Flag Inflames Old Passions in Little Saigon

They call it the flag of blood, a hurtful symbol of the oppressive regime that destroyed a country, sent thousands of Vietnamese to prison and millions fleeing across the seas.

And in all the years since April 30, 1975, when the capital of South Vietnam fell to Communist North Vietnamese troops, the hurt and pain have not subsided for survivors who have spent the last two decades rebuilding their lives.

So when Truong Van Tran decided this week to display the red Communist Vietnamese flag and a photo of leader Ho Chi Minh in the middle of Orange County’s Little Saigon, many Vietnamese Americans felt he was flouting their suffering. Hundreds of protesters took to the streets in a spontaneous eruption of anger and remained until the items were removed Thursday.

Most surprising to outsiders may be the fact that the protest happened at all. Anti-Communist fervor in the Westminster neighborhood, where political violence once was common, has been far less visible in recent years.

But the passion remains. It is kept alive in part by a continuing stream of released political prisoners, and also by the sense that Little Saigon--de facto capital of the Vietnamese emigre community worldwide--must uphold the values of a lost nation.

“This is a sacred town,” said Viet Dzung, news anchor for a Vietnamese-language station called Radio Bolsa, which also broadcasts in Houston, Texas, and San Jose. “This is an area where Communism should not get in. So they feel that they are violated. That’s why you see outbursts of feelings and passions.”

With about 300,000 Vietnamese Americans in Orange County and the surrounding region, Little Saigon is seen as the ultimate anti-Communist stronghold.

“This is not just a flag or a photo, but the history of a country’s tragedy,” said community activist Phong Thanh Duc Tran. “If the community didn’t react strongly, then there’d be more people doing this thing. If we’re not careful, Little Saigon will turn into Little Ho Chi Minh City. We cannot let that happen.”

And members of the community say they believe the Hanoi government keeps a close eye on events here, because it serves as a barometer of Vietnamese American reaction elsewhere.

“We know that Hanoi is watching,” said protester Ngo Ky. “If we didn’t protest, they would think we don’t care anymore. This sends a message that Communism is not welcome here.”

Many in the community recognize that freedom of speech--particularly on political matters--is a pillar of the American values they have come to embrace. But by displaying offensive symbols in a very public place, Tran laid down a challenge they couldn’t ignore.

“We know everyone has the right to freedom of speech, but he went too far,” said Thang Ngoc Tran, a community leader. “He provoked the anger of the Vietnamese community.”

When anti-Communist feelings were at a fever pitch during the 1980s and into the early 1990s, anyone who spoke in favor of the Vietnamese government--or even just normalizing relations with Hanoi--risked violence.

Businesses believed to be supportive of the Communist government were firebombed. Radical anti-Communist groups claimed responsibility for violent acts throughout the Vietnamese American community nationwide.

Garden Grove publisher Tap Van Pham was killed in an arson attack in 1987. Pham was targeted by extremist groups because his entertainment weekly ran ads for companies believed by some to be fronts for the Communist government.

In recent years, however, attitudes have begun to shift--particularly among the younger generation--on the merits of normalizing relations.

And since the United States lifted its embargo against Vietnam in 1994, tens of thousands of Vietnamese Americans have returned to their homeland to visit family members and friends and even set up businesses.

A Los Angeles Times poll performed while the embargo-lifting was under debate found that a majority of Vietnamese Americans in Southern California supported renewing business ties with Vietnam. Then, and now, many say they believe that economic changes will, at the very least, improve the lives of relatives and friends back home and could lead the way to political reform.

All the same, last week’s demonstrations showed that while the community may be divided on how to bring about political change in Vietnam, it remains adamant about Communism.

“I have been very upset about this but also very glad that the community came together to fight it,” said community activist Ky. “No one planned this protest. We all came out on our own because this is something we have to do.”

Helping to keep anti-Communist passion alive more than 20 years after the war ended are the political prisoners--some 50,000 veterans plus their families--who have made their way to the United States since 1989.

Most of them have settled in Orange County, where they are referred to as the “HO people,” a term derived from the program Humanitarian Operation, which brought them to the United States.

They are relative newcomers, and they bring with them fresh memories of pain and loss that keep their anger alive.

“I remember the years I spent waiting to die while I was prison,” said Quang Ngo Le, 60. “The Communists took away my life. I hate them.”

Le spent seven years in a “re-education camp” in the jungle for having served in the South Vietnamese Army. When he got out, he found he had lost his home and his property. He spent years begging in the streets for survival.

In 1994, he was granted permission to emigrate to the United States but arrived to find he was ill-equipped to start over again. Le said he has had difficulty learning English and getting a good job.

When he and other veterans heard about the photo and flag display on the radio, they gathered en masse in front of the store.

“I still have nightmares about being in prison again,” Le said. “Seeing that flag is like a knife in my heart. He has no right to spit on our pain.”