Book Release – UCR Media

My home institution UCR has really upped its game with media. This summer, they worked with me to develop a youtube video as well as write statements on my research for the alumni magazine. There were some bumps and starts in developing the film, one in particular was (to me) a funny reminder of generation gaps. Some of the Millennials in the video-editing crew thought that buying rights to a clip of “Huey” helicopters in the setting sun from the film “Apocalypse Now” would be a cool scene to start my promo video. (Not cool!) They replaced it with great, real footage. 

The online magazine version includes the film and the bio I wrote, quite like the layout! 

From UCR Magazine

 And the Press tells me the book is finally in stock!

Going Back to the Mekong Delta…

Next week I am excited to be a co-leader for the Leiden-based International Institute for Asian Studies’ In Situ Field School. The topic is “Delta Cities: Rethinking Practices of the Urban. I’ll be joined by two fellow “delta scholars” I very much admire:

Debjani Bhattarchaya – who has just come out with this FANTASTIC new book, Empire and Ecology in the Bengal Delta: The Making of Calcutta

John Agbonifo – who as a sociologist with historian tendencies has produced AMAZING studies on resource conflicts in the Niger Delta. 

Lục Bình (water hyacinth, Eichornia crassipes) on a Mekong Delta canal.
Photo Credit: David McCaskey

Also in tow will be two UCR graduate students from the History program, David McCaskey and Todd Luce. It’s a rare pleasure to share a trip to my study sites with them. Luce is completing a PhD on the water politics and history of the Salton Sea while McCaskey is just beginning his research on fisheries and development in Vietnam.  

UCR Video – The Vietnam War’s Environmental Legacy

I worked with our crackerjack media team this summer to develop this video about my research and my teaching at UCR designed to complement an article and press release on the soon-arriving book. Of interest to some, they wanted a location to shoot this that in some ways reflected connections to Vietnam.  I didn’t really know how closely the nearby March Field Air Museum’s exhibits might relate, but we found that this all-volunteer museum, drawing on contributions from veterans, has reconstructed a Vietnam-era firebase. Pics below capture some of our shooting “on set.”

 

Dr. Ellsberg and the Importance of Ground Truth

Last Saturday, I had the good fortune to join a book talk organized by professor of U.S. foreign relations Pierre Asselin for Daniel Ellsberg, the former Rand analyst and Pentagon official responsible for leaking the Pentagon Papers in 1972. Ellsberg has a new book, The Doomsday Machine,  published in December 2017. The book is a fascinating-yet-terrifying tour of American nuclear weapons strategies that for most of the fifties and sixties rested on one basic tactic should aggressions break out: total and overwhelming annihilation of the USSR, China and most of Europe. Summing up the book in a nutshell, there was no Plan B; and only after 1961 when American spy satellites confirmed the Soviets had only a handful of missiles did this nuclear planning ratchet down a bit. (See my piece on Corona photography in Vietnam here.) . For those who may not read Doomsday Machine, one other important fact Ellsberg dispels is that of the “football” or what President Trump in his tweets about Kim Jong Un detailed as his bigger “red button.” If readers take nothing else from the book, they should drop this notion that the President of the United States is solely responsible for launching nuclear warheads. Military officials further down the chain of command have had this ability since the early 1950s.  Another bit from the book that may surprise some historians of the 1960s and 70s is that when Ellsberg copied the thousands of pages in the Pentagon Papers taken from his Santa Monica office at Rand, he also copied material beyond it including a secret memo, NSSM-1, detailing Nixon’s strategy to expand the American war into Laos and Cambodia.

Meeting Dan Ellsberg

As an historian who spends most of my research time in the field, studying the places of the war in Vietnam rather than the halls of power that ordered it, I told Dr. Ellsberg how much I admired his principled stance as well as his incredible writing style–not only in these books but also in his now declassified reports such as “Revolutionary Judo: Working Notes on Vietnam No. 10.” I told him that his insights into the conflict put him right up there with another person I met on several occasions, Phạm Xuân Ẩn, a former Reuters and Time correspondent in Sài Gòn who it later turned out was a spy and general in the NLF. (Historian Larry Berman’s Perfect Spy details Ẩn’s story, at least the story Ẩn wanted told.) Like Ellsberg, Ẩn wrote detailed analyses of the situation in Vietnam and he was routinely consulted at the Time office in Saigon by American military and CIA specialists for his “take” on the insurgency. Ellsberg, like Ẩn, was a man who trafficked in secrets.

I managed to get a copy of my forthcoming book, Footprints, into Ellsberg’s hands, curious to get his take on my reading of many now-declassified reports and my perspective as an historian working on the ground in Vietnam today, exploring the rapidly-disappearing ruins of the American war. This is where the sharp-as-a-tack, 88-yr.-old surprised me. “You know, I was in Vietnam on the ground for two years. Read my other book, Secrets.” Ellsberg’s 2002 memoir of his travels to Vietnam and his eventual decision to leak the Pentagon Papers reveals an unexpectedly wild ride. Here was an analyst who not only synthesized reports but ground truthed them by spending time outside Saigon to see conditions for himself.

Ellsberg, mid-30s in the Mekong Delta, from Secrets: A Memoir of Vietnam and the Pentagon Papers

His chapters “Travels with Vann” and “Rach Kien” shocked me. Here was a man in his mid-thirties traveling with the arch druids of American counterinsurgency in Vietnam, Edward Lansdale and John Paul Vann.  He recounts how Vann insisted on not flying via helicopter like almost every other military and State Department observer in those days. Instead he drove Vietnam’s highways in an International Harvester full tilt with weapons at the ready, to see for himself how things were going on the ground.

“Travels with Vann” describes a series of road trips along highways that just months later would be brimming with deadly ambushes on U.S. soldiers.  In “Rach Kien” Ellsberg describes embedding with a U.S. Army infantry unit at a former NLF stronghold in the Mekong Delta south of Sài Gòn. While walking point with the platoon, Ellsberg comes under fire and describes participating in combat despite his official role as a civilian sent down to observe.  Here he considers multiple problems in the larger American military strategy called pacification.

What stands out to me as an historian focused on Vietnam was that Ellsberg was one of a very small number of higher-ranking American officials in Saigon who dared to hop in a car, hit the road and talk to people much less participate in such engagements.

One passage in the book, especially, captures the same fascination that I had for the layered, historic landscapes of conflict especially in central VietnamEllsberg describes driving south of Đà Nẵng on Highway 1 in spring 1966 to survey responses to the Buddhist protests. He notes “an unusual succession of abandoned fortifications, of various constructions, that dated from different periods successively further back in time.” (p. 134). His Vietnamese interpreter notes that one is French and then another series of rounded ones were Japanese. When they reach the crest of a hill, the interpreter points out a pile of rubble that is reputed to be a more ancient fort from a period of resistance to Chinese occupation in the 1400s.

I had a very similar experience when a guide pointed out to me beyond the rubble of the former US Army Phú Bài Combat Base were the ruins of French, Japanese and imperial Vietnamese bases. Ellsberg recounts a feeling that I believe many American soldiers felt as they explored this historic conflict zone:

“I knew we were following the French in Vietnam, who for all their colonialism were our allies in two world wars. But as someone who had grown up on movies of the war in the Pacific, and then on war stories in the Marines, I found it eerie to hear I was walking in the footsteps of Japanese invaders.”   (Secrets, p. 135)

This perfectly captures the metaphor of footprints that I use in my new book. Footprints of War is my attempt to write the history of a place where so many different soldiers have passed, showing how this more grounded perspective conflicts with and challenges the more common aerial views of war zones favored by generals, high-ranking officials and screen-viewing publics today.

Ground Truthers in Vietnam

Wolf Isaac Ladejinsky
Wold Ladejinsky

Of course Ellsberg wasn’t the first to hit the roads of Vietnam and report his findings.  Former OSS officers, US development officials and others repeatedly reported disturbing signs from the ground. A decade earlier, another State Department economist, Wolf Ladejinsky, traveled many of the same highways to report on the “rural situation.” (I describe his forays in my book Quagmire.) Ladejinsky was a child of Russian Jews who fled the communist revolution, and he established his reputation developing policies after 1945 designed to ensure the continuation of private rural economies in Japan and Taiwan. However, as a youth in New York who spoke Russian and worked with the Soviet allies in WW2, Ladejinsky was also a target of McCarthy’s red scare. Eisenhower did what he could to vouch for him, but ultimately Ladejinsky was forced out of his secret clearances and high-ranking posts. He was not fired from government service, however, as the McCarthyites had nothing on him; but he was forced to take a transfer…to Saigon in 1956.

What distinguished Ladejinsky from the moment of his arrival, like Ellsberg a decade later, was that he got out and talked to people. Unlike many Americans holed up at the Embassy or in the many coffee shops and bars, Ladejinsky traveled by road to the farthest corners of the delta. He met with former Viet Minh officials and described rampant corruption in the newly formed Republic of Vietnam. Like Ellsberg, Ladejinsky also wrote fantastic reports!

However, Ladejinsky’s reports for unknown reasons went almost a year before being received in Washington. When they landed, they earned him a lot of friction with peers in the Saigon embassy. This time he was forced to retire, tried in an administrative procedure on a weird, conflict of interest charge from his time in Taiwan later found to have no grounds. Remarkably, Ladejinsky stayed on another year in Saigon as an advisor to South Vietnamese President Diem before leaving to work for the World Bank in Nepal. (Robert McNamara suffered a similar, soft fate in 1968 when he left the White House to serve as the Bank’s president.)

Ground Truthing Today

What strikes me most in Ellsberg’s book and with others like Ladejinsky is how comparatively little reporting regarding American wars today in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria and Africa is coming from the ground. I’m not sure what new rules in the Patriot Act or other conditions have so thoroughly muzzled reporting from these fronts. C.J. Chivers’ recent essay for the Times War Without End” is a welcome exception though it describes actions from almost a decade ago. What’s vitally missing today in our continuing military conflicts is steady reporting from the ground. Of course, Ellsberg’s reports at the time were classified, so one may at least hope that similar internal reports on these “situations” today will eventually come to light. 

Escaping to the Early History of SE Asia This Autumn…

This autumn I get to teach one of my favorite survey courses at UCRiverside, a survey of early history in Southeast Asia. As a specialist on the twentieth century, the ancient past here offers me a return to the kinds of vacation-in-the-past adventures that sparked my childhood interests in studying history that led me here.

Ta Prohm Temple, Angkor Wat, 2005
Ta Prohm Temple, 2005

I know that as a professional historian I should frown upon the romantic fascination with ruins or at least throw in a footnote. But I nevertheless remain captivated by sites like this, a purposefully-left, crumbling temple at Angkor Wat. These places, their multi-layered, material histories and even the ways they figure into the politics of the present fascinate me.

During my research in the Mekong Delta as a graduate student, I had the good fortune to visit Dr. Pierre-Yves Manguin‘s archeological dig at Oc Eo, a site important to an ancient kingdom of waterways and a city of warehouses built on wooden pilings known widely as “Funan”.  Dr. Manguin’s research includes topics in my dream list of projects, the History of Boats in Island SE Asia.

2002. Re-surveying Malleret’s 1944 dig site at Oc Eo, Kien Giang, Vietnam

Through Pierre-Yves and a fantastic staff of archeologists and ceramacists affiliated with the French School of the Far East (EFEO), I was able to witness not only a fascinating excavation of ancient baths and a newly excavated pilgrimage site but also the scholarly diplomacy of a French organization working closely with Vietnamese institutions, scholars and agencies. 

I hope I can bring some of this escapist fascination with Southeast Asia’s ancient past to the enthusiastic young students at Riverside this fall. The materials are all nestled within our campus platforms, but I share my syllabus here.  

A French Cartographer in Tự Đức’s Kingdom, 1876-77

This first map contribution is one of my all-time favorites for the artistry of the cartographer and the story associated with it. In 1876, the government of the Third Republic made a sort of peace offering with the emperor of Đại Nam (Annam, Vietnam) in Huế, Tự Đức.  The offering consisted of three older, slightly out-of-date warships. The official purpose was to help the struggling Vietnamese kingdom re-establish a small fleet since French ships had devastated Vietnamese naval ships in the conquest of Sài Gòn (1862) and the Lower Mekong (1867). The emperor had also given France port space in present-day Đà Nẵng and Hà Nội. So the French government sent three naval captains on a joint military training mission with Vietnamese sailors and officers. Of course, a hidden agenda was to survey the hard-to-access imperial capital, note the defensive landscape and provide any other details that might be helpful should France need, in the future (1883-84 to be exact) to invade. Enter Jules Léon Dutreuil du Rhins, amateur cartographer and troubled naval captain, age 30.

Dutreuil du Rhins, 1884. Portrait by Eugène Pirot, wikipedia, public domain. 

Dutreuil du Rhins was one of a cohort of adventurous, mapmaking Europeans who set out to fulfill his government’s diplomatic and surveillance initiatives while also collecting personal anecdotes sufficient to launch himself through travel books and speaking events as a celebrity adventurer. Like many of his adventurer colleagues, however, Dutreuil du Rhins died young at 48, killed when Golog peoples in southeastern Tibet attacked his survey mission.  His last survey mission was published by others, and for the most part his reputation as a cartographer and adventurer faded.

When I encountered his Le royaume d’Annam et Annamites; journal de voyage, (Paris: E. Plon, 1879), I was immediately fascinated by his up-close-and-personal look at life in the beleaguered, war-ravaged imperial capital. The Nguyễn Emperor Minh Mạng had in by the 1830s pretty much banished most Europeans from the capital just as he put the finishing touches on a new Imperial City looking much like the Ming Dynasty city in Beijing. Forty years and several naval battles with France later, the monarchy was eager to get the new vessels and it seemed like maybe there was a possibility for co-existence, at least in the ancient, densely populated Vietnamese coastline stretching from Huế north to Hà Nội. 

Excerpt of his Carte du Hue.
Excerpt of his Carte d’Annam.
(Full res version)

When I pulled an original copy of Detreuil du Rhin’s book, I found these two map gems in the back. They represent one of the earliest public maps available to French reading audiences curious about this far-off kingdom that had recently ceded an area the size of France to Emperor Louis Napoleon in 1867. I discuss the survey mission in detail in my book, Footprints of War, (pp. 41-45) because such mapmaking played an outsized role in shaping French colonial ambitions about the potential productivity of these newly claimed lands. As one might expect, adventurers had a tendency to both minimize the challenge of dealing with unruly natives and maximizing the potential for unclaimed, uncultivated lands to yield profits on valuable industrial or export crops. 

Writes Dutreuil du Rhins of the people living around Huế:

More than half of the arable land in the province of Hue is still uncultivated, due to different causes that we have already spoken, mainly the laziness of the Annamese [Vietnamese] and their pitiful government. … The Annamite, for whom foreign trade is prohibited, has no interest in the rich crops which would cost him too much fatigue, and it is not encouraged to produce cereals beyond the needs of his consumption because the mandarins, cowardly and crawling with their superiors and as hard and rapacious with their inferiors, they soon despoil his reserves. Le Royaume d’Annam et les Annamites, 282-3.

If this kind of insulting-yet-purposeful language wasn’t enough, Detreuil du Rhin’s maps visually advanced this point by visually presenting what were deeply eroded, red-clay ravines carving the hills above Huế as gently sloping hills, allegedly still covered in a layer of topsoil, sure to nourish verdant crops of corn, tobacco, or jute. Meanwhile common features in maps of the day such as village names, fields and cemeteries were almost wholly erased. The following excerpt from the Carte de Hue (full-res version) in multiple senses covered over these facts-on-the-ground and for specific purposes. They provided would-be French readers-turned-colonizers an image of a place where they might pursue their fortunes in these greener, gently sloping pastures. Dutreuil du Rhons was, like many adventurer-cartographers of his day, was like a 19th century real estate agent, shaping both the state’s and the public’s ideas of what such far-off places as Annam might be like. 

 

UC Study Abroad in Hue 2019

We are finally going again! Next summer Hồng Anh and I will lead the UC Exchange Abroad Program to Vietnam in Huế for five weeks. Unfortunately the program is only open now to UC students, but it will be good to return with the family! If you know of students interested in going, let me know. 

One nice souvenir from past trips is the blog “Hue Stories” that the American and Vietnamese students produce. Following here is a one story I particularly enjoyed – Boy with a Camera – by UCR student Phong Hong about his Vietnamese student partner Nhat Hao Tran Dinh

IMG_0757 copy

Vietnam: The Chemical War

Next month I’ll be speaking at UNC-Greensboro on October 18th at 7:30pm on the subject of chemicals and the Vietnam War. The talk is part of a year-long series of talks organized to reflect on the 1960s, and I’ll talk about recent research completed as part of my new book Footprints of War: Militarized Landscapes in Vietnam but I’m also hosting a rare film showing from one of Vietnam’s greatest living documentary filmmakers, Trần Văn Thủy. The film we will see is one that received very little attention, “Story from the Corner of a Park” about a war veteran struggling to make a living taking pictures in Hà Nội’s central Lenin Park. Its a wonderful, anachronous piece for two reasons: (1) a growing number of Vietnam War veterans are passing on, leaving only stories and, in some cases, children with illnesses associated to chemical exposures (2) the urban landscapes of Hà Nội have changed so much from this early 2000s film.

For those more familiar with American soldiers’ experiences with the war and especially concerns about Agent Orange, the film is a little-publicized mirror from the Vietnamese side. For details on the pre-talk film showing, please contact Prof. James Anderson at jamie_anderson@uncg.edu.

David Biggs Lecture “Vietnam: the Chemical War”

The talk draws in part from an op-ed in the New York Times that I wrote to address a slightly different issue: the total chemical footprint of the 1960s war extending beyond just the one infamous chemical Agent Orange to  include a host of others such as CS, napalm, now-banned insecticides, carcinogenic solvents, and others. I encouraged reader to check out the “readers pick” comments. Here we see not just the range of emotionally and ethically charged responses from readers but many more detailed comments by former chemical platoon helicopter pilots, doctors performing plastic surgery, policymakers and others. 

Shortly after the op-ed published, an official from the US Embassy in Cambodia emailed me. He’d read the article and wondered if I knew anything about recent Cambodian claims of buried American chemical waste.  I shared my archival data on chemical missions involving CS and even put him in touch with the chemical platoon helicopter pilot who’d commented on the NYTimes site.  The US continued the painstakingly long process of decontaminating sites and working with SE Asian governments to remove unexploded ordnance, contaminated soils, and other remains.

Given the recent discussions about the Syrian government dropping barrel bombs on civilians, I this image from the National Archives shows that they were not the originators of this practice. The image below shows the practice what I think is a “bulk flame drop” – a drop of 55-gallon drums of napalm –  per official U.S. Army photographs. “Bulk smoke drops” of CS involved pushing fused barrels out the cargo bay of the CH-47 “Chinook”. Army Chemical Corps soldiers netted the napalm to hang from below since it was a payload of gelled gasoline (!). The barrels dropped a few thousand feet before jet strafing fire ignited them just over the target, often networks of tunnels or bunkers. The aim was to incinerate or asphyxiate enemy combatants (and anyone else) below.

Source: US National Archives, RG 472, United States Army Vietnam, Chemical Units, 184th Chemical Platoon, Organizational History, 1960 thru 1971, Box 5.