A Lightning Rod With a Stormy History

He portrays himself as a moderate who only wanted to start a dialogue.

But it would only make sense that the man who single-handedly sparked an explosion of anti-communist furor in Orange County’s Little Saigon--unifying a notoriously fragmented community--is complex, contradictory and passionate.

Truong Van Tran, who ignited anger in the Vietnamese American community by hanging a Communist flag and a portrait of Ho Chi Minh in his Bolsa Avenue video store, has journeyed down a tortuous life path. A refugee who fled communism, he dug into dumpsters to make a living, sought to lead a spiritual group as a self-proclaimed god, started a business and finally became a lightning rod for the anger of his own people.

That anger exploded on Monday in a demonstration that drew 10,000 people, capping weeks of mounting protest. It was the largest gathering ever of Vietnamese Americans, a community now unified like never before.

“I know it makes the community angry,” said Tran, 37, who says he loves the Vietnamese American community and acted only to force his compatriots to face reality. “But once they get past the anger, they will see the issue. They will understand I am right.”

Another view emerges in public records and interviews with those who know him: a man with an angry temper and a passion for the spotlight.

“He wanted to do something to get attention,” said Vinh Ly, an official with a global meditation group that Tran sought to lead in 1989. “That’s who he is. That’s why he does things. He wanted to be famous. He doesn’t care whether it’s for the right things or wrong things.”

In the Beginning, Hate for Communism

Ironically enough, Tran began his life in a family that hated communism. He was born in Dong Thap, a village in southwestern Vietnam. His parents farmed the land and ran a small business. One of seven children, Tran said he remembers the war years vividly.

“Every morning, I heard the bombing, it was almost like fireworks,” he said. “My family was completely against the Communists before 1975. I wanted to join the army and fight the Communists.”

He was 14 when Saigon fell to Communist troops in April 1975 and North and South Vietnam were reunified under the current regime, the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. Tran said two cousins died fighting Communist troops; his eldest brother lost an eye and his brother-in-law lost a leg.

His oldest brother was sent to a re-education camp for five years. After getting out of that camp in 1980, he led Tran and two sisters to Thailand on a small boat packed with 89 people. During the three-day journey they were robbed twice by Thai pirates, Tran remembers.

“If you went, you had to accept the risk of dying. But there was no other way,” he said. “I had to leave because I couldn’t see the situation improving. There was no future. . . . There was no freedom.”

Not long after arriving in California in June 1980, Tran joined a meditation group called Vo Vi, which claims millions of followers worldwide.

After several years of study, Tran began to feel a change in his spiritual state. Uncertain of what was occurring, he asked for guidance from Ong Tam, the group’s leader.

“I asked the master if I was possessed by a spirit,” he says. “He said no. He told me my mind had been opened up and enlightened. He said I was a chosen one, that I had a spiritual gift.”

Tran said it was only then, after the group’s leader acknowledged his gifts, that he began lecturing in 1987. He admits that he began proclaiming himself “God,” but says he did so only because he felt Vo Vi’s leader had given him that title.

Dressed in white suits, Tran would travel around the country, from Washington, D.C., to Texas to Oregon, talking to small groups of 40 to 100 people at a time on his meditation techniques. At one meeting, Tran even had members crawl under his outstretched legs “as a test to show they believed in me,” he said.

“They would call me ‘Father.’ Everywhere I went, people would come listen to me,” he said. “If [Ong Tam] had not given his blessing, I wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

But longtime Vo Vi members paint a vastly different account: Contrary to his claim, Tran was never given the blessing of the group’s leader. He was an angry, domineering man who demanded attention, many say.

“He was very young, very idealistic, but very fanatic,” said Xuan-An Le, wife of the Westminster Vo Vi chapter’s president. “If he says something, it is always in loud, strong, definite terms. If anybody says anything different, he would jump up and scream at you.”

At a 1989 national conference held in Northern California, Tran sought to seize leadership of the group, said Mai Nguyen, vice president of the Northern California branch of Vo Vi.

“He proclaimed that he is god. He proclaims he wants to sit in a chair higher than Ong Tam’s chair. Basically his attitude is very haughty--and we always show gratitude and respect to our spiritual leader and master,” she said.

Tran denied trying to seize control of Vo Vi. “I never wanted to set up my own group,” he said. “I always followed the rules.”

Leaving the Vo Vi group behind, Tran returned to Orange County and was married in 1989 to a woman he met in the group: Kim-Khanh Thi Nguyen, now 41. The couple moved to Stanton and had two children, Fritzi, 5, and Don, 3. They gave them the surname of Washington to show their admiration and respect for George Washington, he said.

Tran says he had difficulty finding a job because of his poor English. For a time the two depended on Nguyen’s income as a computer programmer. Tran said he helped make money by salvaging TVs and VCRs from neighborhood dumpsters and selling them at swap meets.

Eventually he took electronics courses and learned to repair the appliances. He opened his store, Hi Tek TV and VCR, in 1996.

It was during these years that Tran’s feelings about the current Vietnamese government began to shift, he says. Over the course of four trips to Vietnam beginning in 1990, Tran saw marked improvement in the economic and physical well-being of the people in his homeland.

When the U.S. government lifted a two-decade-old embargo against Vietnam in 1994, Tran showed up to support the head of the Vietnamese Chamber of Commerce, Dr. Co Pham, who stirred community protest by supporting trade with the Communist nation.

Despite the instant condemnation of community members, Tran continued his public support of reconciliation, going so far as to print 20,000 fliers expressing his beliefs and organizing a forum to debate the merits of normalizing business ties. He later published 12 editions of a newsletter extolling the benefits of U.S.-Vietnam ties.

Learning That ‘The Law Is the Law’

Tran’s life took another turn in October 1997, when he was arrested for hitting his wife. He pleaded guilty to the misdemeanor, paid $350 in fines and was sentenced to 20 days in jail with three years probation. Tran said the incident happened because he was under stress from financial difficulties and was working 20 hours a day.

But he says it was this incident that taught him the power of the law in the United States.

“When I hit my wife and went to court, I told the judge that in Vietnam, husbands can hit their wives and it’s no big deal. But the judge told me, ‘This is America. You have to follow the law here.’ Then he banged the gavel, and I spent 20 days in jail,” he said. “I have to accept it. The law is the law.”

It was that lesson in the power of the law, Tran says, that led him to express his 1st Amendment rights by hanging the Communist flag and photo of the Vietnamese leader Ho Chi Minh, who died in 1969.

Tran strongly denies widespread rumors that he is a pawn of the Hanoi government. In fact, he rejected an offer of assistance that came from the Vietnamese Consulate in San Francisco after the protests began.

“This is my idea. I didn’t want their help because then everyone would say I was part of Hanoi. If you let it look like someone else pulls your strings, then you don’t have any credibility left,” he said.

Tran--who faces eviction from his store, along with the daily protests outside--vows to fight to keep the items up, saying his spiritual background has helped him maintain a strong will in the matter. Those who say he simply seeks publicity are wrong, he said.

“They can say whatever they want about me, but I know I have the right to do this,” he said. “People have loved me and hated me. I don’t care about fame. I want people to pay attention to me so they can understand about the issues I’m talking about.”

Times staff writers Janet Wilson, H.G. Reza and Nancy Wride contributed to this story.