The Foreign Service Journal, January 2008

50 F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L / J A N U A R Y 2 0 0 8 dviser Pendergrast,” the young Vietnamese school teacher said, “Americans have suffered great casu- alties, but you must understand that we Vietnamese have lost many more supporting you.” Thanh and I were nursing midafternoon beers in the welcome shade of an outdoor café patio along a busy provincial highway. It was early 1971, and I was well into my second year as a civilian adviser in Tay Ninh province, which bordered Cambodia about 100 kilometers north of Saigon. “But Mr. Thanh,” I reacted with some incredulity, “we’re supporting a free and democratic Vietnam. That really is why we are here.” A steady stream of U.S. and Vietnamese army trucks raced by, suffocating us with clouds of diesel exhaust. Thanh smiled indulgently. Outside the classroom, he was a prominent local activist with the Dai Viet, a non- communist nationalist movement. “Independence has always been precious to us. But in Vietnam, my friend, the words freedom and democracy have a very different mean- ing. This is your war and not ours.” Thanh and most Vietnamese did not share or under- stand America’s fixation on democracy and nationbuilding. Indeed, in many ways, Americans and Vietnamese did not speak the same language even when using English. More than 30 years later, Americans once again are tilt- ing at windmills in the Third World to confirm our pre- conceptions about democracy and freedom. Our mission in Iraq is even more fragile and shaky than in Vietnam dur- ing the early 1970s. Bombings and mayhem proliferate on Iraqi streets; Americans hide in fortress-like compounds and military camps; public services are haphazard in what many believe is an emerging “failed state;” the country is fragmented by sectarian and tribal rivalries. During my 1970-1971 tenure in Vietnam, the war unfolded mainly in remote rural and border regions. The daily lives of most Vietnamese were generally unaffected. I routinely traveled unescorted across a serene Vietnamese countryside, something unimaginable by any American in Iraq today. Filters or Blinders? Both in Iraq and Vietnam, Americans have been blind- ed by faith in exceptionalism: the tendency to view the world through the filter of our own institutions and values, even when surveying societies with vastly different histo- ries and cultures. This attitude is rooted in America’s origins and charac- ter. We are a nation united by ideas and not by the eth- nicity, religion, culture or tribal traditions dominating other countries. The unifying ideology of the United States — a shared commitment to representative government and individual freedom — succeeded and attracted millions of immigrants seeking to share this dream. We passionately E CHOES OF THE P AST M ORE THAN 30 YEARS AFTER THE V IETNAM W AR , A MERICANS ONCE AGAIN ARE TILTING AT WINDMILLS TO CONFIRM OUR PRECONCEPTIONS ABOUT DEMOCRACY AND FREEDOM . “ A B Y D ELL F. P ENDERGRAST Dell F. Pendergrast was a Foreign Service officer from 1965 to 1997, serving in Belgrade, Zagreb, Saigon, Warsaw, Brussels, Ottawa and Washington, D.C. After retiring from the Service, he was director of the George J. Mitchell Scholarships program.