Vietnamese Politics Opens a New Chapter : Campaign: Jan. 2 election for ‘president’ of 300,000 Southland residents was intended to unify community, but a close vote only escalated infighting. The formal winner will be declared today.

The fierce campaign for the hearts and minds of the people of Little Saigon officially ended early this month.

On a brisk Sunday morning, more than 5,000 Vietnamese filed patiently past a bank of computers at a high school gymnasium to pick a “president” to champion the Vietnamese of Southern California.

The aim of the symbolic election was to anoint a leader who could unite the splintered factions of the nearly 300,000 residents of Vietnamese descent scattered through Southern California into a solid political force, and to take control of a cash-poor organization that had closed its offices and had been largely moribund because of infighting for the last two years.

But the immediate result was an old-fashioned political slugfest featuring impassioned debate, mudslinging, flag-waving, patriotic declarations, Communist-bashing and accusations of physical threats.

And the photo finish has been as controversial as the campaign.

One vanquished candidate--a Pomona pediatrician who lost by a slim margin of 82 votes--challenged the outcome, leveling charges of voting irregularities that will be aired today at a four-hour hearing at a Vietnamese club.

The winning candidate, Ban Binh Bui, a charismatic Little Saigon businessman in suspenders and matching tie, is savoring victory, but worrying about retaliation. He has increased his insurance to cover any losses due to vandalism.

All this effort is for a presidential post promising a two-year term with hazy powers, a minimal budget and decidedly mixed reviews.

Critics complain privately that this presidential post sends confusing messages to many new immigrants who believe they are voting for a government in exile. But supporters insist an election was necessary to give leaders the status and credibility to represent the Vietnamese American viewpoint in likely negotiations to lift the trade embargo and restore diplomatic relations with Vietnam.

The trade issue is a particularly sensitive theme in Southern California. The burgeoning Vietnamese population in Orange County--centered in Little Saigon’s thriving commercial area in Westminster and Garden Grove--is regarded as the largest concentration outside Vietnam. And within the Little Saigon community the delicate issue of normalization has prompted demonstrations, hunger strikes and even vandalism aimed at businessman who dared to support restoration of trade.

For the record, all three tickets fielding candidates for president opposed lifting the trade embargo. But even so, they were poised for change.

“We are living here, but we are still thinking about our country,” said Bui, the apparent president-elect and leader of the winning slate of 14 cabinet officers dubbed Ticket No. 3. “Our main issue with normalization is that when people to start making decisions they should understand what we’re thinking about.

“Don’t forget--we’re here.”

If Bui actually is formally declared the winner today by a volunteer election committee, the Westminster businessman and his slate will assume control of the Vietnamese of Southern California organization.

Formed in the late 1980s, the group held informal elections in 1989 at a supermarket parking lot in Westminster to select leaders. According to local Vietnamese political observers, this latest election was the first time the group had tried to create an elaborate campaign and election system that included computerized voter registration and frequent debates on Little Saigon radio and Vietnamese-language television shows.

Chau Tue Carey, a lawyer from Vietnam, said she agreed to head a volunteer committee to organize the election because she considered it an opportunity to educate new immigrants.

“We want to teach the Vietnamese community about what is democracy,” she said. “And we wanted a representative for the community who could represent most of us.”

But during early attempts to revive the organization, some Vietnamese people privately lobbied against such a formal election. Critics questioned how a group could represent Southern California without polling places in Los Angeles, Riverside and San Diego counties.

“I told them I’m against it,” said one prominent Vietnamese resident who refused to participate. “I have my elected officials who represent me in the (state) Legislature, so I don’t see the need. People cannot just represent the Southern California Vietnamese American community. Why did they do this? We’re in a very transitional situation because of the forthcoming normalization and they wanted to be able to speak. Frankly, I think it’s crazy.”

The role of the new president is not very clear and some critics worry that the leadership could try to usurp the powers of the only local elected official of Vietnamese descent, Westminster City Councilman Tony Lam.

Lam himself has qualms, but said he is willing to work for the organization.

“I’m an advocate of unity,” Lam said. “I think it’s deplorable that some groups can’t admit defeat. It will be embarrassing to have continued division in the community.

“I know that the way the election was conducted was not really professional and it leaves room for complaint. But this is significant because for the first time so many people realized that they should try to come together.”

Two of the tickets that vied for the presidency were dominated by immigrant businessmen such as Bui and Huu Dinh Vo, the Pomona physician that headed the Ticket No. 1 slate. The third slate was formed by young Vietnamese professionals who were raised and educated in the United States.

“We didn’t have the kind of money or support as the other tickets, but we were trying to send the message that the younger generation should be involved,” said Chung Hu Nguyen, a computer analyst with ambitions to run for Congress. “We were trying to raise excitement.”

But it was the older generation that provoked the most controversy.

Their free-wheeling debates wandered from arguments about homelessness and youth gangs to a magazine writer’s controversial suggestion that the national anthem for South Vietnam should be dumped (“Over my dead body,” one candidate declared.)

“We also talked about health care,” said Thang Tuong, a member of Bui’s winning slate. “Many of the Vietnamese don’t have medical care and we need to help them. We also questioned each other about how strongly opposed we were to communism. We talked about the embargo and how we could bring about democracy in Vietnam. “

Before one forum, a shouting match erupted over whether candidates could debate each other directly. Steamed over the procedural shift, one slate candidate made a comment about rich people that Bui interpreted as a threat to himself.

When election day finally dawned on Jan. 2 at Bolsa Grande High School, the real political battle was waged by the older pols who engaged in a fierce drive to get out the vote. The victorious slate, headed by Bui, hired van drivers who ferried voters to the high school. Some participants noted that Bui’s slate--which included several Catholic candidates--was aided by the fortuitous arrival of worshipers leaving Sunday Mass.

Early the following morning, Bui’s group was declared the winner with 2,273 votes, with Vo’s slate close behind with 2,191 votes and the younger Vietnamese group trailing with 622.

Bui’s razor-thin victory set the stage for yet another round of political firefights.

Vo’s slate complained that the voting was allowed to continue 40 minutes past the scheduled closing time of 6 p.m. They also questioned a 162-vote discrepancy between the tally of the computer registration list and the actual vote. Some demanded a runoff election between the top finishers. The winners countered that Vo’s slate had agreed to the extension.

Publicly, Vo remained circumspect.

“I don’t think this is appropriate to discuss until a decision is made Sunday,” he said.

Publicly, Bui remained diplomatic.

“I’m waiting for the election committee to take a stand. But I’m sure that no one is going to go against the will of 5,000 people on Jan. 2,” he said.

On Thursday night, Bui and his cabinet officers gathered in their spare new headquarters at Brookhurst Square to launch their first project, a collection drive for earthquake victims.

As they loaded the bags of canned goods and sodas, they passed under a campaign banner still draped across the white-washed shopping mall that housed their office.

The slogan expressed their wistful hope: “United together we will serve.”