Bien Hoa, Vietnam
ADMINISTRATOR POWER: Thank you so much. Thank you to Vice Minister Hoàng Xuân Chiến for your presence, and to all the senior leaders who are here today. Thanks to the media, and thanks, of course, to Ambassador Knapper and the entire U.S. delegation. I also want to join others in thanking Senator Leahy, who I promise you is here with us in spirit. And what a spirit Senator Leahy has, and what a spirit he has brought to the U.S.-Vietnamese relationship— partnership—over so many years.
I feel personally, indescribably privileged, honestly, to be here today on behalf of President Biden and on behalf of the American people. When the USAID brand appears anywhere—the USAID symbol—it has under it, usually, “From the American People.” And I think this effort that we have embarked upon together really grows out of that spirit—from the American people.
It is difficult, walking through this serene park, to imagine it half a century ago: the constant roar of warplanes overhead, the lines of hangers and barracks stretching for miles, next to mounds of metal barrels with an orange stripe around their side—Agent Orange.
The writings that soldiers left behind paint a harrowing picture of what that time was like. Decades ago, a Vietnamese writer and an American writer worked together to compile a book called Poems from Captured Documents.
They combed through old journals that were captured from North Vietnamese soldiers during the war. And in these standard issue notebooks, scrawled alongside letters, medical records, and technical instructions, they found troves of poems.
In the poems, soldiers write of missing home, of longing for what one described as the “rose-pink sunlight” over his village; the red-tiled roofs of their houses; as another put it, the “almond trees overshadowing the banyans.”
The soldiers also write of loss. One soldier tells of a friend and fellow soldier who has gone missing. He describes long nights, crying for his lost friend. In his desperation, in these writings, he asks:
“How can one find one's way to the future?”
In the face of such enormous suffering, this young man felt it was impossible to move forward. And he poses a deep question.
How can we heal when the pain is so immense?
How can we overcome trauma when it is passed down across generations?
How can we repair when the damage is so profound that it has seeped into the very ground beneath our feet?
For many years, our countries did not move forward; we did not heal. Our two governments did not speak with one another about past pain, did not attend to the wounds that were still open wounds.
Until—slowly, unevenly—things began to change.
Thích Nhất Hạnh, the Buddhist Monk and peace advocate, used to teach a set of practices that monks had used for thousands of years to resolve disputes.
Sit across from each other, he instructs, and tell the story of what happened. Try not to be stubborn; try to admit when you have erred. Let the community come to a consensus about how you can repair the damage, and accept that consensus when it is reached.
And look to the senior members of the community to, in his words, “put straw over mud:” to provide, when the process gets difficult, the wisdom and perspective to move forward… like building a path that helps you walk over mud in the rain.
Our two nations have been undertaking a similar process for nearly half a century now.
Led by courageous leaders like late Foreign Minister Nguyen Co Thach, former Foreign Minister Nguyen Manh Cam, Ambassador Le Van Bang, and U.S. Senators John McCain, John Kerry, and Patrick Leahy, we began confronting this difficult past, finding that path forward, somehow, together.
Vietnam helped the United States locate hundreds of our missing soldiers.
The United States began helping Vietnam remove landmines and unexploded bombs and providing support to people suffering from disabilities caused by the war.
A friendship began between our two peoples. The general secretary of Vietnam's Communist Party, as well as presidents and prime ministers, began making official visits. Our economies opened to one another, our cultural exchanges increased, and our partnership grew, and it grew. This year, in fact, marks the 10-year anniversary of our comprehensive partnership—a partnership we are certain to strengthen.
But for years, a big point of contention remained: the dioxin that still contaminated the ground itself, passing on the pain of war to new generations of Vietnamese people.
It took us far too long to acknowledge our responsibility to repair this damage. The problem seemed impossibly large.
But then, Vietnamese and Canadian scientists, supported by the Ford Foundation, worked together to show us, quite literally, where to start—identifying the dioxin contaminated spots that remain across the country. Then, an American small business named TeraTherm developed a technology to remediate the soil—by heating it in a two-story high oven the size of a football field.
We used this technology, as you know, to successfully clean up the Da Nang Airport in 2018. That project required treating enough dirt to fill 36 Olympic-sized swimming pools. And the Bien Hoa remediation will treat over three times that amount when it is complete.
To clean up Bien Hoa, we are working in close collaboration with our partners here in Vietnam. The Ministry of National Defense has done essential work—checking and clearing the contaminated areas of unexploded ordnance, analyzing the soil for dioxin to confirm when an area is actually clean.
And the Vietnamese businesses we have invested in to help us carry out this work have been remarkable partners as well. When COVID-19 hit, the workers from two of our partners committed to live, work, and eat on the base for three full months to prevent themselves from contracting COVID-19 out in their communities. They made an extraordinary sacrifice so that they could keep this project moving forward. Thanks to these heroic efforts, today, we are handing back the first parcel of remediated land—land that you all are sitting on as we speak. Land that is now clean, healthy, and safe.
And today, I'm most honored to announce the continuation of this work: a new agreement for up to $73 million to begin the next stage of the project, which will allow us to design, build, and operate a treatment facility to remediate highly-contaminated soil and sediment.
Our communities have reached a consensus about how we need to repair the damage that we've caused. It's up to all of us now, together, to finish the job.
We must also acknowledge, however, that even after we destroy all the remaining dioxin at this site, that will not remediate the pain that still persists for so many families—those who have severe disabilities, and those who still haven't been able to account for the loved ones that they lost in the war.
This afternoon, I will visit the home of a woman in Bien Hoa City who dedicates her life to her nephew, a man who is unable to speak and has only very limited mobility. The love, compassion, and resilience of these families is extraordinary. But the care they provide should not force them to live in poverty, or keep them from participating in their communities.
So USAID will be doubling our assistance to help care for persons with disabilities. And we will support those advocating for disability rights and the inclusion of those who have disabilities.
We will continue the Wartime Accounting Initiative in partnership with our Department of Defense and with the Government of Vietnam, conducting DNA analysis to identify the remains of missing Vietnamese soldiers so that they can be returned to their families.
We cannot overstate how vital this work is. I read of one woman in her 90s, from a town west of Hanoi, who lost two of her sons during the war, and spent decades with their pictures on the family altar, wondering where they were. She said that she refused to die until both of her sons had been returned home.
She knew what had become possible with DNA analysis. She said, “I only have two teeth left, and I have to keep these teeth so that they can identify my son.”
Her family tracked down one of her sons in 2011. Eventually, they helped find the place where her other son was buried as well. And her DNA proved to be a match.
With both her sons returned to her, she died in her 90s, finally at peace.
There are so many more families like hers, waiting to learn the fate of their loved ones. Recently, mass graves were found on this very site. In 2017, an American veteran helped identify and unearth a grave here at Bien Hoa where 150 Vietnamese soldiers were buried. So far, 72 of those soldiers have been recovered, honored, and laid to rest. And it is our responsibility to keep up our efforts, here at Bien Hoa and across the country, as we do for our own missing from the war.
The soldier who wrote the poem about his missing friend died back in 1970.
But I wish he could have been here to see this moment. This gorgeous park. The prosperous city that stretches beyond it. The friendship between our two peoples—that is only growing stronger every day.
It might seem, to him, a scene too outlandish to be real.
But together, we are finding our way to the future.
Not only healing old wounds, but working side by side to drive economic growth, to grapple with a changing climate, and to safeguard health. Advancing, together, towards shared prosperity, deeper friendship, and lasting peace.
I am honored to be on this path with you. And I thank you so much.
USAID Administrator Travels to Vietnam
