The Thích Quảng Đức Episode (A Snapshot from The Cold War's Killing Fields)

In October I read Paul Thomas Chamberlin's The Cold War Killing Fields, which I wrote about here. During the time I was reading it I repeatedly indicated to people that it was one of the saddest books I've ever read. The sadness came from two sources. First, because of the quantity of human suffering that has occurred over the course of my lifetime since World War II. And second, my own grief over the role the U.S. has played in contributing to civilian suffering in so many places and in so many ways.

The power of the book comes from the author's efforts to bring context to the manifold stories which may have made national news but which were presented without our real understanding. Many stories show how the U.S. government deliberately twisted the facts in order to achieve its own ends. Eventually, as in the case of the Viet Nam War, the public no matter trusted its government's interpretations and spin.

It's my hope to produce a series of blog posts highlighting several examples from our recent history so that we understand more clearly why there are such divergent views and attitudes about who we are as a nation.

The story of Thích Quảng Đức begins on page 201 in Chamberlin's book. It produced one of the most memorable images from the conflict in Southeast Asia, a Buddhist monk self-immolating. What was less clear to most Americans was the reason this man burned himself to death in the middle of a busy intersection.

Quảng Đức was protesting the persecution of Buddhists by the South Vietnamese government led by Ngô Đình Diệm. Viet Nam was between 70 and 90% Buddhist, but the U.S. backed President Diem was Catholic. The sacrificial death aimed to draw attention to the persecution and policies of the Diem government.

Malcolm Browne of the Associated Press won a Pulitzer Prize for the photo. Browne and David Halberstam of the New York Times were present because the day before someone notified the press corps in Saigon that "something important" was going to happen outside the Cambodian Embassy the following morning. Most of the reporters ignored this information,

The incident sparked protests throughout the country. In response President Diem declared martial law and claimed the protests were stoked by the National Liberation Front (NLF). The First Lady remarked that she "would clap hands at seeing another monk barbecue show."

John Kennedy and his administration were at odds as to how to respond to these events. Diem had to go but would the next puppet president be any better? Ultimately our government solved the problem by supporting a coup that began on November 1 with U.S. government approval and on November 2 Diem, having surrendered, was shot inside an armored vehicle while being taken into custody. 20 days later the U.S. president would likewise be on the receiving end of a bullet in the head.

* * * * 

The incident that triggered this unraveling of the Diem government took place on June 11. On June 12 another significant event occurred. NAACP leader and civil rights activist Medgar Evers, was shot from behind and killed as he walked toward his home in Mississippi after a long day's work. The incident was one of many that strengthened the resolve of civil rights leaders across the country and especially throughout the Jim Crow South.

Two powerful songs were written in response to this cold-blooded murder, Nina Simone's Missisippi Goddam and Bob Dylan's Only a Pawn in Their Game, which he sang later that summer at the Washington D.C. March for Civil Rights, led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., August 28, 1963. 

* * * * 

Grief is a process that though hard to go through is intended to result in acceptance and measure of healing or inner resolution. Those stages are (1) denial, (2) anger, (3) bargaining, (4) depression, and (5) acceptance. What I have learned over the course of a lifetime is that the grieving process takes time, sometimes years and sometimes decades.

Is it possible that moving from innocence to maturity is a process similar to grief in which we have to come to terms with lost innocence. We know the Peter Pan Syndrome is about boys who won't grow up. Is it possible that we have over-believed in the goodness of our government, America the Beautiful, beacon of light to the world?

Marvin Gaye nailed it when he sang, "What's Goin' On?" in 1970.  And the author of the Book of Ecclesiastes seems to have had all this in mind when he wrote,

"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; 

 the more knowledge, the more grief." (Eccles. 1:18)

TAKEAWAYS FROM THIS STORY 

1. Chamberlin's book provides context to help us understand many of the news stories we heard about or observed during our lifetimes.

2. Events of 1963 became a critical turning point in both the war in Southeast Asia and in the Civil Rights movement in America.

3. American power has not always been used benevolently or wisely. The attempt to help people gain a more realistic picture of our nation and its abuses of power should not be taken to be akin to "hate America first." There are reasons people distrust power. We need to understand where people are coming from in order to be bridge-builders instead of wall-builders.

Related Links
My initial review of  The Cold War's Killing Fields
Everything Is Broken
The 1971 Concert for Bangladesh

Fifty Years Ago Today This Martyr For Civil Rights Took a Bullet

On Monday the Duluth News Tribune printed an article about the Clayton Jackson McGhie Memorial memorial that was completed and commemorated in our town ten years ago. This one of a kind memorial is aimed at helping us not forget the three black men who were lynched on this corner June 15, 1920.
According to the article , art historian LaTonya Autry will be speaking this Friday "at the 10th annual Day of Remembrance at the CJM memorial, part of a week of activities run by the memorial board."

Lynchings around the country were all too common a century ago. The reason Ms. Autry returned to Duluth this week is because our memorial here is uncommon. It was a senseless killing. A memorial like this reminds us of who we've been, makes an appeal to think different, be different, and to not forget.

On this date a half century ago there was another senseless killing. Medgar Evers, a man dedicated to empowering Southern blacks through the exercise of democracy, took a bullet in the back of his head as he was walking from his car to his front door. There are memorials in Jackson, Miss. now as well, but it was Bob Dylan's "memorial in song" that brought this event -- along with the power constructs that made it inevitable --into the spotlight of national attention so we'd never forget.

The opening line of the song rings out with a poetic potency that is arresting. "A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers' blood."  As the story unfolds it reveals. (1)

He knew he was putting his life on the line by attempting to alter existing power structures and to right wrongs. What surprises so many people here in the Northland is that the wrongs Evers fought against were taking place somewhere else and we just don't associate this kind of blatant racial violence with our home town. We'd be more comfortable it remained in its place.

Strange Fruit Southern trees bear strange fruit, 
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root, 
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze, 
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees. (2)

The memorial downtown reminds us that no place is immune. The world is broken and for this we must occasionally grieve so that we can move forward with hope.

(1) Only a Pawn In Their Game  
(2) Strange Fruit