[Vacets-local-dc] [Vietnamese communists: Greatest slaves of ideology]

Fri Jun 10 12:04:39 PDT 2005

Hello,

To help people understand the generation of communists like the Vietnamese Prime Minister who will visit the U.S. June 19 to June 25, I would like to share with you the following:

An aspect of communist tyranny in Vietnam that is absolutely imcomprehensible for Americans is their fanatisicm of slavery to the communist ideology. It is to such an inhuman extent that a communist cadre advances in his career from an unknown, mediocre poet to reach the position of Politburo member, then Vice Premier for Economics. And when he died a few years ago, he was named the "Conscience of the Vietnamese Communist Party."

His name is To Huu, the poet laureate of communist Vietnam for 50 years! (Before his death, he gave an interview to a media cadre denying all his crimes during his long life as ruthless dictator. But that is another stoy for another time.) 

How did he become so successful: By being utmost loyal to communists, led by Stalin. The following poem (roughtly translated) is his most famous and earliest of his revolutionary zeal. He was also the leader of the persecution of artists and writers in North Vietnam during 1956-1958 when the VCP copied the policy of the Chinese in the "Let Hundred Flowers Bloom." The flowers that bloomed were afterwards exterminated!

There is currentlly an effort of rewriting the past in Vietnam. High school students today are not told of the following poem any more and it does not appear in the latest edition of textbooks.

As George Orwell put it, "He who controls the present, controls the past; he who controls the past, controls the future." The Vietnamese communists are indeed very good students of Orwell.

Hai

P.S. In my work here, I have met many delegations from Hungary, Poland, Romania, i.e., the former communist country in Eastern Europe. I once asked them if, during the domination of the Soviet Union, there were poets and writers who would write such poems. They sheepishly laughed and said, "There were some, but never to that level."

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The poem in Vietnamese:

&#272;&#7901;i &#272;&#7901;i Nh&#7899; Ông 

T&#7889; H&#7919;u 

B&#7919;a tr&#432;&#7899;c m&#7865; cho con xem &#7843;nh 
Ông Xtalin bên c&#7841;nh nhi &#273;&#7891;ng 
Áo ông tr&#7855;ng gi&#7919;a mây h&#7891;ng 
M&#7855;t ông hi&#7873;n h&#7853;u mi&#7879;ng ông m&#7881;m c&#432;&#7901;i 

Trên &#273;&#7891;ng xanh mênh mông 
Ông &#273;&#7913;ng v&#7899;i em nh&#7887; 
C&#7893; em quàng kh&#259;n &#273;&#7887; 
M&#7897;t ni&#7873;m tin 
H&#432;&#7899;ng t&#432;&#417;ng lai hai ông cháu cùng nhìn 
Xtalin!

Yêu bi&#7871;t m&#7845;y nghe con t&#7853;p nói 
Ti&#7871;ng &#273;&#7847;u lòng con g&#7885;i Xta-lin ! 
M&#7891;m con th&#417;m s&#7919;a xinh xinh 
Nh&#432; con chim c&#7911;a hòa bình tr&#7855;ng trong 
&#272;êm qua loa g&#7885;i ngoài &#273;&#7891;ng 
Ti&#7871;ng loa xé ru&#7897;t xé lòng bi&#7871;t bao ! 
Làng trên xóm d&#432;&#7899;i xôn xao 
Ngôi sao sáng nh&#7845;t tr&#7901;i cao b&#259;ng r&#7891;i ! 

Xtalin &#417;i ! 
H&#7905;i &#417;i! Ông m&#7845;t, &#273;&#7845;t tr&#7901;i bi&#7871;t không ? 
Th&#432;&#417;ng cha, th&#432;&#417;ng m&#7865;, th&#432;&#417;ng ch&#7891;ng 
Th&#432;&#417;ng mình th&#432;&#417;ng m&#7897;t, th&#432;&#417;ng Ông th&#432;&#417;ng m&#432;&#7901;i 
Yêu con yêu n&#432;&#7899;c yêu &#273;&#7901;i 
Yêu bao nghiêu l&#7841;i yêu Ng&#432;&#7901;i b&#7845;y nhiêu

Ngày x&#432;a khô héo qu&#7841;nh hiu 
Bây gi&#7901; m&#7899;i có ít nhi&#7873;u vui t&#432;&#417;i 
Ngày x&#432;a &#273;ói rách t&#417;i b&#7901;i 
Bây gi&#7901; m&#7899;i có &#273;&#432;&#7907;c n&#7891;i c&#417;m no 
Ngày x&#432;a cùm k&#7865;p giày vò 
Bây gi&#7901; m&#7899;i có t&#7921; do tháng ngày 
Ngày mai dân có ru&#7897;ng cày 
Ngày mai &#273;&#7897;c l&#7853;p &#417;n này nh&#7899; ai ? 
&#416;n này, nh&#7899; &#273;&#7875; hai vai 
M&#7897;t vai &#417;n Bác, m&#7897;t vai &#417;n Ng&#432;&#7901;i 

Con còn bé d&#7841;i con &#417;i 
Mai sau con nhé, tr&#7885;n &#273;&#7901;i nh&#7899; Ông ! 
Th&#432;&#417;ng Ông, m&#7865; nguy&#7879;n trong lòng 
Yêu làng yêu n&#432;&#7899;c yêu ch&#7891;ng yêu con 
Ông dù &#273;ã khu&#7845;t không còn 
Chân Ông còn mãi d&#7845;u son trên &#273;&#432;&#7901;ng

Trên &#273;&#432;&#7901;ng quê sáng tinh s&#432;&#417;ng 
Sáng nay nghi ngút khói h&#432;&#417;ng xóm làng 
Ngàn tay tr&#7855;ng nh&#7919;ng b&#259;ng tang 
N&#7889;i li&#7873;n khúc ru&#7897;t nh&#7899; th&#432;&#417;ng &#273;&#7901;i &#273;&#7901;i. 

(&#272;&#7901;i &#272;&#7901;i Nh&#7899; Ông, 5/1953) 

Nhà Xu&#7845;t B&#7843;n V&#259;n H&#7885;c Hà N&#7897;i, 1979 (Publishing House of Literature, Hanoi, 1979)

Roughly translated (partly from James Banerian's "Losers Are Pirates")

FOREVER REMEMBER YOU

The other day, a mother showed
Her small child a picture
Of Mr. Stalin beside a little child
Wearing a white shirt, surrounded by red clouds
With gentle eyes and a smile on his face

On the broad green field
He stood with the child
Who wore a red scarf on his neck
Toward the future
The two of them gazed together

Stalin! Stalin!
How much I love it when I hear my child
learn to say your name!
The first word he uttered is "Stalin!"
His beautiful mouth still has the milk fragrance
Like that of the bird of innocent peace

Last night the villagecrier wailed
As if tearing out our hearts
Village above and hamlet below
All rendered distraught:
The brightest star has just died! You!

Oh, Stalin! You have just passed away,
But Heaven and earth beware:
I love my papa and mama, I love my husband
And myself just once. But You I love ten times!
I love my child, I love my country and my life 
However much I love, I love You so much

In days past our life was gloomy and dry
Now we begin to taste happiness
In times past we were hungry and destitute
Now we have full rice pans

Before we were mistreated and abused
Now freedom is given everyday
Tomorrow, people will have field to plow
Tomorrow, independence. Who will we remember for this?

Bear this favor on your two shoulders
One for Uncle Ho, and the other Stalin
Oh, son! You are still too young
When you grow up, remember Him forever
Loving Him, I pledge
To love village, country, husband, and child
And even though he has passed away
His footsteps are still illuminating on the road,

And on every road this early morning
Joss-sticks are burned to worship Him
And thousands of white armbands
Show our eternal remembrance of Him, Stalin! 

To Huu

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You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.

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