Family friends and country Nguyen Thi Binh

From 1957 until 1959, I studied in the first long-term course on theory
and debate at the Nguyễn Ái Quốc Academy.[7] For the most part, the
students were officials who had had no opportunity to study during the
Resistance War Against France. Like them, this was also my first chance
to study theory systematically. I approached the course contents, which
were new and intriguing, with great interest. At the same time, I was
caring for my newborn son. Meanwhile, Khang was working for the
military in the Right Bank Region of the Red River not too far from Hà
Nội; he would return home to visit us every few weeks. He and I had
endured years of long and difficult separation. We had so many questions
we had never been able to discuss. Now, at last, we could once again share
confidences.

After I finished my studies at the Party school, I returned to the
Central-Level Women’s Union, where I was elected to its Party
commission, with responsibility for social welfare. Through this
assignment, I visited many northern localities and acquired a greater
understanding of ordinary people’s difficulties. Of course, I concentrated
on women, who were the country’s main productive force in addition to
caring for their families and their communities’ welfare.

During 1956 and 1957, the Sài Gòn authorities intensified their terror,
arresting those who had been active in the Resistance during the French
War. No one among our people wanted war to return. The Party Central
Level urged us to stay firmly committed to political struggle. We brothers
and sisters who had regrouped to the North were eagerly hoping for early
elections[8] to re-unite our country so we could also return home and re-
unite with our families in the Southern Region. However, we have a
saying: “Trees may wish for quiet, but their longing does not keep the

wind from blowing.” After two years, we were denied the elections as
stipulated in the Geneva Agreement. Indeed, the enemy’s oppression and
terror grew crueler every day.

We can reasonably call 1958 and 1959 the Years of White Terror. People
in every area of the South seethed with vindictive hatred as the US-backed
Sài Gòn administration waged a one-sided war against our people. Before
long, the Party had to shift its directive from political struggle exclusively
to political struggle coordinated with armed struggle.

On December 20, 1960, we established the National Liberation Front
(NLF) of South Việt Nam.[9] This news, like rain falling after a drought,
satisfied the people’s deep, expectant longing. The entire country burst
forth with determination to fight the Americans. In the North, a movement
boiled up among those of us southerners who had regrouped to the North.
We asked to return to the South in order to struggle directly alongside our
compatriots. During those days, the chance to “Go to B”[10] was every
person’s greatest wish and highest honor.

Sisters at the Central-Level Women’s Union prepared to leave on their
march to the South. Older Sisters Lê Đoan[11] and Phương[12] were both
journalists, whose husbands had stayed behind in the South. They received
first priority. Like them, I received ideological orientation from Older
Sister Mười Thập in order to return to the South. Then, at the beginning of
1961, comrades from the Re-Unification Committee came to the Women’s
Union and asked to “borrow” me for six months to work for the NLF in
foreign affairs.

*

**

After the NLF’s formation, the people’s struggle in the South erupted
with vigor. In 1960 and 1961, the General Uprising[13] exploded in Bến
Tre Province, spread quickly to neighboring Mỹ Tho (Tiền Giang) and
Đồng Tháp Provinces, and then rippled across the entire South. We
realized we needed to develop a diplomatic front synchronized with the
political and military fronts.

A part of me wavered when I first heard the news that I had been
assigned to work in foreign affairs. It is true that I had skills in French,
had been an activist in Sài Gòn, and had worked directly with many
different groups of people. However, except for part of my childhood in
Cambodia, I had never left the country. Yet the South was my flesh and
blood; I could not refuse any task!

In the middle of 1961, I returned to the Re-Unification Committee,
which assigned me to its Foreign Affairs Section under Comrade Lê Toàn
Thư,[14] with Hoàng Bích Sơn[15] (also known as Hồ Liên) as chief-of-
cabinet. I served as deputy department head for Comrade Võ Đông Giang,
[16] who, several months later, became head of Department 1A, with
responsibility for NLF people-to-people diplomacy.[17] By this time, we
had established people’s mass organizations in the NLF. Using the NLF’s
newly formalized status, we sent delegations to participate in meetings
organized by collegial international organizations. Our Liberation Youth
of the South became a member organization of the World Federation of
Democratic Youth (FMJD, Fédération Mondiale de La Jeunesse
Démocratique); our Union of Liberation Trade Unions joined the
Federation of World Trade Unions (FSM, Fédération Syndicale Mondiale);

and our Vietnamese Peace Committee took part in the Committee for
World Peace (CPM, Comité de Paix Mondiale).

At the end of 1961, Việt Nam fielded its first delegations to
international events for peoples’ organizations. Older Brother Nguyễn Văn
Tâm (nicknamed Mười Ù, literally “Tenth Gain,” because he was a little
heavy) led a delegation to the World Congress of Trade Unions, while
Nguyễn Văn Hiếu[18] went to the World Peace Congress. Both
organizations met in Moscow. In June 1962, I joined the World Congress
of Youth (UIE) in Budapest and then, in July 1962, attended the World
Congress of Democratic Youth in Leningrad along with poet Thanh
Hải[19] and Dr. Nguyễn Xuân Thủy. At that time, I was thirty-seven and
had to register my age as thirty-two in order to qualify as a youth.

When I joined the Re-Unification Committee, we all changed our
names in order to maintain secrecy. Nguyễn Văn Đức, one of the comrades
leading the Re-Unification Committee, suggested I take the name of Bình
since “bình” means “peace.” Then, he said, whenever I went overseas, it
would be easier to create sympathy and, besides, Bình was also an easy
name for foreigners to say. At his suggestion, I changed my name from
Yến Sa, my alias throughout the Resistance War Against France, to
Nguyễn Thị Bình.

The first two international congresses I joined were in two socialist
countries—the Soviet Union and Hungary, which supported us by covering
all costs for travel, housing, and food. Thus, our conditions for social
action were indeed favorable. For the first time, these conference
participants met colleagues from the South, that is to say, they met real

“Việt Cộng.” Everyone was delighted to see us; we were showered with
affection and admiration.

“You Vietnamese are so small,” they would say. “How can you fight the
Americans so heroically?!” Some participants were confused and said,
“The United States is so rich. Why would the Americans invade Việt
Nam?”

Our mission was to explain to our friends the meaning and the
principled nature of our struggle.

We always had two delegations at such international meetings. One
came from the Democratic Republic of Việt Nam (the DRVN or “North
Việt Nam”) and the other from the National Liberation Front of South Việt
Nam (the NLF or “Việt Cộng”). The conference presidium would always
ask Việt Nam to take the floor first. The DRVN delegation would then
yield to the NLF delegation. Whenever we climbed on stage, the entire
audience would stand, for our struggle had gained admiration from the
world’s peace-loving, progressive groups. We asserted that the people of
South Việt Nam had no alternative but to rise up against the invading
enemy and no wish other than to live in peace and enjoy normal lives like
everyone else.

These words, which we conveyed with sincerity and simplicity, won the
participants’ hearts, minds, and empathy. Whenever I spoke, I was deeply
moved, for the sentiments I expressed came from my heart. I saw clearly
that I was trying to tell our friends from five continents about the profound
aspiration of the millions of my compatriots suffering and dying at that
very moment in an unbelievably arduous struggle.

*

**

My six months “on loan” to work in foreign affairs had ended, but I
could not return to the Women’s Union. Every day, we in the NLF office
needed to expand and develop our diplomatic front in coordination with
the military and political fronts. Further, I had become a foreign-affairs
staff person. Of course, I never imagined that I would continue that work
for fourteen years, until 1976, when the South was completely liberated
and our country was formally re-united.

Those fourteen years brought many experiences, gave me a different
“forté,” and were an important life season.

Beginning in 1962, I was continuously active on the international front,
joining meetings and friendship visits and then participating in official
delegations. At the end of 1962, I traveled to Indonesia with Professor
Nguyễn Văn Hiếu, general secretary of the NLF Executive Committee.
This was the Front’s first official visit to a foreign country. At that time,
the Indonesian Communist Party had more than three million members
plus ten million youth members in Party mass organizations. The Party
had a positive influence on President Sukarno,[20] whom Indonesians
regarded as the father of Indonesian independence. Indonesia and Việt
Nam shared close, analogous points of history, for Việt Nam seized
political power two days after Indonesia, and then both countries faced
long wars to achieve their independence. The two Communist Parties of
the two countries were close. Indonesian Party General Secretary Dipa

Nusantara Aidit[21] had great respect and admiration for Uncle Hồ, whom
he had met in Indonesia.

When we arrived in Jakarta, the Indonesian protocol staff wanted to
know the delegation members’ diplomatic ranks in order to prepare the
appropriate official welcoming ceremony. I did not know how to identify
us. I said we were from the National Liberation Front of South Việt Nam,
which was like a government, and so the members of our delegation were
like the Front’s ministers. After that, the Indonesians greeted our
delegation according to the exact protocol for a government and
sometimes with even more ceremony.

President Sukarno and many ministers of state wanted to meet with us.
The Communist Party and mass organizations, including the youth and the
women, organized gatherings to welcome us and expressed strong support
for the Vietnamese people’s struggle. The revolutionary fervor in
Indonesia at that time brought me great delight.

*

**

One event early in my diplomatic life is something I can never forget.
Perhaps I can say that these were my first steps as a diplomat. The
occasion was my second visit to Indonesia in around 1964. Our task was to
encourage the Indonesian government to allow the NLF to open A
representative-level diplomatic office in Indonesia. I needed to meet
President Sukarno, but I did not know how to arrange such a meeting.

Comrade Aidit suggested I attend a gala, where I might meet the
president. I immediately agreed. The Indonesians’ organization for the
gala was monumental; all the elite Indonesians were present. Aidit
whispered a few words to President Sukarno. The president came up and
invited me to be his partner for the opening dance. I was terribly distressed
because I did not know how to dance! Yet my assignment was to speak
with the president in order to advance the Front’s request.

I summoned my courage and accepted his invitation. I took advantage
of the first few minutes to introduce myself and present the Front’s wish.
But after several dancing steps, I was totally confused. Comrade Aidit
must have perceived the awkward situation. He hurried up and
accompanied me away to a seat. By then, many people were on the dance
floor. Perhaps the president and his other guests forgot about my lack of
sophistication. In truth, my incompetence mortified me, but I reminded
myself that at least I had completed my responsibility to my country.

We also heard of General Suharto,[22] the infamous anti-communist
based in Bandung. Then, in 1965, a military coup raided the offices of the
Indonesian Communist Party and its affiliated organizations, shattering
the Party structure. A terrible massacre occurred; the army arrested and
assassinated many Party leaders. This news deeply saddened us. It was
especially painful because we could not help the friends who had
wholeheartedly done so much for us.

For a long while, I had no chance to visit Indonesia. Only in 1991, after
more than twenty years, was I able to join the delegation of President Võ
Chí Công[23] to the Non-Aligned Movement’s summit in Jakarta.

Indonesia had changed perceptibly, but I was sad not to meet our friends
from years past.

*

**

The most memorable event for me in 1963 was the third congress of the
Afro-Asian Peoples’ Solidarity Organization (AAPSO). It took place in
Tanzania in March. Việt Nam’s resounding victories were a major
inspiration for the national liberation movements of colonized peoples. In
1962, Algeria had gained independence from French colonialism. Facing
the turbulent movement for national liberation, the British imperialists
had granted independence to many countries. The Non-Aligned Movement
had been established, implementing the Bandung spirit.[24]

The Afro-Asian Peoples’ Solidarity Organization came into being
within that context. Tanzania, a country in East Central Africa, had just
won its independence from the British imperialists. People often said that
the British were more “fair” than the French. I had never been sure of that
statement. In fact, in Tanzania, I saw that the statement was inaccurate.
Tanzania was such a vast country with huge, dense forests, yet it had very
poorly developed agriculture. We drove several hundred kilometers along
modern asphalt roads. The land was empty and deserted. Now and then, we
could see some farmers poking with sticks, sprinkling a few corn seeds
into the soil.

Africa is the “oldest” continent on earth and is considered the cradle of
humanity. When I first visited Tanzania, farming was still on a subsistence
level, as is still true in many areas of rural Việt Nam. The situation was the

same in the other African countries that I visited later, including Guinea,
Mali, Uganda, Angola, and Mozambique. As in Việt Nam, European
colonialism had kept the peoples of Africa uneducated, divided, and
uncertain about their abilities and their own intrinsic worth in comparison
with their white rulers.

Thankfully, that is changing.

The peoples of Africa are so beautiful—well-built, physically strong,
warm-hearted, good-natured, and genuine. We can hope that in the twenty-
first century this ancient continent, which was colonized for so long and
often with such devastating results, continues to develop according to
priorities and choices formulated by the countries’ citizens themselves.
We can all benefit as African nations increasingly take their rightful place
on the world stage. The Afro-Asian People’s Solidarity Organization has
contributed to that much-needed change.

This particular Afro-Asian Congress was organized in a lovely setting
at the foot of famous Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa’s highest and most
beautiful peak with a year-round cap of snow. I led the delegation from
South Việt Nam. Our delegation’s main issue was joining the Secretariat
and achieving permanent representation so we could speak and generate
timely support for our struggle.

Other countries, such as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea,
also wished to join the Secretariat. We had support from the Soviet Union
and some other nations as well as ardent support from Ben Barka,[25] an
influential leader from the Moroccan movement. As a result, the NLF
became a member of the Secretariat. This was a great victory and a first in
people-to-people diplomacy for the NLF. Thereafter, we always had a

representative from the NLF at the AAPSO Secretariat in Cairo, Egypt.
Indeed, from that time onward, we could at last launch campaigns to
secure support from Afro-Asian and Latin American countries.

I cannot refrain from saying at least a few words about Ben Barka. He
was a true international combatant fighting with resilience for the rights of
working people, for national independence, and for the equality of nations.
The imperialist forces stalked him; he was found missing in 1965. AAPSO
has since dedicated a Ben Barka Medal to those who have made significant
contributions to the movement for Afro-Asian solidarity. In 1974, I was
privileged to receive this priceless honor.

*

**

I attended many international conferences on issues about women, legal
affairs, economics, and other topics. Some years, I would be abroad for
seven or eight months. In order to save on travel expenses, we would
sometimes stay in the Soviet Union or China between conferences. The
first few years, I kept a diary of our trips, but later on, extensive travel
made it impossible to keep track! Although we kept no records, I still have
my memories of the comrades who were side by side with me during those
challenging years of turmoil and complexity.

I remember Bình Thanh,[26] cherished as a younger sister of whom I
was very fond. Even now, my heart feels torn when mentioning Bình
Thanh. I knew her from the Sài Gòn student movement in the 1950s. An
excellent student and a great activist, she had beauty, a strong character,
and a special quality of mind and manners. She was someone whom

everyone loved. Bình Thanh was my secretary, since she excelled in both
English and French. In fact, she was more like an intimate companion
sharing both sad and happy moments as well as the trials and tribulations
of our everyday life.

For a while after 1975, Bình Thanh was Việt Nam’s ambassador to
Germany. Then she was assigned to Việt Nam’s delegation at the United
Nations. Although she was a very talented woman, Bình Thanh’s private
life was not very happy. Her life ended in a tragic motorbike accident
while on her way to attend the funeral of Mme. Nguyễn Thị Chơn,[27] a
mutual friend and a colleague from our years together in Paris.

Ngọc Dung,[28] whose real name was Xuân, was my age and had been a
top student of Pétrus Ký School. She joined the Việt Nam Women’s Union
in the South as a journalist. Dung was also a member of our negotiating
delegation in Paris, so our international activities meant that our paths
crossed frequently. Ngọc Dung was spirited and bright, always coming up
with new initiatives; she was full of energy and an enthusiastic worker.
Since Dung and I fully understood each other, we worked well together,
with every task efficiently coordinated. Later on, she was Việt Nam’s
ambassador to the United Nations.

As for my fellow comrades, I feel special appreciation for Võ Đông
Giang, Hoàng Bích Sơn, Dương Đình Thảo,[29] Lê Phương,[30] and Lý
Văn Sáu.[31] All have left me with permanent memories. I have always
had many friends, with whom I could share thoughts and ideas as well as
difficulties and challenges. That closeness gave me greater self-confidence
and strength.

*

**

From 1963 to 1968, I participated in many international women’s
conferences, including meetings held in Moscow (Russia), Sofia
(Bulgaria), and Nimes (France). Women throughout the world strongly
supported Việt Nam’s struggle, but they did not always sympathize with all
our claims. At the International Women’s Executive Committee meeting in
Salzburg (Austria), Jeannette Vermeersch,[32] who had shown constant
support, nevertheless objected, saying, “Why do you emphasize the United
States as an imperialist aggressor? If you stopped calling the Americans
‘aggressors,’ then we could immediately support your statement!”

I smiled and replied, “Sister Jeannette, I think that we have condemned
them so little that our words have been to no avail. Perhaps that is the
reason we have failed to capture the Americans’ attention.”

We laughed and hugged. Jeannette said: “All right then. We love the
people of Việt Nam, so we will ‘try it your way.’”

The conference passed a resolution strongly condemning the United
States. Our friends loved us not only because they affirmed our just cause
but also because they admired the determination and sacrifice coming
from a small nation standing up against a colossal empire. We were “ready
to sacrifice all and determined not to be enslaved.” Our narrative was like
the Biblical story of David against Goliath. The more we fought, the more
we were triumphant. We had to work so our friends from all continents
would understand that the United States was conducting a war of
aggression in the south of Việt Nam. We also had to state clearly that the

NLF was the only true representative of the southern people in the struggle
against US aggressors.

This was not easy in the first few years. Our goal was to quash the Sài
Gòn administration’s claims as “nationalist” and “patriotic.” We
persevered even when some foreign sympathizers remained uncomfortable
with what they considered as our inflexible stance. We would explain our
point of view until we convinced them. Later on, after the 1968 Tết
Offensive, when lawyer Trịnh Đình Thảo[33] set up the Alliance of
National, Democratic, and Peace Forces, we no longer claimed that the
NLF was the only true representative of the south of Việt Nam. However,
then we encountered disagreement from the same friends. Now, they
argued that even if other patriotic forces joined us, we should still portray
the Front as the only worthy and true representative. To this, we repeated
our point that the NLF’s fundamental intent was to rally all forces in
common struggle to build a broad-based movement so that our friends
would agree with us out of comradeship and trust.

Our role was difficult for governments. Even though the Soviet Union
supported our struggle, the Soviets were cautious and restrained when
using terms such as “American imperialism” or “aggression.” We would
have long, elaborate discussions in order to produce joint statements with
the governments of the countries we visited. Only through perseverance
could we reach agreement on terminology.

In most cases, our international colleagues would avoid mentioning the
United States by name, and they would use “interference” instead of
“invasion.” This demonstrated how powerful the United States was

internationally and how resilient and determined we were in the face of
such a formidable challenge.

One of our key objectives was to gather the support of antiwar and
peace groups in the United States. The first time I met representatives of
the American antiwar movement was at a two-day conference held in
Bratislava (now in the Republic of Slovakia) in 1967, with about forty
attendees. I was not impressed with these Americans at first sight. They
were not dressed tidily, and their way of speaking seemed overly casual.

Yet when I described the situation in Việt Nam, the American
participants listened attentively and asked many questions. I spoke
especially about the war in the South, including the American military’s
crimes, and I expressed our people’s aspirations for peace and
independence. I also emphasized that we had no ill intentions regarding
US interests. The ambiance became increasingly relaxed as the conference
progressed and as the participants came to feel closer to one another. By
the end, we were shaking hands and holding hands and promising to alert
the public, especially in the United States, so that the world would grasp
the reality of what was happening in Việt Nam. We asserted that, together,
we would strengthen our solidarity to end the war, a war the American
public had never wanted.

I also joined two separate meetings with American women, one in
Jakarta (1965) and one in Paris (1967). These meetings were distinctive
because the women were inherently more open and tolerant than their
male colleagues. Many American friends could not hold back their tears
when they heard descriptions of the suffering of Vietnamese women and
children. These meetings were held mainly at the initiative of Women

Strike for Peace. After 1975, I met again old friends, such as Cora
Weiss[34] and Mary Clark[35] from the United States. They had been
active members of this movement, women whom I regard as friends. I can
never forget them, because they spent a precious part of their lives
fighting bravely for Việt Nam.

*

**

Between 1963 and 1965, disagreements appeared within the
international revolutionary movement. These negatively affected the
struggle in many countries, including Việt Nam. At first, China launched a
campaign criticizing Yugoslavia’s revisionism, and then China launched a
media campaign so that the sharp, bitter Chinese arguments could easily
persuade listeners. Then China switched to attacking the Soviet Union
directly and condemning Nikita Khrushchev, the Soviet Union’s leader, as
a pro-American revisionist. Our policy through both the Resistance War
Against France and the Resistance War Against the United States had been
to secure support from the Socialist bloc and especially from the “two big
brothers” (the Soviet Union and China). We needed to build a strong
foundation under our own struggle. We tried to maintain our stance, but
this was not always easy.

In July 1963, a loud dispute erupted at the International Women’s
Congress in Moscow between the Chinese delegation and the Organizing
Committee. A Chinese representative grabbed the microphone to assert the
Chinese stance. Total confusion ensued, ending the conference. I was head
of the Vietnamese delegation. Although we were close to the Chinese
delegation, we did not approve of the delegation’s conflict with the

organizers. From that incident onward, the Chinese delegations were
absent from all conferences of international democratic organizations.[36]

Around the middle of 1964, Chairman Khrushchev held a large
welcoming reception at the Kremlin Meeting Hall during the Peace
Congress in Moscow. This event won the sympathy of representatives
from many countries. As head of the NLF delegation, I was wondering
what to say when I met Chairman Khrushchev, whose reputation had been
challenged. Finally, my turn came. I approached, shook hands with
Chairman Khrushchev, and introduced the NLF as representative for the
people of the South who were struggling against the United States. I
thanked the people of the Soviet Union for supporting our just struggle. I
also expressed our hope that, along with many other countries, the Soviet
Union would support Việt Nam even more. I was not sure if the interpreter
repeated everything I said, but I did notice that Chairman Khrushchev
smiled and nodded. I sighed with relief, knowing that I could not have
stated our position more correctly!

The 1968 Tết General Offensive erupted when I was in Hà Nội to
prepare for a trip to France. The whole country watched as the People’s
Liberation Army attacked and besieged American buildings and bases.
From this point forward, people had more faith in the strength of our
guerrilla forces. In April 1968, I received an invitation to a women’s
conference in Nimes (France). Two important events occurred as I was
traveling to Paris. First, the French student movement protested the
government’s education policy, a protest that overlapped with many social
groups’ dissatisfaction with the de Gaulle government. Several of the large
demonstrations in France interrupted public life.

At the same time, Việt Nam opened communication between the DRVN
government represented by Minister Xuân Thủy[37] and the United States
government represented by Ambassador Averell Harriman[38] to explore
the prospect of political negotiations. As the Tết 1968 General Offensive
spread across the southern battlefield, the United States began to recognize
the impossibility of winning a war against a people so determined to fight
for independence, freedom, and their country’s re-unification. The need to
de-escalate the war became apparent to American leaders, forcing them to
consider a political solution to extract the United States from an
increasingly hopeless war. However, the United States also wanted to
negotiate from strength. We saw this as a timely opportunity to fight on
two fronts with a combined strategy—attack on the battlefield and
negotiate at the conference table.

When I met Xuân Thủy in Paris during that trip for the women’s
conference, I believed the diplomatic struggle would gain in importance.
However, I certainly did not expect to return to the magnificent capital of
France six months later with an assignment involving enormous
responsibility. That assignment would mark a turning point in my work
and life.

[1] Mười Thập: See Chapter 4, “Forged in the Resistance,” footnote 40, p. 96.

[2] “Tenth Older Sister”: Nguyễn Thị Thập had come from the Southern Region, where

people are traditionally named according to birth order, beginning with “Second,” perhaps to
prevent evil spirits from snatching a first-born child. Thus, Nguyễn Thị Thập, as the ninth child,
had the commonly used name “Mười (Tenth) Thập.” By shortening the name to “Chị Mười”

(literally, Tenth Older Sister), the staff expressed both great respect and familial intimacy. Mme.
Nguyễn Thị Bình is the eldest child among her siblings. In the final chapter, “Retired and Busy,”
she appears as “Second Older Sister.”

[3] Hoàng Thị Ái: The Women’s Union’s first national congress, which was in Việt Bắc

Northern Liberated Zone between April 14 and 19, 1950, accepted the name Women’s Union of
Việt Nam, beginning with the organization’s 1st term (1950-1956). At that time, the Women’s
Union had five million members out of an estimated population of ten million women. The
congress selected Lê Thị Xuyến as president and Hoàng Thị Ái as one of three vice presidents.
Hoàng Thị Ái also served as vice president for the IInd term (1956-1961) and the IIIrd term
(1961-1974). Hoàng Thị Ái was famous for her ability to pull people together even though, like
many if not most women during Confucian times, she could write only her name. At age sixty,
when retired, Hoàng Thị Ái taught herself to read. She lived to well past a hundred.

[4] Hà Thị Quế (1921-2012, given name: Lương Thị Hồng) came from an educated,

revolutionary family in Ninh Bình Province in the Northern Region. She joined the Party in 1941,
received weapons training, and was responsible for two military units in Bắc Giang Province
before the August 1945 Revolution. During the French War, she was on the Women’s Union
Executive Committee. Hà Thị Quế was vice president of the Women’s Union for the IInd (1956-
1961) and IIIrd (1961-1974) terms and then president for the IVth term (1974-1982). She was a
member of the National Assembly, Sessions II (1960-1964), III (1964-1971), IV (1971-1975), V
(1975-1976), and VI (1976-1981).

[5] Dr. Phạm Ngọc Thạch: See Chapter 4, “Forged in the Resistance,” footnote 28, p. 85.

[6] Uncle Hồ: President Hồ Chí Minh. See Chapter 1, “My Homeland,” footnote 9, p. 37.

[7] The Nguyễn Ái Quốc Academy, now called the Hồ Chí Minh National Political Institute,

remains the place where senior-level government and Party officials go for extensive political
training (sometimes for as long as a year) before moving to a higher post. During his life, Hồ Chí
Minh used nearly two hundred pseudonyms and aliases. His best known alias is Nguyễn Ái Quốc
(Nguyễn the Patriot).

[8] Elections: The Geneva Agreement of 1954 stipulated that national elections would be

held in July 1956 to re-unite the country.

[9] For the “[Ten-Point] Program of the National Liberation Front of South Viet-Nam,”

which was promulgated when the NLF was established on December 20, 1960, see

http://openrevolt.info/2011/12/20/program-of-the-nlf/.

[10] “Go to B”: In the commonly used slang of that time, “A” referred to the North; “B,” to

the South; and “C,” to Laos.

[11] Lê Đoan, originally from Bến Tre Province in the Mekong Delta of the Southern

Region, regrouped to the North in 1954, taking her two young children with her. Lê Đoan’s
husband remained behind in the South. She served as deputy editor of the Women’s Newspaper
for the Central-Level Women’s Union in Hà Nội before shifting her children to the care of family
members and returning to the South, where she worked for Women’s Liberation News. Lê Đoan
was killed by an American bomb in Đồng Tháp Province.

[12] Nguyễn Thị Kim Phương was working as a journalist and visiting a liberated area of

Mỹ Tho (now Tiền Giang) Province in the Mekong Delta when Sài Gòn soldiers rounded her up
along with villagers. The soldiers killed her immediately because they confused her with a
famous local woman organizer, whom she closely resembled.

[13] General Uprising, January 1960: The 1954 Geneva Agreement temporarily divided

Việt Nam into “North Việt Nam” and “South Việt Nam,” with elections scheduled for mid-1956
to re-unite the country. In late 1954, in accordance with the Geneva Agreement, the men from
the Việt Minh Resistance Army fighting against the French regrouped to the North, leaving their
wives behind. These troops assumed they would return to their homes in the South after the
elections in 1956. The US-backed government of Ngô Đình Diệm in the South began to oppress
the families of those who had regrouped to the North. In 1956, Ngô Đình Diệm refused to allow
the elections.

In July1959, the Politburo in North Việt Nam promulgated its Decision 15, shifting from
political action only, to both political and armed struggle and “revolutionary violence.” At that
time, Mme. Nguyễn Thị Định, a native of Bến Tre Province in the Mekong Delta of the Southern
Region, was vice chair of the Province Party Committee. Of course, she was working undercover
in areas the US-backed Army of the Republic of Việt Nam (ARVN) occupied. Women under the
direction of Mme. Định spread rumors in the “market mouth” that the Việt Minh soldiers had
returned from the North and were preparing to attack. This was purely rumor. The women’s
husbands were still in the North. The women had no weapons.

At dusk on January 17, 1960, the women tied up their hair so that they looked like men and
dressed in “black pajamas,” the traditional dress for men in the Mekong Delta. Carrying “rifles”
they had fashioned from wood, the women circled the ARVN bases in Bến Tre’s Mỏ Cày District.
Simultaneously, they set off firecrackers. The combination of the rumors that had surged through

the “market mouth,” the explosions, and the besieging "armed" revolutionary troops running this
way and that through the firecracker smoke and dimming light created terror inside the ARVN
bases. The ARVN fled, abandoning their weapons. The women gathered up the war booty and
armed themselves.

For the most part, these women did not know how to use weapons. However, not all the
Resistance troops had regrouped to the North. A few men with new identities had remained
behind and undercover. They taught the women and a new generation of young men how to use
the newly secured US ammunition and guns.

Nguyễn Thị Định reached the rank of general in the Liberation Army. From 1982 to 1992,
she was president of the nationwide Women’s Union based in Hà Nội. Mme. Định (sitting in a
hammock) appears in a wartime photograph with Mme. Bình at the back of this book. “Đồng
Khởi” (General Uprising) is now the name of the famous wartime Sài Gòn bar street known as
Catinat during the French War and as Tự Do during the American War. This street runs from the
Sài Gòn River to the cathedral; today, it is the address for some of Hồ Chí Minh City’s most
luxurious hotels and some of its most expensive shops.

[14] Lê Toàn Thư (1921-, given name: Nguyễn Tất Văn) came from Ninh Bình Province in

the Northern Region. He studied in Hà Nội and joined the Party in 1939 during the French
repression following the more open Popular Front. The French arrested him in 1942 and, in 1943,
sent him to Côn Đảo Prison Island south of Sài Gòn. He was freed during the August 1945
Revolution. In 1948, he was assigned to organize in the Southern Region, where he served as
assistant to Lê Đức Thọ and, after 1954, as assistant to Lê Duẩn. He went out to the North in
1960 and appears in the photograph with Hồ Chí Minh in the back of this book, second row,
third from the left. Lê Toàn Thư was a member of the Standing Committee on Cochin China and
head of the Central Committee for Re-Unification. He served as representative of the NLF-PRG in
Cuba. He retired in 1975.

[15] Hoàng Bích Sơn (1924-2000) came from Quảng Nam Province in the Central Region,

south of what later became the DMZ, which divided the country. He was an organizer and Party
secretary in Bình Thuận Province in the Southern Region before 1945. He appears in the
photograph with Hồ Chí Minh in the back of this book, second row, second from the right.
Hoàng Bích Sơn was PRG deputy foreign minister from 1969 until 1976, served on the NLF-PRG
delegation in Paris, and in 1976 became deputy foreign minister for re-united Việt Nam. He was
a member of the Party Central Committee, Session VI (1986-1991), and in charge of foreign
affairs for the Party during that same period. He was also a member of the National Assembly,
Sessions VIII (1987-1992) and IX (1992-1997) and responsible for foreign affairs for the
National Assembly for Session IX.

[16] Võ Đông Giang (1923-1998, given name: Phan Bá) came from a family of scholars in

Phú Yên Province in Việt Nam’s Southern Region. He was among those seizing political power
in Gia Lai Province (Central Highlands) during the August 1945 Revolution and, afterwards, was
interim Party secretary for that province. In 1954, he moved over to foreign affairs. He appears in
the photograph with Hồ Chí Minh in the back of this book, second row, first on the left. Võ Đông
Giang served on the NLF-PRG delegation in Paris and, as a colonel, was deputy head of the PRG
military team at Camp David in Sài Gòn in 1973. After Việt Nam was re-united, Võ Đông Giang
served as deputy foreign minister (1977-1979) and minister of foreign economic affairs (1987).

[17] People-to-people diplomacy: Traditionally, dating from the great Vietnamese

strategist-humanist Nguyễn Trãi (1380-1442), Vietnamese foreign relations has relied on “three
arrows”—political, military, and diplomatic. People-to-people diplomacy works during peacetime
to maintain and foster peace by developing relationships with individuals and citizens’
organization of other countries. During the American War, people-to-people diplomacy used the
same process in conjunction with the Party’s guidance, the People’s Army, and “people’s war” in
the effort to affect the policies of other countries and ultimately to affect US policy. At Paris, the
goal of people-to-people diplomacy was to organize so that peoples and countries across the
world would support the NLF-PRG - DRVN cause.

[18] Nguyễn Văn Hiếu (1922-1991) was born in Cà Mau in the far south of the Southern

Region and took part in the August 1945 Revolution in Cà Mau. He joined the Communist Party
in 1951 yet retained his membership in the Democratic Party. He joined the National Liberation
Front in 1960. Nguyễn Văn Hiếu is standing next to President Hồ in the group photograph at the
back of this book. He was general secretary of the NLF’s Executive Committee and led the PRG
delegation to the meetings with the delegation from the Republic of Việt Nam (“South Việt
Nam”) after the signing of the Paris Agreement. After the formal re-unification of Việt Nam in
July 1976, Nguyễn Văn Hiếu served as minister of culture. In 1976, the Ministry of Culture and
the Ministry of Education were particularly important in addressing the challenges re-uniting the
country after twenty years of division and war. Nguyễn Văn Hiếu was minister of culture until his
retirement in 1986.

[19] Thanh Hải (1930-1980) came from an educated family in Thừa-Thiên Huế Province in

Việt Nam’s Central Region, south of the DMZ, which later divided Việt Nam. He joined the
Revolution when he was seventeen. Thanh Hải was an underground organizer in Huế during the
American War, with tasks including responsibility for Liberation Flag (Cờ Giải Phóng)
newspaper. He published five volumes of poetry. In 2001, he received posthumously the State
Prize for Literature and the Arts.

[20] Sukarno (Kusno Sosrodihardjo, 1901-1970) came from an educated family and earned

a degree in engineering with a focus on architecture. He was a gifted linguist, knew several of the
many Indonesian languages as well as Arabic, Dutch, English, German, and Japanese. An avid
reader, he studied many facets of nationalism, eventually developing his own vision. Sukarno
became the leader of Indonesia’s independence movement and served as the country’s first
president from 1945 until 1967, when he was placed under house arrest following a military
coup.

[21] Dipa Nusantara Aidit (1923-1965) received his education in the Dutch colonial

system. He became a revolutionary leader of the Indonesian Communist Party, which grew into
the third largest communist party in the world, following the Soviet Communist Party and the
Chinese Communist Party.

[22] Suharto (1921-2008) came from a family of farmers with a sufficiently high economic

level that he was able to study at local schools, but he had little contact with Dutch colonialism
and foreign languages until his induction into the Dutch army in 1940. He rose to power after the
military coup that toppled President Sukarno and served as the second president of Indonesia,
from 1968 until his resignation in 1998.

[23] Võ Chí Công (1912-2011) came from Quảng Nam Province in Việt Nam’s Central

Region south of the DMZ, which later divided Việt Nam. He was active in communist
organizations in the early 1930s, joined the Party in 1935, and was a leader of the movement in
the center of Việt Nam and south of the DMZ during the Resistance War Against the United
States. He was elected to the Politburo in 1976 and served as deputy premier from 1976 to 1982.
He served as president of Việt Nam from 1987 until his retirement in 1992.

[24] The Bandung Conference, Indonesia (April 18-24, 1955) was organized by Burma

(Myanmar), Ceylon (Sri Lanka), Indonesia, and Pakistan and coordinated by the Indonesian
Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It brought together high-level representatives from twenty-five
African and Asian countries in search of a common platform for future cooperation. Participants
issued joint communiqués against colonialism and asserted a neutral stance between the
international political blocs led by the former Soviet Union and by the United States with its
allies. The conference was a precursor of the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM).

[25] Mehdi Ben Barka (1920-1965) came from an educated family and earned a degree in

mathematics. He founded the Moroccan left-wing National Union of Popular Forces in 1959. A
Moroccan revolutionary and an international revolutionary, he was abducted in Paris in 1965 and
never seen again.

[26] Bình Thanh: See Chapter 4, “Forged during the Resistance Against France,” footnote

22, p. 82.

[27] Nguyễn Thị Chơn (?-2004, given name: Tôn Thị Hưởng) came from Đồng Tháp Mười

Province in Việt Nam’s Southern Region. She was the wife of journalist-researcher-writer Trần
Bạch Đằng. Nguyễn Thị Chơn was deputy secretary of the Women’s Mobilization City Unit in
1965, together with Mme. Lê Thị Riêng. In 1967, she was arrested with Lê Thị Riêng. Nguyễn
Thị Chơn’s years at the Paris Conference are described in the subsequent chapter. In later years
she was chief of the Court of Appeals in Hồ Chí Minh City and deputy minister of justice.

[28] Nguyễn Thị Ngọc Dung (1927-2013) was a young woman when her older sister took

temporary custody of Ngọc Dung’s two-year-old daughter so that Ngọc Dung could attend a
training course in the Resistance Zone in Mỹ Tho (now Tiền Giang) Province. One assignment
led to another, including the Paris Conference, and then assignment (in the role of an army
major) to the military commission at Camp David in Sài Gòn in 1973. Ngọc Dung and her
daughter first met again in May 1975. By then, Ngọc Dung’s daughter was the mother of a two-
year-old. Ngọc Dung was Việt Nam’s representative to the United Nations and, in that role,
became the first Vietnamese to serve on a United Nations commission—the Commission to End
Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW). She continued her activism after retirement and, with
others, founded one of the very first Vietnamese NGOs, which concentrated on the needs of
children, particularly girls.

[29] Dương Đình Thảo (1924-) joined the Resistance War Against France and was a

member of the Hồ Chí Minh City Party Steering Committee. He appears in the photograph with
Hồ Chí Minh in the back of this book, top row, second from the right. Dương Đình Thảo served
as the first press spokesperson for the Provisional Revolutionary Government of the Republic of
South Việt Nam at the Paris Peace Conference on Việt Nam.

[30] Lê Phương (1926-2010), who came from Nha Trang in Việt Nam’s Southern Region,

was the NLF representative in Budapest, Prague, and Cairo and then director of the NLF press
bureau in Stockholm. Subsequently, he was general secretary of UNESCO in Việt Nam and
represented Việt Nam at UNESCO in Paris. Later, he edited the French-language Vietnamese
weekly, Le Courier. After he retired, Lê Phương was an enthusiastic writing partner and co-
translator with American and European colleagues.

[31] Lý Văn Sáu (1924-2012, given name: Nguyễn Bá Đàn) came from a family of patriotic

scholars in Nghệ An Province in the Central Region, north of the DMZ, which later divided Việt
Nam. He studied at Quốc Học (National School) in Huế. He was a Việt Minh organizer for the

August 1945 Revolution in Phú Yên Province and fought in the Nha Trang Battle (1945). As a
journalist, in 1949, he headed Liberation Radio in Region V. He regrouped to the North in 1954.
From 1957 to 1960, he studied at the Party Central-Level School in Moscow and then returned
home to continue his work in Party-level journalism. After returning from Paris, from 1977 to
1990, he was simultaneously deputy head of Việt Nam Television, deputy editor for Việt Nam
Radio, and deputy general editor for Việt Nam News Service.

[32] Jeannette Vermeersch (1910-2001), a French politician, was an active communist, a

co-founder of the Union of French Women, and a member of the French Communist Party’s
Politburo. Her husband was Maurice Thorez, at one time the general secretary of the French
Communist Party.

[33] Trịnh Đình Thảo: See Chapter 4, “Forged During the Resistance War Against France,

footnote 53, p. 108.

[34] Cora Weiss (1934-) was a co-founder of Women Strike for Peace, which initially

worked to end nuclear testing and then was among the first organizations active in opposing US
policy in Việt Nam. She has worked for many years in a variety of peace organizations, for
which she has received many awards.

[35] Mary Clark, who was active with Women Strike for Peace, went to the Jakarta

Conference in 1965 and visited Hà Nội in 1967.

[36] “International democratic organizations” is a phrase commonly used to describe

international networks of mass (people’s) organizations from socialist/communist countries.

[37] Xuân Thủy (1912-1985, given name: Nguyễn Trọng Nhâm) came from what is now an

outlying district of Hà Nội and began his revolutionary activism in 1932, joined the Party in
1941, and was arrested several times between 1938 and 1944. A poet, linguist, translator, and
diplomat, he was editor of Cứu Quốc (National Salvation) newspaper from 1944 until 1955,
DRVN foreign minister from 1963 until 1975, and then head of the Party External Relations
Department before leading the delegation from the Democratic Republic of Việt Nam (DRVN,
“North Việt Nam”) at the Paris Conference from the beginning (1968) to the end (1973).

[38] William Averell Harriman (1891-1986), a politician and diplomat, was born in New

York City to a wealthy family with substantial assets in railroads. He graduated from Yale
University and subsequently received the largest inheritance on record in the United States at that
time. Harriman set up a bank, then a firm on Wall Street, and then bought several companies. As

a diplomat, Harriman served US presidents Roosevelt, Truman, Kennedy, and Johnson, all of
whom were Democrats.

6.

The Longest Peace Negotiation in History

In the middle of July 1968, the Committee for Re-Unification invited
Comrades Dương Đình Thảo,[1] Lý Văn Sáu,[2] Ngọc Dung,[3] several
others, and myself to a briefing on the Party’s directive for its new strategy
—“attack on the battlefield and negotiate at the conference table.” We
understood that it was not yet the right time to resolve the issues between
the United States and the National Liberation Front; instead, we would
undertake a new form of struggle.

On the battlefield, we had to fight even more vigorously so the US - Sài
Gòn administration would realize that its cruelty could not overcome us
and that the war had reached a decisive point. At the same time, the
situation created the chance for us to open a widespread diplomatic front.
We could help the world understand even more clearly the schemes and
cruelty of the United States in Việt Nam. We needed to highlight the US
intention to force its domination over our small, poor nation, which
wanted only peace and freedom and which couldn’t possibly hamper
American interests.

This new diplomatic front could enhance our influence on international
and US public opinion, isolate the forces of aggression, and provide

effective support for the battlefield. Of course, we also believed that
eventually the war would end and the two parties would sign a peace
agreement at the negotiating table.

After almost six years of diplomatic activities for the National
Liberation Front (NLF, “the Front,” or the “Việt Cộng”) of South Việt
Nam, I had accumulated some knowledge and experience in diplomatic
and political struggle. However, I never guessed I would have the good
fortune to receive this challenging, complex, and important assignment—
to help represent my country at the historic negotiations in Paris with the
goal of ending the war and restoring peace. Those negotiations, which may
have been the longest in world history, began in November 1968 and ended
on January 27, 1973, with diplomatic follow-up in Paris lasting until that
June. When I left Hà Nội at the end of October 1968, I never expected the
negotiations to last so long.

Before leaving, I phoned Khang at the Military Engineering School in
Bắc Giang Province and arranged to see him. I felt perplexed because I did
not know how to tell my husband the news, and I did not know what to say
to my children, who were too young to understand that I might be away for
an indefinite time. Khang understood that I needed to undertake an
important task. He didn’t ask for specifics but only encouraged me. “You
have a mission you must fulfill,” he said. “Leave for your assignment with
peace of mind. The children have me and your father to care for them.” I
loved Khang even more dearly at that moment and was endlessly grateful
to him.

I left home with so many feelings, yet I constantly reminded myself
that I must work to the limit of my strength to complete my responsibility.

Our leaders had placed their confidence in me; I had to live up to that
confidence. I took with me the principles of the National Liberation Front
of South Việt Nam, several documents with guidance for the struggle, and
President Hồ’s “Valuable Advice,”[4] which comrades at the Re-
Unification Committee had reproduced.

During the struggle, it was crucial always to hold to this central,
underlying norm: “Retain immutable principles during myriad
changes.”[5] I think our two Vietnamese delegations (from the Democratic
Republic of Việt Nam and the National Liberation Front of South Việt
Nam) carried out these directives precisely.

*

**

Comrades Dương Đình Thảo, Bình Thanh,[6] Phan Bá,[7] Nguyễn Văn
Khai, and I were the members of the first NLF delegation to depart for the
preparatory meetings. We flew by way of Beijing and Moscow. We told
everyone the reason for our trip was a “mission to Cuba.” At around 2:00
p.m. on November 2, 1968, we landed at Le Bourget Airport north of Paris
just as the weather in France was beginning to turn chilly. From the
airplane, we could see crowds of people waiting to greet us. Such
excitement, emotion, and joy!

We encouraged each other to look dignified and smile, just as Comrade
Xuân Thủy[8] had gently reminded us. That day, I was wearing a dark pink
Vietnamese áo dài, our traditional dress, over which I wore a grey coat and
a flower-adorned black scarf. As soon as we entered the terminal, many
journalists and photographers surrounded us, even though hefty

Vietnamese and French security guards escorted us. With all the jostling, I
barely escaped falling. Bình Thanh, my secretary and official interpreter,
[9] and I stayed close together the entire time.

Our mission was to state clearly the purpose and significance of the
NLF delegation at the Paris Conference. I tried to speak loudly but with
dignity; Bình Thanh interpreted in such a clear and coherent style that
many praised her, saying she spoke French extremely well, like a native
French speaker. Many people crowded in to see, hear, and photograph the
delegation. The chaos made it seem as if the furniture were splintering and
the windows were cracking!

We were taken to Villa Thevenet, the site that our comrades in the
delegation from the Democratic Republic of Việt Nam (DRVN or “North
Việt Nam”) had arranged for us. We were startled to see the journalists and
photographers following us. Some were climbing over the villa’s walls,
while others poked their cameras through slits in the gate to snap a few
shots of the “Việt Cộng.” We had a good laugh and reassured each other,
saying, “We came here to disseminate information about our Front and
affect public opinion. Why should we flinch from these journalists? On the
contrary, we should welcome them!”

Of course, first we needed a meaningful plan. Two days later, we held a
large press conference with over four hundred reporters from the
international press. This was my first exposure to so many journalists. I
spoke, presenting the Front’s legitimate position and our good will in
seeking a peaceful solution. The journalists competed to ask their
questions. I hid my worry and fear that I would say something to expose a
weakness the journalists could exploit. Outwardly, I remained calm and

poised. The articles the journalists wrote after that press conference were
all sympathetic. No one “picked holes.” After all, a gentle, petite woman
from a land where war raged had stood before them, speaking with reason
and feeling. Indeed, our first steps had created sympathy among the press.

During the following days, many journalists and television companies
requested separate interviews; some days, we even had several press
sessions. The work was nerve-racking, particularly with those TV lights
shining in my face. The brothers and sisters in the delegation encouraged
me, saying, “So! They’re paying lots of attention to the NLF delegation!
That’s exactly what we wanted!”

*

**

The four-party preparatory meetings began on November 6, 1968, but
the United States pointed out that the representatives from the Sài Gòn
administration had not yet arrived. Another reason to delay was
procedural, including the question of the shape of the negotiating table.
World diplomatic history had never seen negotiations begin with an
extended struggle over the negotiating table’s shape.

Although many people joke about that stage, there were important
reasons for this extended discussion because the shape and seating
arrangements at the main table symbolized the political and legal
characteristics of the four sides.

From May until October 1968, the discussions between Comrade Xuân
Thủy (head of the DRVN delegation) and US Ambassador Averell

Harriman had been very heated about the role of the National Liberation
Front. On our side, we made it clear that the Front was the representative
of the southern people who opposed the United States. Thus, the NLF must
be one of the negotiating parties. Ho wever, the United States held that the
Front was composed of “people from the North,” meaning “communists,”
who wanted to overthrow the “nationalists,” whom the United States
supported in the South. We asserted in response that the United States had
chosen and established the Sài Gòn administration, which was therefore
clearly composed of American hirelings.

Thus, the struggle over whether the table would present “four sides or
two sides” had important political significance. We requested a square
table for its four equal sides or a round table divided into four equal
sectors. The United States insisted on a rectangular table for two sides or a
round table divided into two. Here is a little known detail: Comrade Xuân
Thủy’s delegation received many table designs from world-famous
furniture companies. Ambassador Harriman’s delegation probably
received just as many brochures. In the end, Comrade Xuân Thủy and
Ambassador Harriman reached unity, deciding on a large round table eight
meters in diameter and covered with a green cloth. Their plan divided the
table into halves. The four sides had dividing lines, which were clearly
defined by the reserved staff space behind each delegation. In this way,
everyone could interpret the table’s design as two-sided or four-sided
depending on his or her point of view.

The delegations from the United States and the Sài Gòn administration
sat close together as if they were one. However, on our side, the Front and
the DRVN sat as two separate delegations. The seating arrangement was
not advantageous for the Americans and the Sài Gòn administration, since

people could clearly see that the Sài Gòn authorities were little more than
lackeys of the Americans. Given that configuration, how could the Sài Gòn
administration claim to represent the people of the South?

The preparatory meeting began on November 27, 1968. It was a simple
meeting primarily to decide technical issues, such as the number of
official participants and the order of presentations. The formal, four-sided
conference did not begin until January 25 of the following year. Comrade
Trần Bửu Kiếm[10] served as head of the NLF delegation, while Comrade
Trần Hoài Nam and I served as deputy heads. Our having two delegations
—the DRVN and the NLF—is a special case, unique in the history of
international diplomatic relations.

I believe I should speak clearly about this point:

We presented our two delegations as representatives of one struggle
under the unified leadership of the Vietnamese Workers’ Party (now the
Vietnamese Communist Party). In terms of foreign political presentation,
we had established a unified position: “Although two, we are one;
although one, we are two.” The two delegations with two different
populations—the NLF in the South and the DRVN in the North—
reinforced each other’s strength. As a result, our foreign-affairs front was
expansive and lively. We could contribute to victory in our shared struggle
to oppose American aggression, seize independence, and re-unite our
country.

We all know these historical truths: The Vietnamese Workers’ Party and
the DRVN government led our country’s War of Resistance Against
France. They seized the resounding Vietnamese victory at Điện Biên Phủ
and forced France to sign the Geneva Agreement in 1954. After that,

France and other nations accepted Việt Nam’s independence, sovereignty,
and territorial integrity. Nevertheless, the United States did not sign the
Joint Statement at Geneva. Given the international conditions during the
middle of 1954, we Vietnamese had to accept the temporary division of
our country into two sectors, with re-unification expected to follow a
nationwide general election two years later. However, the ink on the
Agreements had not yet dried when the United States intervened in Việt
Nam, replacing France.[11] The United States discarded the 1954 Geneva
Agreement, adopted a scheme to keep our country divided for a long time,
and intended to turn South Việt Nam into a new American colony.

On December 20, 1960, after four years of intense but unsuccessful
political struggle, the people of South Việt Nam established the National
Liberation Front of South Việt Nam, a movement uniting people from all
strata of society. Our goal was to lift aloft the banner of continued struggle
against the invaders and to demand independence and re-unification of our
country. The NLF announced its peaceful and neutral stand in a policy
appropriate to the situation, emphasizing the aspirations of the people of
the South and taking advantage of wide support from the peoples of the
world. The Front’s membership included a wide variety of people, among
them progressive revolutionary forces; activists from religious, peace, and
social groups; various political parties; and people who did not favor
socialism and who even “feared communists.” For nearly sixteen years,
the NLF’s blue and red flag with its five-pointed gold star flew on five
continents as a true symbol of the people’s struggle in the South.

At the four-party conference in Paris, the NLF, as representative of the
southern people directly involved in the war, presented political solutions
aimed at ending the war and restoring peace. We used flexibility,

responding to every change in the armed struggle with initiatives to
expand and clarify our good will, take advantage of public opinion, and
push our opponents into increasing embarrassment. These were our
“diplomatic offensives!”

The DRVN, as representative of the people of the North and as the
rearguard for our military struggle in the South, consistently heightened
the Front’s role and supported every solution we presented. Even now, in
my memory, I can still hear Comrade Xuân Thủy’s composed, calm, self-
possessed voice every time I announced a new initiative.

“I completely agree with Mme. Bình,” he would say.

That was our external presence. However, internally, we closely
coordinated the two delegations through one source of flexible, precise
guidance, which came from inside our country.[12]

*

**

The negotiations’ opening gambit about seating forced the United
States to recognize the existence of the National Liberation Front of South
Việt Nam. This marked an important early stage of the negotiations and a
major US defeat. The arguments at the conference table were lengthy, for
the NLF and DRVN delegations openly and publicly criticized and
denounced the United States. The American delegation would sidestep and
push the Sài Gòn delegation into long-winded responses.

After five months of meetings, on August 8, 1969, US President Nixon
announced his “Vietnamization” policy for the war. His idea—use

Vietnamese to fight Vietnamese—caused international journalists to
describe the policy as “changing the color of the corpses’ skin.”

*

**

The French Kléber International Conference Center was located on
Kléber Avenue about a hundred meters away from the Arc de Triomphe in
the center of Paris, the capital of France. Although the building was not
large, its architecture was majestic. A drawing room led to a large meeting
hall surrounded by rooms for small meetings. The meeting hall had two
main doors. The US and Sài Gòn delegations used one door, while the
DRVN and NLF delegations used the other.

The first session was an important event. The entire world turned its
attention on Kléber Center in hopes that the conference would find an
early solution to end the war, which had already caused a decade of
extensive suffering. Journalists arrived in large numbers. The people of
Paris, in particular our overseas Vietnamese compatriots, held aloft red
DRVN flags with gold stars and blue-and-red NLF flags with gold stars to
welcome our two delegations. Here and there were several three-striped
red and yellow flags representing the Sài Gòn administration.

It is hard to describe the feelings of our overseas Vietnamese kin when
they saw the flags of our Homeland and the National Liberation Front
flying in the middle of Paris. This was particularly true on the opening day
of the Paris Conference, an important event tied to our people’s heroic and
painful struggle. Uncountable lives had been lost under those two glorious
flags. One elderly overseas Vietnamese expressed his deep emotion. “For

so many years,” he said, “we haven’t been allowed to display our flag.
Some have been imprisoned just for holding aloft our flag. Now, we see
our people raising high our country’s flag, and we see the French police
escorting our representatives through Paris. We could not be happier!”

As for us, we had the honor to arrive in Paris as representatives for the
people of Việt Nam’s sectors. The people of the North and of the South
were engaged in a long war against those who would deny us
independence. We understood that even though our mission presented us
with many difficulties, our challenges could never compare with the
martyrdom of our warriors in the battlefields.

We knew that we stood on a diplomatic front line, which strove to
contribute to victory on the battlefield. Every Thursday for four years, our
two delegations arrived at the Kléber International Conference Center to
accomplish our primary responsibility: Through public discussion, we
would expose to the world the American scheme of invasion and thus
clarify our just cause for the independence, freedom, and re-unification of
our people.

It is worth noting that three delegations at the conference did not
include any women. The delegation from the Sài Gòn administration did
have Mme. Nguyễn Thị Vui at the beginning, but then we never saw her
again. Only the NLF-PRG delegation had “long-haired warriors” from the
South in Paris.

There is also the interesting question of technical equipment. The
DRVN and NLF delegations had only one small tape deck to record each
delegation’s speeches, whereas the US side had every type of modern

equipment and could consult directly with Washington. In truth, the
“disparity of forces” at Paris was rather unequal.

However, we were not lacking in argumentation, particularly when
everyone could see Comrade Xuân Thủy’s firm, composed, self-possessed
demeanor.

In June 1969, after formation of the Provisional Revolutionary
Government (PRG) of the Republic of South Việt Nam, Trần Bửu Kiếm,
the NLF’s head-of-delegation, returned to serve as minister for our Office
of Government. I received the heavy responsibility of replacing him. Xuân
Thủy and I served as delegation leaders until the conclusion of the
conference.

During the five years of the Paris Conference, the head of the US
delegation changed five times (Averell Harriman, Henry Cabot Lodge,
Philip Habib, David K. E. Bruce, and William J. Porter).[13] Many
commentators joked: “The Việt Cộng will definitely win because they are
so steady!” This disparity in management of personnel illustrated our iron
will.

At the conference table, I usually paid close attention to the two
opposing delegations, particularly to the delegation from the Sài Gòn
administration, which Phạm Đăng Lâm[14] headed for many years. As I
looked at them, I would ask myself, “What are they thinking about the
future of the country and themselves?” In truth, Mr. Lâm and many people
on the delegation of the Sài Gòn administration did not face us with an
attitude of enmity. Later, I learned that Phạm Đăng Lâm’s homeland was

in Bến Tre Province[15] and that he had many friends within the ranks of
the NLF.

For Tết, the Lunar New Year of the Rooster (1969), the overseas
Vietnamese in Paris organized splendid festivities to welcome the DRVN
and NLF delegations. One large meeting at the Mutualité Meeting Hall
gathered together several thousand overseas Vietnamese compatriots and
friends from France and other nations. The elderly, the brothers and sisters
who were laborers, and those who were intellectuals grasped our hands,
reluctant to part.

A formally dressed man of about thirty came up to me. “Do you
remember me?” he said. “I was your student at Nam Việt School. Now, I
have a doctorate.” Truly, my time as a teacher had been a long time before.
During 1954-1955, Duy Liên and I taught at Nam Việt School, which was
headed by Professor Phạm Huy Thông.[16] So much water had flowed
under the bridge since that time. I regret that I did not have time to ask my
former student for his name; I was delighted that he had valued our
teaching.

In April 1969, I visited England. During the war in Việt Nam, Great
Britain—the closest US ally in Europe—supported the US policy of
aggression. Therefore, members of NLF mass organizations could not
secure visas to England. But by 1969, the United States sat at the same
table with the National Liberation Front at the Paris Conference. Great
Britain no longer had any reason to hinder us. My visit to England was an
event. British friends were delighted and organized an enthusiastic
welcome. Many organizations in England supported our struggle, but for
many reasons, these activists could not coordinate their activities.

Nevertheless, a forest of people congregated at Trafalgar Square, the
largest public square in London. The participants paraded with banners
announcing, “Solidarity with Vietnam!” and “Stop the War!” Our British
friends led me up to the base of the statue, the highest place in the square,
so I could speak. Before, whenever the representatives of the various
organizations spoke, people in the audience erupted into heated
discussions among themselves, creating a turbulent atmosphere. Yet when
the MC introduced a representative of Việt Nam, everyone became quiet.
Each person strained to hear. At first, standing up there so high, I felt
rather nervous, but after a few minutes facing the sympathetic attitude and
respect emanating from the audience, I became forceful.

At the end of the rally, my friends and the organizing committee
accompanied me in a march, where I was flanked by two rows of tall, stout
security guards. Indeed, it was true that in the imperialist countries the
government’s policy and the people’s wishes were opposite. The people of
every country value justice; their deep wish is always tied directly to a
peaceful life and friendly relationships. During that visit, I also had the
chance to meet directly with members from the Labor Party in the British
Parliament. I described for them the Vietnamese situation and our
position.

During the mid and late 1960s and early 1970s, many remarkable
events occurred in the US antiwar movement: Norman Morrison
immolated himself at the Pentagon; the student movement erupted on
college campuses; national guardsmen killed four students during a
demonstration at Kent State University; and there were massive vigils in
Washington and other cities.

Late in April 1969, I returned to Hà Nội to receive new directives. I
visited my father in the Soviet-Vietnamese Friendship Hospital, where he
had been hospitalized for several months. That was the last time I saw my
father. At the end of May, while in Paris, I received the news of his death. I
was in immense pain, reproaching myself that I had not been at his side
during his last moments.

During that same trip back home, Uncle Hồ invited me to visit and
share a meal. He inquired about the work of the negotiations in Paris and
about the overseas Vietnamese compatriots in France and England. Uncle
Hồ reminded me about the importance of taking part in the campaigns of
people from different countries, since these ordinary people were the ones
who truly valued justice and peace. I did not realize that this would be the
last time I would meet with Uncle Hồ.

I brought back with me to the conference the Front’s Ten-Point
Solution.[17] Comrade Trần Bửu Kiếm, head of the NLF delegation,
announced this position in the meeting at Kléber Center on May 8, 1969.
The impact of the Ten Points was huge, especially on American public
opinion. These points explained the forceful actions that had such a
decisive effect in the United States at that time.

Then in early September came the event that brought us relentless
sorrow: Uncle Hồ, the esteemed father of our nation, passed away when
the efforts of our people reached a decisive phase.

On September 2, Comrade Xuân Thủy and I returned to Hà Nội in
mourning for Uncle Hồ. The whole country was in deep sorrow.

*

**

Although I have mentioned the shift from the NLF to the PRG before, I
feel a fuller explanation might be useful.

The National Liberation Front of South Việt Nam, which had been
established eight years before with “good weather, favorable terrain, and
concord among the people,”[18] had grown like Phù Đổng.[19] We had
established NLF committees in each area of the South, including in areas
the enemy temporarily occupied. Other countries, including many socialist
countries and other friendly nations, had officially recognized the NLF as
a government, even though we still used the “Front” in our name.

However, we had reached the point where we needed to establish a
government in order to manage the increase in our liberated areas and to
have an official voice for the people of the South in the international
arena. On June 6, 1969, we formally established the Provisional
Revolutionary Government (PRG) of the Republic of South Việt Nam with
twelve domestic and foreign policies.[20] Here was a new development in
our Resistance Movement against the United States in South Việt Nam.
The government had an Advisory Council with lawyer Nguyễn Hữu
Thọ[21] as president, Lawyer Trịnh Đình Thảo[22] as vice president, and
with the participation of many other patriotic intellectuals. The head of
government was architect Huỳnh Tấn Phát.[23]

At the time, I was in Paris. The newly formed government in the South
selected me as foreign minister and simultaneously as head of our PRG
delegation at the four-party Paris Conference. I succeeded Comrade Trần
Bửu Kiếm, who returned to Việt Nam to serve as minister of the Office of

Government. To be honest, I was not pleased to hear about my
appointment as foreign minister, for I saw that my responsibilities would
be far heavier.

The announcement of the foundation of the PRG was an important
event. People inside the country were delighted. Sài Gòn was in an uproar,
and international public opinion paid close attention. We predicted several
possibilities when we announced at the negotiations that I would be
replacing Comrade Trần Bửu Kiếm as our delegation’s head and when we
simultaneously announced that we would be taking part in the meetings as
the newly established Provisional Revolutionary Government of the
Republic of South Việt Nam. For example, the US representatives might
have objected and stopped the talks. We certainly did not expect to hear
the American head of delegation gasp in surprise and then say, “Your
choice of representative is your internal affair.”

For our two delegations, those celebratory days in Paris were like a
festival. I received many flowers and congratulatory cards and was
constantly meeting delegations. The DRVN delegation led by Comrade Lê
Đức Thọ[24] and Comrade Xuân Thủy arrived first. Then the Soviet,
Chinese, and Cuban ambassadors to France arrived to present their
congratulations and announce their governments’ formal diplomatic
recognition of the PRG. Then the Association of Overseas Vietnamese in
France, the French Communist Party, and representatives of mass
organizations of women, youth, and laborers arrived in turn.

International journalists quickly announced the news. Within a short
time, twenty countries announced their official diplomatic recognition of

the PRG. These included Cuba and Algeria, two special friends of Việt
Nam; most of these other nations were also in the socialist camp.

With these steps, our representation of the South at the conference table
became even more articulate, tenacious, and dignified.

Our delegation’s composition did not change significantly. I replaced
Comrade Trần Bửu Kiếm as delegation head. Comrades Đinh Bá Thi[25]
and Nguyễn Văn Tiến[26] became deputy delegation heads. Sister Duy
Liên[27] returned home, but Sister Nguyễn Thị Chơn[28] joined us, and
then the following year, Sister Phan Thị Minh[29] arrived.

*

**

Our delegation in Paris was based mainly at Verrieres-le-Buisson
(Cambaceres Road), with part of the group at Massy, five or six kilometers
away in a working-class area. Our whole delegation had thirty people,
including officials and support personnel. Only ten of us—myself, Bình
Thanh, several protocol officials, and security personnel—lived at
Verrieres-le-Buisson in an old, scenic villa atop a broad hill overlooking a
lake with swans. Indeed, it was a poetic setting.

Behind the villa was a small garden with a dozen cherry trees. In the
afternoon, we women in the delegation would often pick cherries and chat.
The comrades responsible for cooking our meals planted a small vegetable
garden and raised chickens in the yard between the villa’s kitchen and the
row of neighboring houses. After our nerve-racking work sessions, we
diplomats would water the vegetables and feed the chickens as a diversion.

We lived at the Verrieres-le-Buisson villa for five years, five years of the
swans’ life on the lake, and five years history can never forget.

The French government provided a police escort whenever the
delegation traveled in an official capacity. A police car led the procession,
while the car with the head of delegation had four motorcycle escorts, with
two on each side. Whenever the entire delegation went to a meeting at
Kléber Conference Center, we became a cavalcade led by a police car and
eight accompanying police officers on motorcycles.

The French Communist Party was the organization most helpful to the
delegation. We had only a few security officers from Việt Nam. The
French Communist Party supplied all the other security officials and the
vehicle drivers as a contribution.

Most members of our PRG delegation were political officials from
many different local areas and different State branches; we had only one
military official. We worked together amidst great unity, for we shared
deep feelings about our parentage and heritage in the South. We constantly
thought of our loved ones struggling in our ancestral villages and felt we
must execute our responsibilities to the very best of our abilities. Bình
Thanh, my secretary, was a very sensitive person. She would often say,
“Ours is an endearing community.” We seldom went out just for the fun of
it, although we would occasionally gather up the entire delegation and go
to a park or to the forest to gather mushrooms.

The house at Massy had two ping-pong tables. In the evenings, the
brothers and sisters there would play ping-pong or boules. The foreign
press, in particular the French, would compare our delegation with the one
from the Sài Gòn administration. With high salaries supported by the

United States, the Sài Gòn administration delegates had the means to visit
many entertainment sites in and around Paris. Some journalists wrote that
our office was like a “monastery” of men without their wives and a
“convent” of women without their husbands. We lived frugally,
economizing whenever and wherever we could. Some journalists wanted
to film the daily living conditions of the head of the “Việt Cộng”
delegation, but we firmly declined, offering the excuse that Vietnamese
customs would not approve of publicizing a woman’s private living
quarters.

The truth is that we could hardly show anyone the room where Bình
Thanh and I lived. It was upstairs, directly under the mansard roof; the
space was so tight that our two beds were as close together as cots in a
Vietnamese hospital ward. Curious journalists sometimes asked where I
went to have an áo dài made, where I went to the hairdresser, and which
beauty salon I used. I would provide an elusive answer by way of an
anecdote.

Some reporters would ask in a fault-finding tone, “Aren’t you a
member of the Communist Party?” I would smile and answer, “I’m a
patriot. My party is a patriotic party determined to struggle for our
country’s independence and freedom.” Then there were the journalists who
commented, “Your name means ‘peace,’ but you speak only of war.” How
could I respond to that challenge except by raising the question of the
American war of aggression and by speaking clearly about the meaning of
our people’s determination to achieve peace, independence, and freedom?

Those journalists had to conclude that we never wanted war. Rather, the
French colonizers and the American imperialists had forced our people to

stand up and defend themselves.

To sharpen our arguments at the negotiating table and to buttress wider
public discussion, we read books about world history and particularly
about our own country’s history. I especially liked to read about the period
of Lê Lợi[30] and Nguyễn Trãi[31] in the fifteenth century. Five hundred
years before us, our ancestors had organized a very skillful, coordinated
struggle on three fronts—political, military, and diplomatic. Nguyễn Trãi’s
diplomatic letters were unsurpassable—at times strong and at times
conciliatory as he pressured and persuaded his Chinese opponents to
withdraw their troops from our country. Nearly six centuries later, we were
following our country’s tradition of fighting the aggressors. Like our
forefathers, we were using both bravery and intelligence.

*

**

In addition to preparing for meetings at Kléber Conference Center, we
had to set aside considerable time to meet with the press. For me, there
were periods when it seemed like I was meeting daily with one or two
television companies or with journalists from newspapers in France, the
United States, Great Britain, and Japan. The list goes on. In general, the
attitude of the press was sympathetic toward the DRVN delegation and
particularly toward the PRG delegation. The brothers in the two
delegations would tease us, saying, “The Westerners fawn over you
women!”

We faced highly sensitive issues. We would discuss them extensively to
reach unified, appropriate answers. The external-relations front was its

own battlefield. Perhaps we can say that we viewed our arguments
presented at any given point as also leading to our country’s victory.

Our opponents and the journalists would persist in asking whether
Northern Vietnamese troops were in the South. We had received a
directive: “You must not say Northern troops are in the South. You must
not say Northern troops are not in the South.” And so, I would answer,
“The Vietnamese people are one. The Vietnamese in the North, just like
the Vietnamese in the South, all have the same obligation toward society—
to fight against aggression.” The journalists would turn their questions this
way and turn them that way, but I would hold to that one approach
whenever I answered. In the end, the persistent journalists had to reconcile
themselves to accepting my response as stated.

In 1969, we announced that our liberated area covered two thirds of the
South. Then, in 1971, we announced that we had “expanded” our liberated
area to three-quarters of the South. At that time, our main-force troops in
the battlefield faced many difficulties; the war had forced some of our
troops to slip over the border into Cambodia. The enemy bombed
everywhere, even the areas just outside Sài Gòn. We discussed with each
other how to respond to journalists.

“The United States is bombing everywhere,” I would say. “Most of the
places the United States has destroyed are in our liberated areas. If it is not
true that we control so much territory, then why is the United States
bombing everywhere?” This reasoning was so clear that it caused the
journalists to nod their heads in agreement.

I remember most of all a large meeting in the middle of 1971 with TV
journalists. French television had taken the initiative to organize a live,

simultaneous broadcast from two sites—one in Paris and one in
Washington. Twenty journalists took part. Ten, who were mostly
Americans, would protect the US position; ten others, who were mostly
French, would be neutral and objective. I was invited to take part, but I
wavered. I kept thinking I would be all by myself and stupefied in the
midst of so many sharp-tongued journalists. I had never met any of them,
and I would have to debate directly in French. Comrade Dương Đình Thảo,
our press attaché, and the other brothers and sisters in our delegation
encouraged me. They said this was a great opportunity to introduce the
entire world to our just position and to expose the US schemes and cruelty.
And so, they said, I should make the most of this opportunity.

The broadcast was nearly two tension-filled hours under bright studio
lights. For the most part, the journalists focused on the usual positions of
the United States and Việt Nam at the negotiating table. Although my heart
was thumping, I tried to be calm and answer with composure and strength
but also with courteous affability. I explained our good intentions and our
wish to find a political solution to end our people’s pain and suffering. At
the same time, I expressed our determination to achieve inviolable
freedom, independence, and unification for our country. At the end of the
meeting, I breathed a huge sigh of relief because I had completed a very
difficult assignment.

Comrade Xuân Thủy phoned me with praise. “You were courageous,”
he said.

Many French friends, especially the women, telephoned their
congratulations, saying the broadcast was an important success. Days
later, members of the press were still talking about that event.

We were always looking for new initiatives to expand our influence.
One action was very special: From Paris, we organized with our friends in
New York an antiwar meeting coordinated across the Atlantic Ocean. At
the appointed hour, our friends in New York phoned to inform us that
everyone had arrived at the meeting hall. They asked us to speak to the
meeting by telephone. I spoke, and Bình Thanh interpreted. The applause
was enthusiastic. We could not hear clearly when the Americans spoke, but
we could guess the contents. This innovation contributed to US
understanding of our position and created greater sympathy.

However, not every initiative was successful. We had noticed that more
than a few senators and representatives in the US Congress opposed the
war. I discussed with Older Brother Lý Văn Sáu the idea of writing a letter
to the US Congress in hopes that Congress would contemplate the
American tradition honoring freedom and think about the American youth
who had died in Việt Nam. The arguments presented in the letter carefully
weighed the pros and cons; they were mild-mannered and reasonable. A
few days after sending the letter, we learned that the US Congress had
objected that the letter was “not constructive” and that, by behaving this
way, we were interfering in US internal affairs. This was a small matter,
but we did gain from it a greater understanding of a large country’s self-
conceit, and we learned a lesson in international deportment.

The choice of Paris as the site of the negotiations was a large victory
for us. Perhaps the United States did not realize that even though Việt Nam
had fought with France, our nation had many close and supportive French
friends as well as huge community of patriotic overseas Vietnamese. Paris,
which at that time was regarded as the center of Europe and the center of
world public opinion, provided us with a favorable location for sending