even though the Reagan administration actively fomented the flames of POW/MIA activism, it never controlled advocates nor could it quiet accusations that the US government was engaged in a conspiracy to conceal the existence of live American prisoners. While it is for good reason that these two causes received the most attention in public discussions of the Roadmap, then, in hindsight it is equally obvious that issues on which Washington and Hanoi had been actively collaborating were also incorporated. Phase I, for example, included “the release of those remaining Vietnamese detainees eligible for the ODP reeducation resettlement program and permit their departure if they so desire” as a condition the SRV had to fulfill for the two sides to move to Phase II.131 This clause reiterated a requirement that congressional resolutions and US diplomats had been articulating for years. It also enshrined the FVPPA’s recent request as a formal aspect of US policy.

These ongoing measures combined with the Roadmap’s specifications left little room for doubt about the importance US officials attached to the detainees’ release and resettlement. While the Roadmap made specific reference to reeducation camp detainees, it also included a broad clause that gave US officials maneuverability to ensure that humanitarian issues were resolved to American satisfaction. The document’s introduction, for instance, explains that “the pace and scope of the normalization process will be directly influenced by your government’s degree of cooperation on the POW/MIA and other humanitarian issues.”132 By this time, “other humanitarian issues” had become shorthand for the migration of South Vietnamese to achieve family reunification, including reeducation camp prisoners, Amerasians, and, more broadly, emigration through the ODP.

On April 11, two days after the US officials presented their Vietnamese counterparts with the Roadmap, Solomon informed Congress that if the SRV complied quickly, official ties would resume “in short order.”133 This testimony reflected the language of the Roadmap itself, which explained to Hanoi that recent progress in Cambodia opened a “window of opportunity” and suggested “it would be regrettable if we did not take advantage … and finally normalize relations.”134 At first, events suggested that the two sides might achieve exactly that. In April, the United States made “its first aid donation to Vietnam since 1975,” a $1.3 million grant from the Agency for International Development.135 Vessey returned to the SRV for continued negotiations and in June 1991 the two sides opened a joint office for MIA issues in Hanoi.136 Also in June, Congress held hearings on the embargo, and the occasion marked what Martini calls “a significant turning point in the discourse about US-Vietnamese relations” as the growing power of business interests, and their demands to gain access to Vietnamese consumers, began to equal and even eclipse POW/MIA-based arguments.137

The AID funds, MIA office, and embargo hearings all suggested that Solomon’s prediction might come true – Washington and Hanoi might normalize relations “in short order.” Events in the summer of 1991 derailed the momentum of the previous six months, however. The cause was, by this point, to be expected: domestic POW/MIA politics. In March, Senator Jesse Helms (R-NC), the ranking Republican on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, and Senator Bob Smith (R-NH), both leading members of the congressional “Rambo faction,” reinvigorated their efforts to create a congressional select committee on POW/MIA Affairs.138 Both men were navy veterans; Helms served during World War II and Smith in the early 1960s, including a year in Vietnam. Smith also lost his father in World War II without ever having learned the circumstances of his death, giving him a deep personal connection to the POW/MIA cause. During his time in Congress, Smith passionately advocated for an extreme view of “full accounting.”139 The two senators tried various tactics to secure the creation of another Select Committee but failed. The tide changed in July, when they published photographs that appeared to confirm the existence of live American POWs.140 Three separate photographs, all later discredited as forgeries, suddenly appeared on the front pages of major US newspapers and magazines in the span of a few weeks, reinvigorating Rambomania and temporarily halting progress on the Roadmap.141

Amid the public uproar, the Senate voted unanimously to create the Select Committee, which was established on August 2, 1991.142 Democratic Majority Leader George Mitchell (D-ME) appointed John Kerry (D-MA) to chair the committee. Kerry, a former navy lieutenant, was perhaps best known for his involvement with Vietnam Veterans Against the War, particularly his eloquent testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in April 1971. Other Democrats on the committee included Bob Kerry (D-NE), a US Navy SEAL, Vietnam War veteran, and Medal of Honor Recipient; Charles “Chuck” Robb (D-VA), a Marine who served in the Vietnam War; Tom Daschle (D-SD), a US Air Force veteran; and Herb Kohl (D-WI), a US Army Reservist. Notable Republican members included Smith, who acted as vice-chairman; Helms; John McCain; and Hank Brown (R-CO), who volunteered to serve in Vietnam as a forward air controller in the navy. This veteran-stacked committee included well-known members from both parties who displayed a wide range of views about the Vietnam War. That veteran status was seen as a legitimizing, rather than disqualifying, illustrated just how differently the American public viewed Vietnam War veterans in the early 1990s than they had in the 1970s. In an echo of the plot of Rambo First Blood: Part II and the credibility gap that the Pentagon Papers revealed, it seems that the Senate knew that the American public was highly suspicious of its government and only trusted veterans, men who had fought for their country like Rambo, to provide “real” answers regarding the fates of missing American servicemen. The Committee raised the hopes of MIA activists and demonstrated that the White House could not dictate the scope and pace of US-Vietnamese normalization; Congress was determined to have its say.

As Capitol Hill halted the rapid progress that had occurred throughout the summer, changes in SRV leadership also made forward progress more difficult. Hanoi replaced Foreign Minister Nguyen Co Thach, who had worked closely with the United States for years on humanitarian issues, with a new negotiator: Vo Van Kiet.143 Thach, Phuong Nguyen explains, “was one of the few and strongest proponents of normalizing relations with the United States.”144 Thach’s loss of his Foreign Minister Post and Politburo seat, directly tied to what some of his peers “perceived as his hastened approach toward Washington” revealed that “Doi Moi would go ahead but only at a pace which the most conservative elements [in Hanoi] could be comfortable with.”145

Despite the potential wrench these changes threatened to throw into advancing normal ties, however, both sides continued to make positive overtures. In September, Hanoi announced that it released fifteen reeducation detainees that had been incarcerated since 1975 and stated that it planned to release all remaining detainees by early spring 1992.146 Most crucially, on October 23, 1991, the various parties formally ratified the United Nations’ Peace Plan at the second session of the Paris Conference on Cambodia.147 The signing satisfied the single largest obstacle in Phase I of the Roadmap, and the United States quickly responded with its concomitant requirements according to Phase I. In October, Baker permanently lifted the longtime travel ban on SRV diplomats and also ended travel restrictions on Americans wishing to visit Vietnam.148 In late November, the two sides met in New York for the first round of talks on official bilateral relations since 1978.149

As Washington and Hanoi progressed through the Roadmap’s requirements in the fall of 1991, the FVPPA continued to play a vital role in the politics of information. Solarz sent a list that the Association had compiled of recently released reeducation detainees to his colleagues in the House in December 1991.150 In February 1992, when Hanoi released forty-two detainees, the FVPPA once again provided US officials with information on the men, including their former ARVN rank.151 Most crucially, however, Tho and her associates kept the US government appraised of those still detained, which in February 1992 amounted to “about twenty.”152 Indeed, the FVPPA’s information so exceeded other sources that in March Dr. Lewis M. Stern, the Country Director for Indochina, Thailand, and Burma in the Pentagon, wrote to Tho asking to be added to the organization’s mailing list “for information concerning Vietnamese political prisoners still detained, and future information concerning release dates.”153 Tho and her team also continued to answer queries from Amnesty International, and provided AI with regularly updated lists as well.154

In early April, Hanoi released sixteen additional reeducation detainees. This left, according to the FVPPA’s records, only seven reeducation camp detainees still incarcerated.155 Later that month, Kerry wrote to Kiet to applaud the “considerable progress made in recent months toward improved relations between my government and yours.”156 While Kerry mentioned POW/MIAs briefly, the POW/MIA Select Committee Chairman informed Kiet that he was writing to share his “particular concern” about the “military and civilian officials who remain in re-education camps.” “Their release at this time,” he elaborated, “would contribute significantly to the healing of wounds stemming from the time of the war.”157 Clear statements such as this – appearing not only in unanimous resolutions from Congress but in high-level diplomatic correspondences – helped ensure that reeducation camp detainees’ inclusion in the Roadmap remained far more than a footnote. That Kerry’s position as chairman of a congressional committee warranted correspondence with the SRV head of state also demonstrates Congress’ continued importance in the larger normalization process.

Washington and Hanoi continued to take steps toward more formal bilateral ties. In January, the State Department lifted the ban on travel to Vietnam and gave American companies the green light to plan accommodations for Vietnamese visitors.158 In April, Kerry led a congressional delegation to the SRV. While Vietnamese leaders balked at the American delegation’s requests for permission to fly US helicopters “freely” around Vietnam to search for MIA remains, SRV leaders went out of their way to accommodate the delegation, allowing the Americans to make “short-notice inspections” on various sites and to, “look at whatever they wanted.”159

When the delegation returned stateside, US officials responded in kind. On April 29, seventeen years after US helicopters were in midst of the final US evacuation, an administrative spokesman announced that the United States would grant two exceptions to the embargo “in keeping with the established US policy of a step-by-step process for normalizing relations with Vietnam.”160 The first was to permit “commercial sales to meet basic human needs” and the second was to “lift restrictions on projects by non-governmental and non-profit organizations in Vietnam.”161 The US government also announced it would allow Americans to wire money directly to Vietnam, a move that let members of the Indochinese diaspora in the United States send funds safely and directly, without fear of confiscation, for the first time since 1975.162

In May, Hanoi released the last reeducation detainees. In a news ticker that Wolf forwarded to Tho, a Vietnamese Foreign Ministry official explained that “the release of all former officials sent for re-education when South Vietnam fell under communist rule in 1975 was one of three conditions set by the United States government for lifting the economic embargo and establishing diplomatic relations with Hanoi.”163 In a move typical of the FVPPA’s strategic and emotionally poignant lobbying, the Association sent out numerous letters of joy, thanks, and congratulations to officials in positions throughout the US government with whom it had worked so closely over the past decade.164

In July, both the FVPPA and the National League of POW/MIA Families held organizational meetings. The marked difference between the two occasions demonstrates the relative standing of each organization by 1992 and the direction each would take over the course of the next administration. At the FVPPA’s Annual Reunion Picnic, Funseth, Thomas Raezer (Department of State), Dr. Lewis M. Stern (Department of Defense), and Dr. Nguyen Van Hanh (Deputy Director, Office of Resettlement for Refugees, Department of Health & Human Services) all gave speeches to an audience of US officials and Vietnamese American community members, including former reeducation detainees.165 In his speech, Hanh, who graduated from the US Army’s Officer Candidate School in 1967 and went on to serve in South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu’s government, commended the FVPPA “for all its efforts, over many years, to effect the release of the former political prisoners.”166 “Throughout my decades of work with refugees in California and the nation,” he went on, “I must say that I have encountered only a few such groups as yours. Your dedication, volunteerism, and efforts, the financial burden you have taken upon yourselves, and your time spent on behalf of the former political prisoners are worthy of more than any words I can express.”167 By the mid-1990s, the FVPPA had established itself as a prominent NGO that commanded US policy makers’ attention and respect. By all accounts, the occasion was a joyous celebration of a successful, harmonious relationship that fostered major progress on an issue that had remained largely at an impasse until 1988.

The same could not be said for the meeting that took place two days prior. Bush appeared before the League at its annual convention, a testament to the organization’s stature in American domestic politics. Almost as soon as the president began speaking, however, a group of attendees broke into a chant of “No more lies! Tell the truth!”168 When he continued, the crowd once again interjected and then Bush, “his jaw tightening and finger wagging, exploded at them: ‘Would you please shut up and sit down!”169 The incident ran in all the major media outlets the next day, which certainly did not help the president in an election year.

The contrast between the FVPPA and the League’s meetings could not be sharper. Although the League still warranted a presidential appearance, Bush’s 1992 keynote marked the last time a sitting president bestowed such an honor on the League’s proceedings.170 While the FVPPA and US officials worked collaboratively and productively toward a common cause, the League lost its control over members who still hoped for the impossible: the return of live American prisoners.

The Bush administration continued to move forward on POW/MIA negotiations whether or not the most extreme advocates were willing to join. In October, Vessey returned to Hanoi, accompanied by McCain and Kerry, as delegates from the Select Committee on POW/MIA Affairs. As a result of this visit, Washington and Hanoi issued a joint statement to announce “an important new step which should accelerate results on the POW/MIA issue.”171 The “new step” included US access to extensive archival documents, including those housed in Vieitnamese military museums, and a pledge from SRV officials to conduct a “country-wide search of all its archives for documents, photographs and other materials related to American POW/MIA cases.”172 Vessey had been attempting to secure access to such material for three years, and allowing foreign access to its classified archives demonstrates the extent to which US-SRV had already normalized and were further integrating, if not in all areas.173

The president held a press conference after his debriefing with Vessey, McCain, and Kerry. Bush described the agreement as “significant, a real breakthrough,” and applauded Vessey and the Senators’ initiatives to “get to the bottom of this matter.”174 “And today, finally, I am convinced,” the president noted triumphantly, “that we can begin writing the last chapter of the Vietnam War.”175 In the following weeks, the US government acquiesced in a $375 million Japanese loan to the SRV and also permitted US companies to begin signing contracts “to be executed should the embargo with Vietnam be lifted.”176

By 1992, US policy makers and pundits had pronounced the “end” or “last chapter” of the Vietnam War at least half a dozen times. The 1973 Peace of Paris Accords, Ford’s speech at Tulane University on April 23, 1975, the fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975, and the closing of the last refugee reception center in the United States on December 20, 1975, all inspired American officials to proclaim the war’s end.177 Such declarations were only beginning, as McCain’s 1990 statement and Bush’s 1992 proclamation make clear. Both men agreed on the fact that the “last chapter” of the Vietnam War had yet to be written and clearly connected the resolution of humanitarian issues to the ongoing narrative. By focusing the preponderant amount of our scholarly attention on the war’s origins and military phase, we have overlooked some of the most compelling pages of the Vietnam War.

Conclusion

The systemic changes that culminated with the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 created an atmosphere of flexibility that reverberated widely in world geopolitics. At the same time that these changes invited US officials to reexamine decades-old assumptions, a new generation of SRV leadership came to power and, after years of negotiations and incremental withdrawals, fully removed Vietnamese troops from Phenom Penh. These major shifts, combined with the Bush administration’s inclination to approach a “full accounting” of missing American servicemen differently than its predecessor, signaled that official economic and diplomatic relations between Washington and Hanoi might be imminent. Although the 1991 Roadmap to Normalization perpetuated the American practice of making extraordinary demands, it also symbolized a profound change in tone. Later that year, US and SRV policy makers had the first formal talks on reestablishing official ties since 1978.

Amid these larger changes, the American commitment to humanitarian issues continued. Washington and Hanoi signed the long-awaited HO agreement in July of 1989, the first prisoners arrived in the United States through the new program in January of 1990, the United States included detainees in the April 1991 Roadmap, and Hanoi released the last reeducation detainees in 1992. NGOs like the Aurora Foundation and, especially, the Families of Vietnamese Political Prisoner Association, assembled the information and helped create the momentum that made this issue one of the top concerns on the American agenda. In addition to these nonstate actors, members of Congress played a vital role in dictating the scope and pace of US-SRV relations. By passing resolutions that became institutionalized in US policy, forming influential committees, corresponding privately with Vietnamese leaders, sending delegations to Vietnam, making speeches, and fomenting domestic constituencies, legislators both accelerated US-Vietnamese ties and erected barriers to further normalization.

While congressional activism and US advocacy in support of reeducation camp detainees remained ongoing facets of the American approach to normalization, other key features of the US position shifted noticeably. First, by rescinding the previous practice of granting automatic refugee status to oceanic migrants and supporting repatriation if necessary, the Comprehensive Plan of Action fundamentally altered the United States’ and international community’s application of the principles of first asylum and nonrefoulment to Southeast Asian realities. This shift from assigning refugee status to large groups to screening individuals on a case-by-case basis reflected larger changes occurring in the US immigration bureaucracy, the UNHCR and, by extension, international refugee norms. Although the Bush administration cautiously embraced the CPA, the vociferous American objections to repatriation that accompanied Secretary of State Baker’s pledge foreshadowed major debates ahead.

The Bush administration’s framing of POW/MIA accounting marked a second shift in American policy that had profound consequences. As the confrontation between Bush and League members so vividly demonstrated, the high expectations that Reagan’s 1983 keynote raised about the return of live POWs came back to haunt subsequent officials. As the FVPPA’s stock continued to rise, the League began to fall out of official favor. In part, the League and its leader, Ann Mills-Griffiths, had attained such influence during the 1980s that it was almost inevitable that their grip on US policy (and policy makers) would weaken over time. The League’s fall from grace accelerated during the Clinton years, in part due to an unlikely source: the MIA-advocate stacked congressional Select Committee on POW/MIA affairs.

6 Humanitarian Issues, Human Rights, and Ongoing Normalization

On July 11, 1995, President William J. Clinton announced “the normalization of diplomatic relations with Vietnam.”1 At the press conference, Clinton stood flanked on both sides by men he described as “distinguished veterans of the Vietnam War,” including Senators John McCain and John Kerry, Representative Douglas Brian “Pete” Peterson, and others. Although the legislators “had different judgments about the war which divided us so deeply” the president noted proudly that “today they are of a single mind,” unanimous in their support for the resumption of formal diplomatic relations.2 While the members of Congress helped give Clinton political cover, their presence was more than symbolic: congressional activism, not only in 1995 but also in the two decades prior, played a definitive role in US-SRV normalization.

The rapid steps Washington and Hanoi took toward formal relations during the Clinton years are the most studied aspects of US-Vietnamese normalization. Scholars have detailed the United States’ decisions to permit international financial institutions to lend to Vietnam in July 1993, lift the embargo in February 1994, settle financial disputes from the Vietnam War in January 1995, establish formal diplomatic relations in July 1995, open an American embassy in Hanoi in May 1997, and award Vietnam most favored nation (MFN) status in December 2001. These economic and diplomatic advancements represented major milestones. At the same time, however, the issues US policy makers deemed humanitarian – refugee migration and POW/MIA accounting – continued to define the normalization process.

As the US government enhanced formal economic and diplomatic relations with Hanoi, American officials had to reckon with difficult questions. Because US leaders framed humanitarian issues as preconditions that had to be satisfied prior to the resumption of formal ties, there was a strong impetus to bring the related programs to a close. This process was hotly contested, as the diverse actors involved in formulating and implementing humanitarian programs clashed about how to end policies that centered on profoundly emotional questions of moral obligation and family reunification. Curtailing humanitarian programs exposed significant divisions that had been lurking under the appearance of widespread, bipartisan support. While a strong consensus underwrote POW/MIA accounting, for example, varying definitions of full accounting led to sharp disputes.

Efforts to conclude the Comprehensive Plan of Action (CPA) and Humanitarian Operation (HO) also precipitated profound disagreements. Migration programs for South Vietnamese had, since the fall of Saigon, rested on assumption that the ties between the United States and RVN were exceptional. By 1995, however, twenty years had eclipsed since South Vietnam’s collapse, which meant the RVN had been a memory for as long as it had existed (from 1955 to 1975). How long would American officials continue migration programs? To put it another way, how long did the United States’ “profound moral obligation” to the South Vietnamese endure, and who got to decide? US officials offered contradictory answers. On the one hand, American policy makers limited US commitments by bringing migration opportunities for South Vietnamese in line with global standards and seeking to terminate the programs, changes that especially threatened the HO, which had only been negotiated in the summer of 1989. Continuing a policy shift that began under its Republican predecessor, moreover, the Clinton administration supported the CPA’s controversial endorsement of repatriation for screened-out Vietnamese migrants who failed to obtain refugee status. While the CPA’s practices – including individual screening for refugee status and an emphasis on repatriation over resettlement – were increasingly defining global and American norms, not all US officials supported the shift, especially as it pertained to the South Vietnamese.

Challenges to the HO and support for repatriation prompted severe protest from nonexecutive actors. Ultimately, after hard-fought battles, the US government (re)created exceptions for South Vietnamese migrants. The 1996 Resettlement Opportunities for Vietnamese Refugees (ROVR) gave screened-out migrants who were repatriated to Vietnam under the CPA one more chance to apply for resettlement in the United States.3 Later that same year, the McCain Amendment created loopholes to permit the original, exceptional terms of the 1989 Humanitarian Operation to remain in effect even after Washington and Hanoi had resumed formal relations. Although Clinton’s July 1995 press conference signaled an important and long-awaited change in US-Vietnamese ties, other aspects of the US approach to Vietnam remained intact.

As debates erupted in Washington over the best ways to conclude humanitarian programs, a larger spectrum of human rights concerns began to rise on the US-Vietnamese agenda. In the context of US-Vietnamese normalization, American policy makers used the phrase “humanitarian” to connote a very specific set of issues, including the resettlement of “boat people”; emigration through the ODP, especially for Amerasians and reeducation camp prisoners; and POW/MIA accounting. While distinctions between human rights and humanitarianism often dissolved in practice, US officials repeatedly employed this specific definition of “humanitarian issues.” These concerns were expansive and involved a significant number of individuals: more than one million South Vietnamese and 2,500 Americans. Yet, at the same time, the US definition of humanitarian was also limited insofar as it prioritized American servicemen and those South Vietnamese with employment or familial ties to the United States deriving from the Vietnam War. During the 1990s, the US government began to formally expand its scope of interest to the human rights of all Vietnamese citizens, including those who had fought against American forces during the Vietnam War and the generation that had come of age in the decades since the US evacuation of Saigon.

US law mandated this new perspective. In many ways, things came full circle. The 1970s legislation that required foreign nations to meet human rights standards before they could receive aid from the United States – the same laws that demonstrated congressional human rights activism and helped catalyze the connection between human rights and refugees during the second half of the 1970s – were suddenly relevant to US-SRV relations, thanks to the imminent resumption of formal ties. The requirement that Hanoi meet human rights criteria prior to receiving coveted most favored nation status, for instance, ensured that broader concerns about the human rights of all SRV citizens became increasingly important. Ultimately, human rights issues mattered to US policy makers seeking official economic and diplomatic relations with Hanoi, but the issues American officials had long identified as humanitarian mattered more. American officials required Hanoi to address the concerns that centered on family reunification for American military families and the South Vietnamese before it would resume formal relations, while the human rights of the entire Vietnamese population was a subject that would be pursued thereafter.

Winding Down Humanitarian Policies

Exactly one week before Clinton took the presidential oath of office, the Congressional Select Committee on POW/MIA Affairs issued its final report.4 The Senate voted unanimously to establish the committee in August 1991 in an attempt to provide definitive answers to those who believed that Hanoi continued to hold live Americans in captivity and remained suspicious about a US government cover-up. The Committee’s Final Report, a sprawling 1,233-page document, is best known for a single line: “There is, at this time, no compelling evidence that proves that any American remains alive in captivity in Southeast Asia.”5 Nearly twenty years and billions of dollars later, members of Congress arrived at the same conclusion their predecessors had in December 1975: “No Americans are still being held as prisoners in Indochina” and “a total accounting … is not now, and never will be, possible.”6

The Report, however, did not dispel popular belief in the myth of live POWs. In his Mythmaking in America, also published in 1993, historian H. Bruce Franklin argued, “the POW myth … has all the intensity of a religion” in the United States.7 Public opinion polls taken in April 1993, revealed that 67 percent of respondents believed that there were Americans “still being held in Southeast Asia.”8 Widespread belief in the existence of live American prisoners, despite all of the evidence to the contrary, led to emotional clashes not only in the public sphere but also in the halls of Congress. The Select Committee’s deliberations got so heated that at one point “[Chuck] Grassley [R-IA] insulted McCain who responded by extending his middle finger at Grassley. He [McCain] then left the room saying they could write what they wanted – he didn’t care anymore.”9 While McCain eventually rejoined the deliberations, this exchange illustrates the high tensions that accompanied even official, closed discussions about POW/MIA accounting.

If the Final Report failed to persuade many Americans, it successfully challenged an unlikely target: the National League of POW/MIA Families. As Michael Allen explains, the Select Committee’s investigation “exposed the MIA movement,” especially the League “as more corrupt, divided, and exiguous than previously thought.”10 Perhaps most damning of all was the realization that “the MIA lobby was surpassingly small … with many politicians concluding that its bark was worse than its bite.”11 Taken together, these revelations undercut much of the lobby’s political clout. The League remained intact and operational, and the POW myth still had many faithful adherents, but the once-mighty League suffered “a blow from which it never fully recovered.”12

While a humbling of the League added momentum to ongoing US-SRV normalization, so did continued expansion of preexisting collaborations. In early January 1993, Priscilla Clapp, the Senior Deputy Assistant Secretary of the Bureau of Refugee Programs, reported that during her team’s recent visit to Vietnam, the atmosphere was “generally cooperative” and SRV officials seemed “anxious to pursue FPP [former political prisoner] processing in an expeditious manner.”13 Clapp explained to Families of Vietnamese Political Prisoners Association (FVPPA) President Khuc Minh Tho that the Bureau of Refugee Programs would “continue to give top priority in processing the FPP caseload” and that she hoped to “increase the number of persons admitted in FPP cases this year to as many as 25,000.”14

The SRV continued to live up to Clapp’s favorable depiction. In mid-January, Hanoi agreed to provide Washington with “all of the HO lists,” – that is, the lists of all of the former detainees who SRV officials had already approved for exit permits through the 1989 Humanitarian Operation.15 This decision marked a notable policy reversal and demonstrated a desire move the HO forward. The new practice, moreover, permitted US policy makers to determine the order of resettlement if they so desired.16 With the knowledge of those who Hanoi had pre-approved for emigration, American officials could put those they deemed most worthy – usually those who had spent the longest time, often decades, in reeducation – at the top of American lists and secure their departure almost immediately. Throughout early 1993, the FVPPA worked to ensure that the 100 longest-held detainees received expeditious processing. The Association also maintained its close contact and cooperation with US officials and collaborated with other Vietnamese American organizations to welcome new arrivals and help ease their transition to life in the United States. In fiscal year 1992, 22,629 emigrated through the HO program, 17,646 through the Amerasian program, and an additional 23,294 through immigrant visas.17

As he swore the presidential oath of office, Clinton thus had reasons to be both enthusiastic and cautious about the scope and pace of US-Vietnamese relations. Cooperation between the two governments on migration programs for South Vietnamese and POW/MIA accounting remained high, and the American domestic political environment continued to shift, albeit slowly and unevenly, toward a more favorable position on closer bilateral ties.18 A major impetus for this tilt was the business lobby. As Edwin Martini documents, “business interests were clearly overtaking the POW/MIA lobby as the primary source of testimony” at congressional hearings and also began to drown out POW/MIA inspired calls for caution in the popular press with equally exigent demands for access to Vietnamese consumers.19 That Vietnam might serve as a counterweight to China in the post–Cold War world also added geopolitical justification to these arguments.

While each of these factors added momentum to ongoing normalization, the policy proclivities and personal history of the new president did not. While none of Clinton’s post-1975 predecessors were Vietnam War veterans, accusations that the president enrolled in the Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) to avoid wartime service in Vietnam and, once he was safe from the draft with a high lottery number, reneged on his pledge to join the ROTC meant that the Commander in Chief had to tread carefully.20 Clinton, moreover, began his first term focused on domestic issues like the economy and health care. In comparison to Bush, historian George Herring notes, “the former governor of Arkansas was plainly less experienced with and informed on foreign policy issues.”21 In this context, the nonexecutive actors who had played such a robust role in the normalization process had ample room to continue to take the initiative.

Despite the change in administration, then, many familiar faces remained leading figures in US-SRV relations. Given Clinton’s larger tendency to gravitate toward the political center, often co-opting Republican policies for his own use, it is unsurprising that the president reappointed his Republican predecessors’ personal emissary to Vietnam, General John Vessey. Vessey made his first trip to the SRV as a Clinton administration representative just two months after the inauguration. Key members of Congress also remained fixtures in the normalization process. A congressional delegation led by Kerry, McCain, and Peterson, for instance, quickly followed on the heels of Vessey’s arrival.22 By the time legislators departed in May, Hanoi repatriated twenty-one American remains, and Washington and Hanoi continued to take small steps toward more formal ties. Another Roadmap requirement was fulfilled when UN-supervised elections took place in Cambodia in May.23

As the governmental and human ties between the United States and Vietnam increased, the Clinton administration floundered. Thanks to “a series of unforced errors” – including the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, which pleased no one and angered many, and the administration’s handling of the standoff in Waco, Texas – Clinton’s popularity had plummeted from 64 percent in February to 37 percent by May.24 That summer, as debates in Congress about the US budget reached a crescendo, Clinton gave his first speech on US-Vietnamese relations.

In a July 2, 1993, address, the president made clear that he felt obliged to emphasize POW/MIA accounting over all other concerns. He had good reasons for taking this approach. Pete Peterson, a former POW, US Congressman, and the man who became the first US Ambassador to the SRV, described the domestic political scene in the early and mid-1990s as “very difficult.”25 “At the time, the American public was profoundly against the idea [of normalization],” he explained, recalling “a feeling within America that nobody wanted to do anything positive related to Vietnam.” The general mood, he remembered, “was not ‘no’ but ‘hell no’ are we going to have anything to do with Vietnam.”26 As a Boston Globe article reported just days before Clinton’s July 1995 press conference, “Vietnam is not a dry issue of dollars and cents. The war … has never been fully resolved in many Americans’ hearts.”27 Even though US-Vietnamese relations had thawed considerably during the second half of the 1980s, US policy makers still had to contend with an often openly hostile or, at least, deeply ambivalent current of emotion running through broad swaths of the American public. Moving on from the war was a nonlinear process that involved not only overcoming very real and challenging wartime legacies but also confronting deeply held beliefs, like the POW myth, that had little basis in reality.

In this context, Clinton was sure to belabor his commitment to POW/MIA accounting. Charges of wrongdoing had long plagued the US government, and Clinton began his speech by announcing “all US Government POW/MIA related documents to be declassified by Veterans Day of this year, except for that tiny fraction that could still affect our national security or invade the privacy of the families.”28 Declassification took away one of the conspiracy theorists’ most powerful weapons: claims that US officials hid the truth of live POWs behind the smokescreen of classification. By giving POW/MIA families access to documents that would have otherwise remained unavailable for decades, the president attempted to foster trust and mend the relationship that had soured considerably by the early 1990s. Although some Americans continued to believe the POW myth no matter what the government did, Clinton’s actions gave the “Rambo faction” in Congress and the American public less credible ground on which to stand.

To add weight to his first good-faith initiative, Clinton revealed that he planned to send a high-level POW/MIA delegation to the SRV (in addition to the Vessey visit) “to press for further progress and send a clear message to the Vietnamese government.”29 Given that the SRV had long been receiving this message, it is likely that Clinton’s primary audience was the American people. The delegation included a variety of government officials and representatives from the American Legion, the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and the Disabled American Veterans. While Clinton invited the League to send a representative, it ultimately declined.30 Although previous administrations had remained sensitive to veterans groups, Clinton’s inclusion of multiple veterans’ organizations added legitimacy to his decisions and demonstrated that the US government would no longer award the League such a privileged place in policy-making circles. That the League ultimately declined the invitation is also a testament to the extent to which relations between the White House and the League had deteriorated by the early 1990s.

Clinton’s July 2nd speech, however, is noteworthy both for what the president said and omitted. Although he belabored his commitment to full accounting, Clinton did not once mention the possibility of the return of live American POWs. For the first time since 1983, the official American definition of “tangible progress” necessary for “any further steps in relations between our two nations” did not include the return of live American prisoners.31 While he carried on the American practice of requiring Hanoi to make herculean and unprecedented efforts to account for missing American servicemen, Clinton also broke from previous policy by making demands that SRV could satisfy.

The final part of Clinton’s address had the greatest immediate impact. Overturning years of policy, the president announced that he “decided to end our opposition to the efforts of other nations to clear Vietnam’s arrears in the IMF [International Monetary Fund].”32 This decision had major financial consequences. Hanoi reported that it received $500 million in foreign assistance in 1993, “up from an average of $100 million during the late 1980s and early 1990s.”33 At the fall 1993 IMF meeting, the SRV “received aid pledges of nearly $2 billion.”34

That Clinton could make such a move after the self-inflicted stumbles of early 1993 and, in spite of intense POW/MIA fervor, illustrates the power of nonexecutive, especially congressional, advocacy. “I believe, as do former POWs John McCain and Douglas ‘Pete’ Peterson and other veterans such as John Kerry and others in Congress,” Clinton explained during his July 2nd speech, “that such action will best serve the goal of achieving further progress toward the fullest possible accounting.”35 If the president’s name-dropping did not make the point clearly enough, the same day as his announcement, a group of twenty “Vietnam-era veterans in Congress” published a letter imploring Clinton to drop US opposition to IMF loans in order to send “a strong signal that the United States recognizes Vietnam’s efforts” and urge them to continue their cooperation.36 Senators Kerry and McCain, and Congressmen Wayne T. Gilchrest (R-MD), Lee Hamilton (D-IN), and Peterson, also issued separate press releases supporting Clinton’s decision.37

After years of influencing the pace and scope of US-Vietnamese normalization, legislators, especially veterans, continued to use the political capital their service conferred to take public positions supporting closer US-SRV ties. The dramatic turnaround in Americans’ confidence in their military and the esteem with which they viewed veterans is also vividly apparent in the administration’s approach to normalization. In the mid-1970s, Clinton’s history of protesting the war and avoiding service would likely have evoked a great deal of sympathy from broad swaths of the American public. By the mid-1990s, those actions were liabilities, and the president repeatedly pointed to the advice and support he received from veterans in Congress to bolster and defend his policies.

This is not to say that Congress was of a single mind on every facet of US-SRV normalization. It had never been. While the importance of POW/MIA accounting went virtually unquestioned, by the late 1980s and early 1990s, fissures erupted on Capitol Hill and throughout the US more broadly about what “full accounting” meant. These schisms are obvious in the congressional mail the White House received throughout the spring and early summer of 1993. While nearly every letter Clinton received from his congressional colleagues noted the importance of full accounting, some suggested that closer US-SRV ties would lead to greater success in this area, while others argued that any deepening of economic or political relations prior to accounting for every last American listed as POW/MIA abdicated of governmental responsibility to military families.38

In this context, members of Congress, especially Vietnam War veterans, intentionally acted as the vanguards of the administration’s policy. As Peterson explained, “there weren’t many of us within Congress that were positively inclined” toward normalization, “but over time, and after about three visits to Vietnam by members of the House and of the Senate we ended up with a cadre, if you will, of individuals from Congress with like mind and we essentially began pressuring the State Department but really directly pressuring President Clinton into moving toward reconciliation.”39 While Peterson, who joined Congress in 1990, underestimated the extent to which legislators had already been exercising leadership roles in dictating the scope and pace of US-SRV ties in the previous decade, his insight highlights the formidable political obstacles that stood as a barrier to formal relations. The intense partisan atmosphere of the mid-1990s, as Americans and their representatives in Congress clashed over the “culture wars,” certainly made any forward progress on an already sensitive issue incredibly difficult.

In July 1993, Clinton’s delegation arrived in Vietnam, without a League representative. SRV officials thanked the president for demonstrating “goodwill” by consenting to an infusion of IMF funds and presented US officials with a large cache of archival material. While the delegation discussed POW/MIA issues extensively, it also visited an Amerasian Transit Center and established a rehabilitation center in southern Vietnam to treat former reeducation camp prisoners still suffering from war-related maladies.40 As the agenda of this brief visit makes clear, US policy makers continued to require that Hanoi address the concerns American officials deemed humanitarian. By the early and mid-1990s, the United States and SRV were collaborating closely on all of these issues, thereby normalizing their relations.

Hanoi also permitted the United States to establish a State Department office on Vietnamese soil that would “assist American families in obtaining the appropriate travel documents to go to Vietnam to search for their relatives.”41 When announcing this new office, Assistant Secretary of State Winston Lord insisted, “We are not opening a diplomatic mission in Hanoi. We are not establishing a US interest section there. What we are doing is strengthening our efforts to try to find the answers for the families of our missing men.”42 Truth be told, the POW/MIA office was only the most recent American post in the SRV to address humanitarian issues. Since 1987, American officials had been stationed in Ho Chi Minh City to help facilitate ODP processing. Phyllis Oakley, the Assistant Secretary of State of the Bureau of Population, Refugees, and Migration, characterized the office as “very much like a consular section.”43 Although not an embassy, a consular office – usually located outside of the capital city where one finds formal embassies – provides services to individuals and businesses and still functions as a formal diplomatic office. Oakley, a former Foreign Service Officer whose husband, Robert Oakley, met with SRV leaders in December 1978 in New York City, certainly made this comparison from a well-informed position.44

On the one hand, semantics were important. The United States remained unwilling to call these offices embassies or consular offices throughout the late 1980s and early 1990s, reflecting a larger American reluctance to publicly proclaim it accepted the SRV as a member of the community of nations. On the other hand, functionality remained, in other ways, equally as important. As Oakley observed, the existence of the refugee office and US-Vietnamese cooperation on migration issues reflected that Washington and Hanoi “could work things out and have orderly processes.”45 In other words, the two sides increasingly functioned as though they had official diplomatic relations, even in the absence of those formal ties. The creation of an additional office for POW/MIA families in 1993 only added to this trend.

Clinton’s response to his mandatory review of the Trading with the Enemy Act (TWEA) in September 1993 illustrates these larger tensions between legal classifications and de facto realities. TWEA was the legislation that perpetuated the US embargo on Vietnam and a handful of other nations. In the fall of 1993, Clinton extended TWEA restrictions on Cuba, North Korea, Cambodia, and Vietnam.46 His presidential determination, however, made clear distinctions between the “enemy” nations. Clinton castigated Cuba and North Korea but took a much more conciliatory tone with the SRV. While the president extended the US embargo for another year to make clear “that more needs to be done” to achieve POW/MIA accounting, Clinton softened this decision by announcing “an adjustment relating to international financial institution [IFI] lending.”47 The decision also allowed US businesses to “participate in development projects in Vietnam” underwritten with IFI funding.48 The president went another step further in November when he announced that US companies could sign contracts in anticipation of “such time as the Vietnam embargo is modified to permit such transactions,” a move that drew praise from many of the nation’s leading corporations.49 While Clinton extended the embargo, then, he did so while simultaneously sending clear signals that the question was when, not if, his administration would ultimately remove the sanctions. As had been the case with the president’s July 2nd speech, the White House received a series of letters from legislators both supporting and condemning these decisions.50

Human Rights Advocacy and the Resumption of Formal Talks

As the resumption of formal relations between Washington and Hanoi appeared imminent, human rights became an important, though secondary, topic of bilateral conversation. When Lord made another trip to Vietnam in December 1993, for instance, he signed a US-Vietnamese agreement to begin bilateral discussions on human rights, which Washington and Hanoi formally announced on January 11, 1994.51 While US and SRV officials had been meeting for years to discuss what American policy makers termed humanitarian issues, the new agreement marked an important change by signaling Hanoi’s willingness to discuss the full spectrum of human rights conditions in Vietnam.

Although the January 1994 announcement marked the beginning of formal human rights talks, US and Vietnamese officials had been having quiet discussions on the topic for the previous few years.52 Domestic and international criticism of Hanoi’s human rights policies (or, according to most observers, lack thereof) spurred these discussions, a trend that only increased after 1994. The case of Dr. Nguyen Dan Que, a fifty-one-year-old human rights activist who Amnesty International adopted as a prisoner of conscience, for example, drew international attention throughout the early 1990s, especially among the United States’ Virginia-area Vietnamese community, where Dr. Que’s family lived.53 Dr. Que, who won the Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights Award in 1995, enjoyed enough notoriety to make his individual case a repeated, if minor, topic amid increased bilateral discussions.54 Hanoi’s harsh treatment of the Unified Buddhist Church, which refused to obey a government order to disband, also made international headlines and drew repeated attention from US officials throughout Clinton’s first term.55

The State Department’s “Vietnam Human Rights Practices, 1993” report offered some cautious praise, but mostly condemned Hanoi. The Report noted that the SRV adopted “a new constitution in 1992 that provides for the rule of law and respect for human rights” but that, in practice, “the Government continued to restrict individual rights on national security and other grounds.”56 Two bright spots in an overall pessimistic report included Hanoi’s compliance with multilateral migration programs: the ODP and CPA. Human rights issues certainly mattered to US policy makers seeking official economic and diplomatic relations with Hanoi, but the issues American officials had long identified as humanitarian mattered more. While administration officials often mentioned the importance of human rights, US statements and actions reflected the assumption that resuming formal ties would help address human rights issues, while humanitarian issues served as preconditions.

The approach of major human rights organizations like Asia Watch added legitimacy to American policy. In August of 1993, for example, Asia Watch published a report entitled “Human Rights in US-Vietnam Relations.”57 “Although Vietnam’s human rights problems … are serious, Asia Watch is convinced that at least some sectors of the government are genuinely committed to making progress,” the report noted after spending nine pages detailing those “serious” problems.58 “Asia Watch takes no position on normalization or the trade embargo,” the report continued, but the organization “would favor linking most favored nation status for Vietnam to specific progress on human rights, should the problems we have discussed today persist.”59 This approach already had strong support in the US government, including the 1974 Jackson-Vanik Amendment, which required foreign nations to meet freedom of migration and human rights standards before receiving most favored nation status. Major human rights organizations thus bolstered the administration’s position that while important, human rights conditions need not be considered a precondition for official ties. This policy aligned with the administration’s larger approach, as US-Chinese relations and US unwillingness to label the events in Rwanda as genocide all highlighted the limits of the administration’s commitment to human rights.60

With regard to US-Vietnamese relations, American policy makers emphasized humanitarian programs. For example, in January 1994, General John Vessey published a written statement on US policy toward Vietnam. “In the past six years, Vietnam has made huge leaps in the direction we wanted them to go, many of them moves that we in Washington thought would never be made,” Vessey began.61 As had been the case since the second half of the Carter administration, the General discussed SRV cooperation on migration programs and POW/MIA accounting together, enumerating the many compromises and agreements that they had reached in the previous decade, as evidence of positive steps toward normalization. “Lifting the trade embargo and moving forward in relations,” Vessey concluded, “is not rewarding a heinous communist regime for past crimes” but responding to years of cooperation on humanitarian concerns.62

The Senate and a growing number of Americans agreed with Vessey. The results of a January 1994 poll “revealed that a small plurality of those questioned favored lifting the embargo (46 percent in favor versus 40 against)” while “56 percent believed that Americans were still being held prisoner in Southeast Asia.”63 In other words, the American people were still buying what Hollywood and the League had been selling for years, even if US officials were not. For this reason, emphasis on POW/MIA accounting and support from veterans in Congress remained essential for Clinton to enhance US-Vietnamese ties.

On January 27, McCain and Kerry introduced a resolution calling on Clinton to lift the embargo. Other senators immediately rose to challenge their resolution, including Bob Smith and Bob Dole, who offered a counter amendment that would make “the lifting of sanctions on the Socialist Republic of Vietnam contingent upon a resolution of all cases or reports of unaccounted for United States personnel lost or captured during the war in Vietnam.”64 While the fact that Dole was gearing up for a presidential run against Clinton likely influenced his decision to co-offer this amendment, it was also consistent with his long history of close collaboration with the League. The McCain-Kerry Amendment, which opponents lambasted as “an abrogation of our promises to the POW/MIA families,” passed by a vote of 62–38.65 Although POW/MIA advocates in Congress, the League, and the American public remained vocal, they were also a minority.66

One week later, on February 3, 1994, Clinton announced the end of the embargo. This decision, which Clinton framed as “the best way to resolve the fate of those who remain missing,” also involved the creation of another US office in Vietnam, “a liaison office,” which would “provide services for Americans there and help us to pursue a human rights dialogue with the Vietnamese government.”67 By 1993, then, the United States had three permanent offices in Vietnam, despite the lack of formal diplomatic relations. As they had done in July of 1993 with the IMF decision, numerous veterans in Congress published press releases supporting the president’s decision.68 This time, Vietnam-era commanders outside of Congress like General William Westmoreland joined the legislators in voicing their support.69 The administration included all of these statements and letters in the information packets it provided to the press.

As US-Vietnamese normalization proceeded, legislators like McCain and US newspapers began to award increased attention to human rights issues in Vietnam.70 Statements by SRV officials revealed that Hanoi was willing to entertain such discussions “with the goal of broadening their relationship” but also remained suspicious of US efforts to impose “its way of living and thinking on other nations.”71 This tension persisted for the rest of the 1990s.

Refugee Concerns and Normalization

The resumption of formal economic relations, and the broader changes in the status of formal US-SRV ties that they portended, impacted preexisting migration programs for South Vietnamese in important ways. Thereafter, the US government began transitioning the policies that facilitated emigration from Vietnam to conform to global standards and looked to curtail the programs. In April, for example, the State Department reported that the most recent list of Hanoi-approved individuals for departures, HO-44, and those previously filed, would be “the final lists” under the HO program and US officials began taking steps to “ensure a smooth conclusion to this humanitarian program.”72 This standardization shifted some of the financial burdens from the US government to Vietnamese applicants in mid-1994 but did not otherwise substantially alter the program.73

This status quo changed dramatically in December. Theresa L. Rusch, the Migration Director of the Office of Admissions in the Bureau of Population, Refugees, and Migration (PRM), wrote Tho to inform her that after February 1, 1995, “ only spouses and unmarried children who have not yet attained the age of twenty-one,” would be eligible for emigration; “Children over twenty-one,” she clarified, “will no longer be eligible.”74 In addition to citing high incidence of fraud, which plagued both the Amerasian and reeducation programs, Rush explained the policy revision was a “continuation of US Government efforts to bring ODP processing more into line with worldwide refugee and immigrant visa processing standards.”75 After being exceptional for so long, US-Vietnamese relations were becoming routine.

If eliminating eligibility for children of reeducation camp prisoners over twenty-one seemed intuitive to US policy makers, it was a bombshell for the FVPPA. The Association immediately wrote to its contacts in the State Department to challenge the decision, which Tho described as “a shock and cause for dismay.”76 She requested “a review and revision of this new rule” and to “be given the opportunity to comment” before its implementation.77

The FVPPA did not remain content to challenge the new decision within the State Department. The Association also reached out to friends in high places on the National Security Council and in Congress. Tho wrote to Eric Schwartz, the Director of Human Rights, Refugees, and Humanitarian Affairs on the NSC, and to McCain, both longtime FVPPA supporters. In nearly identical letters, the FVPPA lambasted the change, which Tho characterized as “arbitrary, illogical, unfair and contrary to the spirit of the admissions program for former political prisoners as administered since 1989.”78 “What is the logic of excluding this group, at this stage when most of the children from the Vietnam era of the former political prisoners are over 21 years of age?” Tho lamented, “What is the fairness in disadvantaging those families who have waited for their turn in the processing queue?”79

Tho also rejected the State Department’s claims that the change only temporarily delayed, rather than permanently prohibited, children over twenty-one years of age from joining their parents in the United States. “Ms. Rusch also states that sons and daughters can wait for their fathers to file second preference petitions after they resettle,” Tho explained to McCain. “However, the resettled refugee cannot file a petition until after one year and then the son or daughter faces another 3–4 years of waiting until the second preference petition is current. I think further consideration will reveal that this is not a reasonable alternative.”80 After noting that the original provisions of the Amerasian program stood throughout the program’s existence, despite the high existence of fraud, Tho argued that family reunification for the South Vietnamese people and postwar reconciliation were linked phenomena. As she put it, “If we are truly committed to moving forward with the healing process brought about because of senseless war that caused so much death, suffering and sadness, then we should be moving towards uniting those who have suffered the hardships and loss of their families and loved ones.”81 This was precisely the position that US policy makers had adopted in the preceding decade.

Both Schwartz and McCain used their positions of power to help the FVPPA challenge the policy revision. McCain wrote the head of the PRM Bureau three days after receiving Tho’s letter and noted, “Mrs. Tho raises some very important questions. … I would appreciate your responses.”82 Schwartz met with FVPPA leaders to personally hear the Association’s concerns and facilitated a meeting between the FVPPA and Phyllis Coven, Director of the Office of International Affairs at the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS).83 Coven offered “the possibility that exceptions could be made for hardship cases” but informed Tho that the decision “was not reversible.”84 The FVPPA refused to give up, but the outlook remained bleak in early 1995.

Although the over twenty-one issue frustrated the FVPPA, the genesis of the policy change, bringing US-Vietnamese relations in line with international – that is, “normal” – relations, continued. While the end of the embargo mattered, it did not unilaterally remove all barriers to US-Vietnamese trade. Although there were many remaining legal obstacles, unresolved claims stemming from the Vietnam War constituted one of the most pressing problems.85 On the one hand, the United States froze Vietnamese assets worth approximately $70 million in 1975, and by the early 1990s, they had appreciated to a value of $290 million.86 Washington, on the other hand, argued that Hanoi assumed responsibility for the $150 million in unpaid loans that South Vietnam had owed private Americans in 1975 and the additional $220 million the South Vietnamese government owed to American companies.87 Given the appreciation of these debts, Washington argued that “it was owed tens, if not hundreds, of millions of dollars.”88 Despite Nixon’s 1973 secret promise to pay Hanoi “$2.5 billion of grant aid over five years,” the actual postwar transfer of funds ran the other direction.89 On January 28, 1995, the US and SRV signed an agreement whereby Hanoi agreed to pay over $208 million to US nationals (and the South Vietnamese debts owed to the US were dealt with separately in a 1997 agreement).90

In more ways than one, then, the United States continued to fight the Vietnam War through non-military means. The fact that US officials demanded and won, from the position of military defeat, $208 million in post-war concessions without paying anything to the military victor is unheard of in the history of modern warfare. That the United States also made unprecedented demands on Hanoi to assist with accounting for missing Americans, even as hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese remained unaccounted for, vividly illustrating the extent to which the hubris and hostility that characterized the war’s military phase persisted thereafter. It is thus easy to see why Martini terms the years from 1975 to 2000 “the American war on Vietnam.”91

Incorporating the South Vietnamese people and the reverberations of the US-RVN alliance both supports and complicates this picture. Some US policy makers – though by the early 1990s a vocal minority – used South Vietnamese migration programs and POW/MIA accounting to perpetuate conflicts with Hanoi by framing the issues as instances of American beneficence and SRV oppression. Regarding the South Vietnamese as having exceptional ties to the United States – while recognizing historical realities – also perpetuated wartime divisions and implicitly cast other Vietnamese as enemies. Conversely, other US officials argued that implementing migration programs and cooperating with Hanoi paved the way forward for a new relationship between the two former adversaries. Despite these varying motivations, in practice, negotiating and implementing humanitarian programs became one of the primary means through which American policy makers moved on from the nation’s most divisive war of the twentieth century.

The contradictory meanings different US officials ascribed to migration programs are clearly visible in a debate that erupted over the Comprehensive Plan of Action (CPA). By 1995, approximately 31,000 migrants received refugee status and resettled abroad, while 72,000 screened-out migrants voluntarily returned to the SRV.92 The only groups remaining before the CPA could officially terminate were just over 20,000 screened-out migrants who remained in camps throughout ASEAN countries and another 20,000 in Hong Kong.93

In March, the Steering Committee, the body in charge of monitoring the CPA’s implementation, met to discuss the program’s final phase in Geneva. Charles Sykes, the Deputy Assistant Secretary for the PRM Bureau, headed the US delegation. Reiterating the commitment that the previous administration had made five years prior, Skyes made clear that the United States’ understanding of a “just and humane conclusion” to the CPA included forced repatriation, if necessary.94 While he emphasized the United States’ commitment to “voluntary return,” Skyes also acknowledged “those who are not refugees should return to Vietnam and can no longer retain the false hope of resettlement directly from the camps to the United States or elsewhere.”95

This announcement reflected a broader reorientation of US refugee policy in the mid-1990s. Amid larger conversations about how to craft a refugee policy for a post–Cold War world and growing domestic discontent with high refugee admissions, US practice shifted from an emphasis on resettlement to favoring economic contributions to the UNHCR and repatriation when possible. Because the United States had resettled so many refugees in the previous decades, Garcia reports that “the Bush and Clinton administrations often clashed with the UNHCR over the US refugee resettlement program, specifically the American commitment to the UN principle of nonrefoulment.”96 The transition in US policy in favor of repatriation also reflected a larger effort to bring “humanitarian” programs to an end and achieve formal economic and diplomatic relations with Hanoi. Opposition to repatriation was based on the assumption that the lack of basic human rights protections in the SRV was severe enough to remove return to Vietnam as a viable, legal alternative to resettlement. As US-Vietnamese cooperation increased and the two moved closer to formal relations, however, many US officials in the State Department and Congress abandoned their previous harsh rhetoric toward the SRV and instead adopted a much more reconciliatory tone.

The evolution from favoring resettlement to supporting repatriation, however, was neither universal nor uniform. Just as the FVPPA vociferously opposed the change regarding unmarried children over twenty-one years old, many American officials, especially members of Congress, refused to support Skyes’ announcement that the United States would abide by the forced repatriation component of the CPA.97 Reports that screening officers denied deserving individuals refugee status only exacerbated clashes about larger policy principles.98 Even though CPA member nations agreed to the target date of June 1995 to end the program, US domestic politics postponed the program’s termination for over a year.99 The month before the CPA was set to end, the program faltered because US legislators publicly expressed reservations about endorsing forced repatriation.100 US qualms became increasingly pronounced throughout May, which encouraged screened-out refugees to refuse to accept “voluntary” repatriation in hopes that a new resettlement program might materialize. As the South China Morning Post, an English-language newspaper based in Hong Kong, put it, “a radical move in the United States Congress could hijack the international plan on the Vietnamese boat people.”101 This is precisely what happened.

On May 24, 1995, a raucous debate erupted in the House. The immediate reason for the passionate clashes were two competing amendments to an appropriations bill offered by Congressmen Christopher Smith (R-NJ), on the one hand, and Doug Bereuter (R-NE), Lamar Smith (R-TX), and Dave Obey (D-WI), on the other. While the former “called for all screened-out Vietnamese boat people to be allowed another chance to make their case for refugee status and resettlement in the United States,” the latter called for the US to comply with the CPA’s original terms.102 The subsequent debate, however, was about far more than these two amendments. The previous November, Republicans had taken control of the House and Senate, ensuring that partisanship would play a significant role. With the embargo lifted and the resumption of diplomatic relations imminent, moreover, the clashes that erupted also reflected much larger disagreements about how to bring humanitarian programs to a close, to writing what McCain and Bush had described as the Vietnam War’s “final” or “last” chapter.103

That the war remained in some ways ongoing is evident in congressional deliberations. “It is a matter of honor,” Henry Hyde (R-IL) argued, “they worked for us, they fought with us. … We are not asking that they be repatriated [sic] to America. We are asking only that they not be forcibly returned to the places from which they fled.”104 The use of wartime rhetoric ran both ways, however. When arguing that the United States must see the CPA through to its completion, Congressmen Bereuter noted that “at least 12,000” of the screened out refugees were “North Vietnamese” who, using the logic of wartime military alliances, ostensibly had no claim to American assistance.105

Still others suggested obligations stemming from the Vietnam War had expired. “Yes, we should help these people in the camps. We should look out for them. They did stand with us,” Bill Roth (R-DE) conceded. “But the war was 20 years ago. How many more are we going to bring into this country? Yes, we would like to bring everybody into America, but that is not possible.”106 As Jim Moran (D-VA) argued, many policy makers were still “looking upon Vietnam with the blinders of the past.”107 Efforts to continue to use migration policies to perpetuate old hostilities, he argued, are vested “too much in the past and past bigotries” and failed to acknowledge “the enormous progress that has been made in the last few years.”108

While the Vietnam War cast an obvious shadow over congressional debates about the CPA, 1995 realities were also important. As Congressmen Obey argued, it would be unwise for the United States to abrogate “an international agreement which was made … with 78 other countries,” as such a move was sure to create tension between the United States, its ASEAN allies, and the broader international community.109 The fact that the SRV signed the CPA also influenced congressional thinking. “By continuing our agreement,” Donald Payne (D-NJ) argued, “we encourage additional cooperation with Vietnam which will lead to increased cooperation on the POW issue” and also take a step toward the effort to “complete the normalization of relationships between our two countries.”110

Both those who opposed and supported the CPA used concern for the lives of screened-out Vietnamese to support their disparate positions. CPA supporters argued that abandoning the agreement would create “false expectations” and make “shambles of what an orderly refugee process is supposed to be.”111 This step, Obey suggested, would create “an artificial incentive” for screened-out refugees to refuse voluntary repatriation and might also encourage additional migrants to flee Vietnam in hopes of getting a coveted resettlement slot.112 Because the international community had promised ASEAN nations for years that they would not be required to permanently resettle screened-out refugees, it was safe to assume that first asylum nations would take matters into their own hands and force the migrants out. As Congressmen Bereuter argued, “the bloodshed, the tragedies that will result from this reversal of policy are just going to be extraordinary” and “the blood is going to be on our hands.”113

CPA opponents agreed there would be bloodshed on American hands, but gave a different justification. Those against forced repatriation argued that human rights conditions in Vietnam remained dire enough to both qualify the migrants for refugee status and to eliminate forced repatriation as an alternative to resettlement. Dan Burton (R-IN), for example, argued “if there is any doubt about these people being sent back to possible death, or worse, at the hands of the Vietnamese Communists, then we should err on the side of safety. That is the reasonable and humanitarian thing to do.”114 “I do not enjoy calling people like our State Department or the UNHCR liars,” Steve Gunderson (R-WI) said much less diplomatically, “but let us not kid ourselves,” forced repatriation, especially for those with ties to South Vietnam or the United States, would lead to “torture and in many cases eventual death.”115 Although the White House disputed this characterization, it was cognizant about reports of excessive force to implement repatriation, especially in Hong Kong, and emphasized the importance of “safety and dignity” in repatriation policies.116

Ultimately, the Smith Amendment to provide migrants with another opportunity to acquire refugee status passed in the House with 266 ayes, 156 noes, and 12 abstentions.117 The same day as the vote, riots erupted in camps in Hong Kong when officials arrived to forcibly repatriate screened-out migrants and UN officials blamed Congress for fanning the flames of unrealistic expectations for resettlement.118 While there was never any doubt that Clinton would veto the bill if it arrived on his desk, it was clear by late June that the measure would fail in the Senate.119 Nevertheless, this episode provides clear evidence of the influence Congress could wield in the larger US-SRV normalization process and in debates about international refugee norms. That US domestic legislation, even a bill that failed to become law, was enough to raise hopes halfway around the world and frustrate international efforts to implement a multilateral agreement illustrated that even though Congress could never dictate US policy, it certainly exercised an influential voice.

The tense, multilayered debate over the end of the CPA served as a microcosm for debates about US-Vietnamese relations. While more and more policy makers supported official ties, a vocal minority opposed reconciliation. It is difficult to ascertain whether these legislators’ opposition was born of conviction or political opportunism, although the two were by no means mutually exclusive. The fact that the United States stood on the eve of an election year almost inevitably amplified Republican criticisms, although the battle lines did not align perfectly with party allegiances. While divisions about the Vietnam War and POW/MIA rhetoric still resonated deeply with the American people, by 1995 an entire generation of Americans and Vietnamese Americans had come of age that possessed no living memory of the war. Geopolitical changes, collaboration between key legislators and the Clinton administration, and years of US-Vietnamese cooperation on what US officials called humanitarian issues had decisively weakened the forces that opposed official diplomatic recognition.

Official Diplomatic Relations and Continued Normalization

While the House almost derailed the CPA and succeeded in delaying the program, other US policy makers took great pains to ensure that the recent progress on US-Vietnamese normalization continued. As the fight over the CPA made clear, it was not an easy task. Throughout the first half of 1995, Vietnam War veterans in the Senate made increasingly explicit and public calls for normalization. Kerry argued in late June 1995, for instance, that continued US refusal to extend full diplomatic recognition to the SRV would be “crazy.”120 “Surely,” he insisted, “we can take this country, 60 percent of whose people were born after the war, and treat it like a country and not a war.”121 McCain, whose status as a former POW let him speak on the issue in a way that few others could, argued: “We should remember that there were 8,000 missing in action in Korea, 78,000 in World War II. One of the very terrible casualties of war is that a lot of people are not always fully accounted for.”122 “We are down to a very small number,” McCain noted of Vietnam War POW/MIAs. “There is only a limited amount of additional work we can do in this area.”123 The White House also received private letters from Vietnam veterans in Congress, like Pete Peterson, encouraging the president to pursue formal diplomatic relations with Vietnam.124

On July 11, 1995, Clinton announced “the normalization of diplomatic relationships with the SRV.”125 As he had throughout his time in office, the president belabored his commitment to POW/MIA accounting. “Never before in the history of warfare,” he noted proudly and without hyperbole, “has such an extensive effort been made to resolve the fate of soldiers who did not return.” Clinton also acknowledged US efforts to “develop trade with Vietnam consistent with US law.” “As you know,” the president explained, “many of these programs require certifications regarding human rights and labor rights before they can proceed. We have already begun discussing human rights issues with Vietnam, especially issues regarding religious freedom. Now we can expand and strengthen that dialogue.”126 In other words, human rights conditions in the SRV would now become, as dictated by general American policy and the specifics of US law, an increasingly important part of bilateral relations.

Clinton also suggested that enhanced US-SRV ties would precipitate an improvement in the human rights situation in Vietnam. “I believe normalization and increased contact between Americans and Vietnamese will advance the cause of freedom in Vietnam, just as it did in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union,” the president argued. Thus, when he announced that Secretary of State Warren Christopher would go to Vietnam in August to “discuss all of these issues,” Clinton meant both lingering humanitarian concerns and the new, broad discussions of human rights.127 Christopher delivered on the president’s promise, and during his first official visit in August, he gave a human rights speech that the South China Morning Post remarked was sure to “rile Vietnam’s Communist Party leaders.”128

Clinton ended the July 11th press conference with the hope that his announcement would help Americans “consign to the past” their Vietnam War-era divisions. The war, Clinton suggested, “has separated Americans from one another for too long now.” “We can now move on to common ground,” he argued. “Let this moment, in the words of the Scripture, be a time to heal and a time to build.”129 Despite Clinton’s optimism, his announcement predictably sparked a backlash.130 Opponents inside and outside of government portrayed Clinton’s decision as economically driven and as jettisoning any hope for full accounting and human rights in Vietnam.131 Opponents of normalization were powerful, persistent, and often had political incentives to assume the positions they took. These critics, however, were also a minority. As the New York Times reported on the day of recognition, “a new CNN/USA Today/Gallup poll shows 61 percent of the public backing recognition and only 27 percent opposing it.”132

While the resumption of diplomatic relations in July 1995 marked a momentous change, one must look beyond 1995 to appreciate the full scope of the normalization process. As the US bureaucracy worked to bring US-Vietnamese relations into line with worldwide standards, the nonexecutive actors who worked to make migration programs a cornerstone of the US approach to Vietnam after 1975 mobilized to prevent the changes from eliminating opportunities for South Vietnamese resettlement. Throughout 1995 and 1996, the FVPPA met with INS officials, corresponded with McCain and Schwartz, and reached out to other trusted allies like Senator Ted Kennedy to aid in their quest to return the HO to “its original purpose of resettlement of the former political prisoners and their families as family units.”133 Despite claims that the revision of the HO program to exclude children over twenty-one years of age was irreversible, the FVPPA worked to reorient the change.

The Association was ultimately successful. In July of 1996, McCain offered Amendment No. 5064 to the Foreign Operations Appropriations bill HR 3540 – also known as the “McCain Amendment” – which proposed to reestablish the eligibility of unmarried children of former reeducation detainees over twenty-one years old. The Senate passed the bill in August, and Clinton signed the amendment into law in October.134

Knowledgeable individuals credited the FVPPA for a large part of the McCain Amendment’s success. Shep Lowman, the man whose 1977 phone call led to the creation of the Citizens Commission on Indochinese Refugees and who was a former Deputy Assistant Secretary in the State Department Bureau of Refugee Programs, wrote to Tho to express his “congratulations on your work on the McCain Amendment.” “The McCain language,” Lowman noted with satisfaction, “was one of the last pieces needed to bring the Vietnamese refugee program to an honorable and compassionate end.”135This was the most effective advocacy effort by the Vietnamese American community that I have ever seen and your efforts were the key ones,” Lowman applauded. “It was a good show, Tho, and thousands of families have been helped to reunify.”136

The McCain Amendment signaled that the relationships between the American and South Vietnamese peoples endured far beyond the RVN’s collapse and even eclipsed the resumption of formal economic and diplomatic relations between Washington and Hanoi. Twenty years after the last American helicopters left Saigon, US policy makers still made exceptions to US law to for South Vietnamese, especially for cases that facilitated family reunification. The FVPPA, as a powerful mouthpiece for the Vietnamese diasporic community in the United States, deserves a good deal of the credit not only for the 1996 McCain Amendment but also for US reeducation camp policy more broadly. The continued agency of the South Vietnamese people warrants a prominent place in the discussion of US policy toward Hanoi after 1975.

Just as US officials made an exception for the unmarried children of reeducation detainees over twenty-one years of age, American policy makers also crafted a unique response to the Comprehensive Plan of Action. UN officials conceded they were “at a loss” with how to proceed after the unexpected events of the previous summer.137 Lord returned to Hanoi in mid-January to try to devise a solution and US and SRV officials reached an agreement in principle in March.138 The bilateral accord coincided with the Steering Committee’s final meeting, which set a target date of June 30 for repatriating the remaining 36,000 screened-out Vietnamese.139 The US-SRV agreement, formally announced in April, was called Resettlement Opportunities for Vietnamese Refugees (ROVR).140 ROVR accepted the CPA’s requirement that all screened-out migrants be returned to Vietnam – by force, if necessary – and the UNHCR announced that the CPA would formally come to a close in June 1996.141 This concession signaled that while US officials might make exceptions in specific cases, such as the South Vietnamese, individual screening for refugee status and repatriation were becoming default practices for both international and US approaches to major migrations. The ROVR, however, also gave forcibly repatriated persons one more chance to apply for resettlement in the United States.142

While the multilateral, UNHCR-supported CPA would come to an end, Washington and Hanoi created a bilateral agreement that gave repatriates a final chance to seek refugee status and resettlement in the United States. Like the McCain Amendment, the ROVR made an exception to American policies for South Vietnamese who could establish a special claim to US assistance. With the full implementation of the ROVR program in April 1996, the New York Times argued, “the final chapter to the Vietnam War is quickly coming to a close.”143

While the Vietnam War’s “final chapter” had been ongoing for decades and would continue beyond 1996, it is unmistakable that the South Vietnamese and the policies that facilitated their migration to the United States were a central part of that narrative. South Vietnamese continued to arrive in the United States throughout the late 1990s. For example, in fiscal year 1996, nearly 27,000 arrived in the US through the ODP. Of these, nearly 15,000 were former reeducation camp detainees and their families.144 Indeed, the FVPPA remained open until 1999 to help facilitate the emigration and resettlement of the more than 167,000 former reeducation camp prisoners and their families through the HO program.145

While the FVPPA played an integral role in these developments, it was not the only NGO that helped ensure that reeducation camp prisoners remained an American priority. Ginetta Sagan’s advocacy, as the Vice President of Humanitas and as the founder of the Aurora Foundation, also had lasting consequences. In September 1996, only months after the ROVR helped bring the Comprehensive Plan of Action to a successful conclusion, Clinton awarded Sagan the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian honor in the United States. “Ginetta Sagan’s name is synonymous with the fight for human rights around the world,” Clinton declared.146 That same year, Amnesty International launched a new award to recognize “individual accomplishment” and serve “as a beacon of hope to women everywhere who are fighting for human rights.” The prestigious honor, which includes a $20,000 grant and still exists as of this writing, is called the Ginetta Sagan Award.147 While Sagan received these (and many other) accolades for the global reach of her human rights advocacy, her determination to document the conditions in Vietnamese reeducation camps, even when she had to work outside of AIUSA auspices and form her own organization to do so, is a significant, if largely overlooked, component of Sagan’s lifelong human rights activism.

After awarding Ginetta Sagan the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Clinton administration continued to further normalize US-Vietnamese relations. In May 1997, Secretary of State Madeline Albright visited Ho Chi Minh City, where she officially opened the US consulate, with Pete Peterson serving as the first US ambassador to the SRV.148 In November, the Vietnamese opened a consulate in San Francisco, and in December, Clinton took another step forward in US-Vietnamese relations by beginning to waive the Jackson-Vanik Amendment.149 Many in Congress, however, continued to write the White House about human rights conditions in Vietnam, conditions which they argued made awarding Hanoi MFN status impossible for the time being.150 Indeed, because of Jackson-Vanik requirements, it took Washington five years after the establishment of formal diplomatic recognition to award Vietnam MFN status, making the United States the last industrialized nation to do so.151

The process of normalization, then, extended beyond 1995 in a number of important ways. Negotiations on migration programs for South Vietnamese continued to serve as an important point of ongoing dialogue. The same was true for POW/MIA politics. As Allen argues, “normalization of relations did not bring an end to the MIA issue or the politics of loss.”152 The black POW/MIA flag remains the only other banner besides the stars and stripes that has ever flown over the White House, and the same image still adorns bumper stickers all over the United States. If the migration and POW/MIA-related facets of normalization persisted beyond the mid-1990s, so too did the development of economic and diplomatic relations. As Robert D. Schulzinger explains, “the reality of the new relationship between the two countries proved far less glamorous” than many expected: “Much of the excitement over Vietnam’s potential to become another Asian tiger ignored the reality of the country’s traditional, agricultural way of life.”153 Furthermore, for years after the establishment of formal economic and diplomatic relations, “the crushing burden of official red tape and corruption” slowed economic development and frustrated American and international investors.154 All facets of normalization remained ongoing.

Amid these developments, Clinton visited Hanoi in 2000. He was the first sitting American president to visit the Socialist Republic of Vietnam and the first to set foot on Vietnamese soil since Nixon’s 1969 visit to South Vietnam.155 Ahead of Clinton’s visit, the New York Times observed that the president “will arrive in a country that is increasingly linked to the United States by a web of migrants.”156 “One result” of this massive, decades-long migration, the article continued, “is that 26,000 Vietnamese a year now emigrate to the United States,” a migration that in 2000 constituted “one of the half-dozen largest flow of immigrants into America from any country in the world.”157 In addition to the 26,000 Vietnamese per year arriving as immigrants, refugees continued to arrive on American shores. “Remarkably a quarter-century later,” the Times explained, some migrants “are still technically refugees fleeing the distant echo of a war. At a rate of nearly 2,000 a year, these refugees include the aging survivors of Communist ‘re-education camps’ and the grown children of American soldiers [Amerasians], as well as hundreds of participants in a little known program [the ROVR] that is still cleaning up the last lingering cases of what became a huge refugee-processing bureaucracy.”158

As Clinton traveled from the United States to Vietnam in 2000, then, 28,000 Vietnamese made the trip in the opposite direction that same year. Although the vast majority were immigrants, approximately 2,000 refugees per year continued to arrive on American shores through programs that nonexecutive actors labored so tirelessly to bring into existence. In many ways, the volume and character of these migrations were symbolic of larger trends; even though Washington and Hanoi continued to pursue postwar reconciliation and move beyond the war, the conflict continued to linger, with very real, human consequences. The war, as the Times suggested, reverberated in both “distant” and immediate ways into the early twenty-first century.

These trends and tensions characterized the Clintons’ time in Vietnam as well. The president and first lady received an “extraordinarily warm welcome” and, in an “unprecedented move,” Vietnamese officials permitted Clinton’s address “to be carried on national television.”159 While Clinton’s speech made the requisite references to accounting for American servicemen and congressional support for closer US-Vietnamese ties, he also discussed other humanitarian issues, with the reverberations of ongoing migration being primary among them.160 “Because of the conflict,” he explained, “America is now home to one million Americans of Vietnamese ancestry.”161 As Clinton’s comments implied, this major migration, and the series of bilateral and multilateral policies that underwrote them, constituted one of the most profound consequences of the Vietnam War.

Conclusion

The humanitarian issues that constituted the basis of ongoing US-Vietnamese dialogue in the absence of formal relations remained of pivotal importance before, during, and after Washington and Hanoi resumed formal economic and diplomatic relations in the mid-1990s. The ongoing power of POW/MIA politics, the vociferous debates about the end of the Comprehensive Plan of Action, and the persistence of war-related refugee programs into the early twenty-first century all demonstrated the extent to which humanitarian issues defied easy resolution. Part of the reason all of these concerns lingered beyond the mid-1990s rests with the reality that although publicized by American policy makers, US officials never controlled migrants, their nongovernmental supporters, or the POW/MIA campaign.

It is unmistakable, however, that to the extent it was in their power to do so, American officials attempted to bring humanitarian programs to a close. US officials had insisted that addressing humanitarian issues served as a precondition to more formal ties. While retaining the ability to define “successful resolution” gave Washington a considerable amount of leverage in ongoing negotiations with Hanoi, it also meant that, when they finally wanted to proceed with formal relations, US policy makers had to find a way to end programs that defied easy conclusion. Debates on this point – about what full accounting actually entailed, about the feasibility of repatriation to Vietnam, and about the conformity (or lack thereof) of Indochinese refugee programs with other worldwide standards – illustrate the intense passion and high human stakes that characterized US normalization policies. The enduring power of the POW/MIA lobby, the long and cumbersome process of regularizing US-Vietnamese trade relations, ongoing US-Vietnamese dialogue about human rights, the McCain Amendment, and the ROVR program all signaled that US-Vietnamese collaboration on humanitarian issues, and normalization itself, persisted after 1995. While Clinton’s 1995 announcement was a major milestone with important ramifications, this turning point, like the fall of Saigon, did not mark an abrupt and complete departure. The ties between American and South Vietnamese people outlasted both the collapse of South Vietnam and the resumption of diplomatic relations between Washington and Hanoi.

Conclusion

The collapse of South Vietnam, the frantic and humiliating American evacuation, and the rise of the North Vietnamese flag at the presidential palace in Saigon make April 1975 an extremely compelling and deceptively obvious point to conclude histories of the Vietnam War. Although a turning point of profound importance, this historical moment did not inaugurate an abrupt shift from war to peace between Washington and Hanoi, nor did the collapse of the Republic of Vietnam as a political entity erase the bonds between the American and South Vietnamese peoples, which persisted in their intimate, asymmetrical complexity. A complete history of the Vietnam War, therefore, must include the post-1975 period.

Between 1975 and 1980, the political situation in Southeast Asia remained in flux as new governments came to power and the Third Indochina War erupted. At the same time, relations between the United States and the two communist superpowers transformed dramatically. In this fluid environment, questions about the bilateral ties between Washington and Hanoi and the extent of any ongoing American commitment to the South Vietnamese people remained hotly contested. By the end of the decade, US policy toward the region reoriented and stabilized. After resuming formal diplomatic relations with China, American policy makers tabled official negotiations with the SRV and established two preconditions for the resumption of formal ties: the withdraw of Vietnamese troops from Cambodia and a “full accounting” of missing American servicemen. These two conditions forestalled any progress on official bilateral ties for a decade.

In the intervening years, however, relations between Washington and Hanoi remained far from frozen. During the 1980s, the United States’ normalization policies were characterized by ultimately irreconcilable contradictions. American officials spent considerable time and resources to perpetuate wartime hostilities and pursue postwar reconciliation, to isolate Hanoi and deepen the human and policy ties between the United States and Vietnam. These inconsistencies become decipherable only once we recognize that US officials assumed decidedly different tones with the government in Hanoi and the South Vietnamese people. Pursuing postwar reconciliation involved addressing the United States’ relationship with both.

Throughout the 1980s, American officials expanded the purview of US policy to include not only those who fled the SRV by boat but also the Amerasians and current and former reeducation camp prisoners who remained in Vietnam. The intensive contacts and, ultimately, cooperation that migration programs for these groups required served, in large part, as the basis for ongoing US-Vietnamese ties during the crucial twenty years after the fall of Saigon. The tendency to characterize Vietnamese migration to the United States as arriving in “waves” thus obscures the true nature of the diaspora and concomitant US resettlement policies: both were constant. American officials consistently increased migration opportunities in the two decades after 1975, announcing major policy initiatives not only throughout the late 1970s but also in 1982, 1984, 1987, 1988, 1989, and 1996. Migration programs, moreover, transformed the tenuous ties of the US-RVN alliance to the much more enduring relationships facilitated by resettlement, including, in many cases, naturalization and citizenship.

To fully understand US-Vietnamese relations after 1975, one must take into account the pervasive role of migration politics and policy making. Although American officials emphasized the importance of POW/MIA accounting over other concerns in their public addresses, a decision clearly aimed to placate domestic audiences, US officials linked POW/MIA accounting and migration programs as “humanitarian issues.” Collaboration on humanitarian issues facilitated normalization between Washington and Hanoi even as formal ties remained suspended.

Although US officials argued that negotiations on humanitarian issues were separate from, and by implication secondary to, political concerns, these distinctions dissolved in practice. By insisting that Hanoi resolve humanitarian issues to American satisfaction prior to the resumption of formal ties, US policy makers infused humanitarian concerns with political significance. Collaboration on these issues thawed US-Vietnamese relations in ways that were likely unintended or, at least, not universally intended. The negotiation and implementation of humanitarian programs spurred regular dialogue, personal relationships, and bilateral and multilateral agreements between Washington and Hanoi. US and SRV officials met repeatedly, at regular prescheduled intervals in Geneva, New York, and Hanoi. US congressmen, State Department officials, Pentagon employees, NSC staff, and representatives of American NGOs flew to Hanoi regularly to meet with their Vietnamese counterparts. In 1987, US officials were stationed on the ground in Ho Chi Minh City to conduct exit interviews for the ODP, and in 1993 the United States established a special POW/MIA office in Hanoi. Although formal economic and diplomatic relations did not resume until 1994 and 1995, respectively, it is obvious that US-SRV relations were far from frozen or static after 1975.

Nongovernmental organizations played a crucial role in this larger process. While large, well-funded, and well-connected NGOs like the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, Citizens Commission on Indochinese Refugees, the National League of POW/MIA Families, and, to a lesser extent, Amnesty International all constituted powerful voices in the normalization process, grassroots organizations also contributed to US policy in essential ways. The Aurora Foundation and the Families of Vietnamese Political Prisoners Association exerted an influence that belied their modest resources and helped make a largely invisible issue a consistent and central feature of US policy. While the Aurora Foundation is an example of the ability of a human rights NGO to influence American foreign policy, the FVPPA’s success illustrates the ways members of the Vietnamese diaspora were not only the recipients of US programs but policy influencers in their own right.

It is hard to overstate the personal time, energy, and sacrifice Ginetta Sagan and Khuc Minh Tho invested into their respective organizations. When Sagan realized that American human rights activists, including her AIUSA colleagues, would not document and publicize what she saw as obvious human rights violations in the SRV, she founded her own organization to fill the void. Sagan personally traveled throughout the United States, Europe, and the Philippines to interview former reeducation camp detainees, which led to her widely circulated 1983 and 1989 reports. Given both Amnesty International’s refusal to permit AIUSA sections from adopting Vietnamese prisoners of conscience and the fact that so many reeducation detainees were ineligible for POC status, it is unlikely that other actors would have filled the advocacy void in the late 1970s or early 1980s and continued their work for over a decade, as Sagan did.

Khuc Minh Tho warrants similar recognition. To be sure, the FVPPA was not the only Vietnamese American organization concerned with reeducation camp detainees, and other organizations played important roles in assisting former prisoners and their families with the transition to life in the United States. Yet, in echoes of Sagan, it is unlikely that another individual would have been able to fill Tho’s shoes. Her tireless advocacy, strategic location in the greater DC area, familiarity with American bureaucratic norms, and by the late 1980s, her personal relationships with key US policy makers rendered her personal advocacy vital to the broader US position on reeducation camp detainees. In keeping with some of the most persuasive scholarship on the Vietnam War’s origins and military phase, then, the normalization process was characterized by contingency, where the decisions of individual actors had real and long-lasting consequences.

Members of Congress also left an indelible impression on US-Vietnamese normalization. By passing resolutions, holding public hearings, proposing legislation, leading delegations, founding special committees, collaborating closely with NGOs, and exerting pressure on both the White House and Hanoi, Congressmen played a definitive role in crafting US policy toward Vietnam after 1975. As was the case with nongovernmental advocacy, the efforts of a select group of individuals spearheaded larger institutional initiatives. Ted Kennedy, who advocated on behalf of those displaced as a result of US policies prior to 1975, led legislative efforts to create the Refugee Act of 1980. Kennedy was joined in the late 1970s by other congressional activists, including Rudy Boschwitz, Bob Dole, Claiborne Pell, and Stephen Solarz. All of these congressmen connected their personal and familial histories, especially their ties to World War II and the Holocaust, to the events they saw unfolding in Southeast Asia and therefore made increased admissions for oceanic and overland migrants personal and eventually governmental priorities.

By the late 1980s, Vietnam War veterans in Congress assumed leadership roles in the American approach to normalization. As veterans and the US military grew in the American public’s estimation, military service became a powerful form of political capital that legislators wielded to assert themselves in the normalization process. Because of John Kerry, John McCain, and Pete Peterson’s personal credibility as men who fought in the Vietnam War when it was unpopular to do so, these officials could speak about US-Vietnamese relations in ways few others could and helped accelerate normalization. At the same time, legislators also worked to slow increasing ties between Washington and Hanoi, as the testimony, resolutions, and congressional committees offered by Jesse Helms, Chuck Grassley, Bob Smith, and others illustrate.

Congress also defined the legal parameters that informed US-Vietnamese relations after 1975 by codifying human rights into the conduct of US foreign policy. In the mid-1970s, as part of Capitol Hill’s larger efforts to reclaim a role in the nation’s foreign affairs, Congress passed legislation that required foreign nations to meet human rights standards before they were eligible to receive foreign aid from the United States. Once the US and SRV began resuming official economic and diplomatic relations in the 1990s, these laws required US officials to expand their concern beyond a narrow understanding of “humanitarian issues” to the full spectrum of human rights conditions in Vietnam. The Refugee Act of 1980, which enshrined a human rights based definition of refugee and an “of special humanitarian concern” exception clause into US law, also ensured that these moral languages – and Congress itself – would have a role in crafting US refugee policy.

Although nonexecutive actors definitively influenced US-SRV normalization, one cannot dismiss the ongoing importance of the White House. In terms of the power to mobilize the US bureaucracy and set American policy priorities, the individual proclivities of each president in the decades after 1975 were paramount. Ford’s determination to include South Vietnamese in the US evacuation, Carter’s initial reluctance to support large admissions for oceanic and overland migrants and his popularization of human rights rhetoric, Reagan’s personal investment in POW/MIA accounting, Bush’s inclination to accept a different definition of “full accounting” than Reagan, and Clinton’s willingness to resume formal economic and diplomatic relations with Hanoi despite a potential domestic blowback all created the terrain through which nonexecutive actors had to navigate. After the fall of Saigon, however, the nation’s Vietnam policy was never among the top five national security issues with which any sitting American president had to contend. Although executive backing remained essential, the White House no longer served as the primary engine of policy initiative. Nonexecutive actors dictated much of the scope and pace of US-Vietnamese relations after 1975.

The momentum for the resumption of formal relations accelerated in the late 1980s and early 1990s thanks to a series of systematic changes. The dramatic thawing in US-Soviet relations, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the collapse of the Soviet Union invited American officials to rethink fundamental assumptions about the world and US foreign policy. Internal changes in the SRV, which were connected to these larger transformations, including the rise of a new generation of leaders and doi moi policies, also shifted the geopolitical scene. Amid these changes American officials presented the SRV with a Roadmap to Normalization, a plan that signaled a notable change in American tone; the question would be when, not if, the former foes would resume official bilateral ties. American demands, however, remained consistent: Hanoi had to withdraw its troops from Cambodia, facilitate a “full accounting” of missing American servicemen, and continue collaboration on humanitarian issues.

As Washington and Hanoi neared the resumption of formal relations, a series of incredibly emotional, politically fraught questions emerged, and the consensus that characterized much of the 1980s dissolved. The definition of “full accounting,” the Comprehensive Plan of Action’s endorsement of repatriation to Vietnam, and the question of how long and under what circumstances the US retained a moral obligation to the people of South Vietnam all became hotly contested. Ultimately, American officials decided to both end existing programs, in an effort to conclude the humanitarian initiatives they had earmarked as preconditions, and created new loopholes for South Vietnamese to resettle in the United States. These exceptions and the continued arrival of South Vietnamese as refugees into the twenty-first century signaled the enduring power of the US-RVN alliance. The specific terms of the 1996 ROVR and McCain Amendments, however, also attest to the groups that US officials found most deserving of American assistance: those who fled Vietnam by boat and former reeducation camp detainees and their close family members.

Like the study of the war years, then, the popular tendency to reduce the narrative to a contest between Washington and Hanoi oversimplifies an incredibly complicated story in which the South Vietnamese people played a fundamental role. In the mid-1990s, Washington ultimately concluded that while the time had come to resume formal relations with the government in Hanoi, the time to fully normalize the relations between the American and South Vietnamese peoples had not. By creating loopholes and implementing new programs, US officials once again ensconced the exceptionality of US-RVN ties into American policy and law. For Americans, postwar reconciliation included addressing both the government in Hanoi and the people of South Vietnam.

The US-SRV normalization process contributed to the growing elasticity of many important concepts, including that of refugee, human rights, humanitarianism, and war itself. After 1975, the boundaries between war and peace shifted in complex and contradictory ways. The two processes –war making and peace building – were entangled and contemporaneous rather than diametrically opposed. While the United States perpetuated hostilities with formal economic and diplomatic policies, collaboration on humanitarian issues, especially migration programs, became the primary means of postwar reconciliation.

Although a refugee, from a legal standpoint, is defined as one outside of his or her country of nationality, the realities faced by many South Vietnamese after 1975, especially Amerasians and reeducation camp prisoners, exposed this definition as inadequate. The Orderly Departure Program, in particular, marked a key turning point. By facilitating the emigration of individuals who had not crossed an international border, the program was a crucial pivot point in a larger shift that forced the international community to reckon with the gap between the legal definition of refugee and the reality of lived experiences.

In addition to influencing the way we understand who qualifies for refugee status, the Indochinese diaspora also prompted two very different American (and international) responses to the migrations. In the late 1970s, the United States and, eventually, the UNHCR emphasized resettlement as the primary response. This approach expanded precedents established during WWII and reflected the American practice of resettling large numbers of refugees fleeing communist countries in the Cold War context. Embracing the ODP was a novel step for the United States, however, in that it required support for a multilateral, rather than unliteral, program facilitated through the once much-maligned UNHCR. By the late 1980s, the Comprehensive Plan of Action signaled both a withdraw of American global leadership on refugee issues and that repatriation had replaced resettlement as the international community’s default response to major displacement. The different ways that the United States, UNHCR, and international community responded to the diaspora over time tell a larger story about changing refugee norms in the twentieth century. Recognition of the limits of the legal definition of refugee and a shift from resettlement to individual screening and a preference for repatriation also foreshadowed the contours of refugee politics in the early twenty-first century.

So did the entanglement of humanitarianism and human rights. The Indochinese diaspora was spurred simultaneously by war-related humanitarian concerns and massive human rights violations. Because the diaspora and Cambodian Genocide occurred at precisely the moment that human rights activism and rhetoric became ubiquitous, nonstate actors and government officials framed these events through a human rights lens and drew repeated comparisons to the Holocaust. What contemporaries called the Indochinese refugee crisis drew the attention of long-standing humanitarian organizations like the UNHCR and IRC and new human rights NGOs like Amnesty International and the Aurora Foundation. The American response to the diaspora further entangled humanitarianism and human rights not only rhetorically and politically but also legally, with the Refugee Act’s codification of a human rights-based definition of refugee and the “special humanitarian concern” exception. Although still distinct in important ways, refugee activism highlighted the links between human rights and humanitarianism and further conflated the concepts.

The alacrity with which US government officials embraced and echoed the language of humanitarianism and human rights is striking. When writing about the post-Cold War world, scholars repeatedly observe that human rights have become the moral lingua franca of twenty-first-century international relations. The US-SRV normalization process was an important moment in this larger narrative. As the concepts of refugee, human rights, humanitarianism, and war have expanded, the boundaries between them have also eroded. Human rights and humanitarianism efforts do not simply follow or critique conflicts; they bookend wars, acting as both justification and salves for armed violence. War, refugees, humanitarianism, and human rights form not just a narrative arc but a cycle. While the entangled roots of militarism and morality run incredibly deep, a history of the Vietnam War that includes the normalization process helps explain the particular ways these ideas manifest in the late twentieth century and beyond.

Footnotes

5 Refugees and the Roadmap

6 Humanitarian Issues, Human Rights, and Ongoing Normalization

Conclusion

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  • 1989–2000
  • Amanda C. Demmer, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University
  • Book: After Saigon's Fall
  • Online publication: 08 April 2021
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  • 1989–2000
  • Amanda C. Demmer, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University
  • Book: After Saigon's Fall
  • Online publication: 08 April 2021
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  • 1989–2000
  • Amanda C. Demmer, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University
  • Book: After Saigon's Fall
  • Online publication: 08 April 2021
Available formats
×