#MaiLaiMassacre50 #मीलायकत्तल
Today March 16 2018 is 50th anniversary of one of the sorriest chapters in human history: The Mai Lai Massacre (मी लाय कत्तल), Vietnam
Barbara W. Tuchman , ‘The March of Folly : From Troy to Vietnam’, 1984:
Viet Thanh Nguyen, ‘Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and the Memory of War', 2016:
Today March 16 2018 is 50th anniversary of one of the sorriest chapters in human history: The Mai Lai Massacre (मी लाय कत्तल), Vietnam
Barbara W. Tuchman , ‘The March of Folly : From Troy to Vietnam’, 1984:
“Ignorance was not a factor in the American endeavor in
Vietnam pursued through five successive presidencies, although it was to become
an excuse. Ignorance of country and culture there may have been, but not
ignorance of the contra-indications, even the barriers, to achieving the
objectives of American policy. All the conditions and reasons precluding a
successful outcome were recognized or foreseen at one time or another during
the thirty years of our involvement. American intervention was not a progress sucked
step by step into an unsuspected quagmire. At no time were policy-makers
unaware of the hazards, obstacles and negative developments. American
intelligence was adequate, informed observation flowed steadily from the field
to the capital, special investigative missions were repeatedly sent out,
independent reportage to balance professional optimism—when that prevailed—was
never lacking. The folly consisted not in pursuit of a goal in ignorance of the
obstacles but in persistence in the pursuit despite accumulating evidence that
the goal was unattainable, and the effect disproportionate to the American
interest and eventually damaging to American society, reputation and disposable
power in the world.
The question raised is why did the policy-makers close their
minds to the evidence and its implications? This is the classic symptom of
folly: refusal to draw conclusions from the evidence, addiction to the
counter-productive. The “why” of this refusal and this addiction may disclose
itself in the course of retracing the tale of American policy-making in
Vietnam...”
Nick Turse:
“As I came to see the indiscriminate killing of South
Vietnamese noncombatants — the endless slaughter that wiped out civilians day
after day, month after month, year after year throughout the Vietnam War — was
neither accidental nor unforeseeable.”
Kendrick Oliver, History Today, February 2006:
“...The silence that generally surrounds the massacre in
contemporary American discourse contrasts not just with the urgent babble of voices
offering opinions on the subject at the turn of the 1960s, but also with the
persistence of debates about the Vietnam War as a whole...
... Americans, indeed, were far more interested in the
character and fate of the perpetrators than those of their victims. As many
media commentators noted, there seemed to be nothing in the background of the
soldiers involved that explained how they had come to engage so willingly in
slaughter...”
Max Hastings, London Review of Books, January 25 2018:
"...The damage inflicted by My Lai on the image of the
US and its armed forces as ‘crusaders for freedom’ persists to this day. As so
often with stories of this kind, the institutionalised cover-up and the surge
of public support for those who carried out the offences, make even uglier
reading than the narrative of the original massacre. The apologists for C
Company, and indeed for the US army, tried to make a case that, while it may
not have been entirely acceptable to murder Vietnamese peasants, it was
understandable and excusable. .."
Photo courtesy: Ronald Haeberle, November 1969/ Getty
Viet Thanh Nguyen, ‘Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and the Memory of War', 2016:
“...On a smaller scale and in the middle of the country, the
Son My museum that commemorates the My Lai massacre focuses on the singular
tragedy of the five hundred people murdered—some raped—by American troops. The
aftermath of their story is the same as the common narrative, the triumphant
revolution eventually transforming the war-blasted landscape of village and
province with verdant fields, new bridges, lively schools, and lovely people.
While the photographs that decorate these museums feature real people, the
captions underlining them have stamped them flat, as in the Son My museum’s
display of Ronald Haeberle’s most famous photograph, underwritten with this:
“The last moment of life for villager women and children under a silk cotton
tree before being murdered by the U.S. soldiers.” Whoever these civilians and
soldiers were in their complex lives and complicated histories, they exist in
the caption as victims and villains in a drama that justifies the revolution
and the party. The caption as genre echoes the slogan as genre, from Follow
Uncle Ho’s Shining Example to Nothing Is More Precious than Independence and
Freedom. Slogans like these exemplify the Communist Party’s story of itself,
which has become, for now, the official story of the country and the nation...”