Breaking Free from the “Procrustean Bed” of History

Thanh Tâm wrote this article in Vietnamese and published it in Luat Khoa Magazine on May 7, 2025. Đàm Vĩnh Hằng translated it into English for The Vietnamese Magazine.

The Procrustean Bed of History

If you were born in southern Việt Nam after 1975, chances are you grew up firmly believing that the Republic of Việt Nam was nothing more than a puppet regime of the United States, while the North heroically defeated both the French and the Americans to unify the country. That is the version of history taught in the schools of a socialist Việt Nam—a one-size-fits-all narrative, like a “Procrustean bed,” rigid and narrow. 

This education system taught an entire generation to think in one direction: obediently and unquestioningly, with no demand for critical thought.

It told us the South was subservient to the U.S. but failed to mention how deeply the North relied on aid from the Soviet Union and China. It blamed the Việt Nam War on American aggression but left out how the North launched infiltration campaigns, sabotage operations, and acts of terror throughout the South. It celebrated the “liberation of the South” and the nation’s joyful unification while ignoring the human toll that followed: the re-education camps, the flight of the boat people, the exile to “New Economic Zones,” and the widespread discrimination that followed.

This version of history painted the southern government as a powerless puppet, yet omitted the fact that South Việt Nam had once been a relatively functional state, with sectors of its economy that rivaled those in Hong Kong and Japan at the time. History was taught not to inform but to control how people thought about the past. And if you can control the past, you can shape the future—one of the most powerful tools in the arsenal of an authoritarian regime. 

However, this only works in a closed-off nation. Today, a one-dimensional history no longer holds. The Việt Nam War and its aftermath were too vast and too painful to be buried by any textbook.

Reclaiming the Past, Building the Future

Persisting in teaching this one-sided version of history is not only outdated; it is dangerous. It risks deepening the division among Vietnamese people and, more importantly, it erodes trust in the government itself. As information flows more freely, people, especially southerners, will inevitably recognize that the history they were taught was skewed, sanitized, and unjust. Once that realization sets in, it is a short step from distrusting the government’s version of the past to doubting its truthfulness in the present.

By clinging to a singular narrative, the government also deprives itself of the chance to use history wisely—not to suppress, but to reconcile and unify. Việt Nam needs a multi-perspective history now more than ever. Following the ideologically rigid era of former General Secretary Nguyễn Phú Trọng, current Party leader Tô Lâm appears to be ushering in a new chapter. If that is truly the case, then allowing for a more honest retelling of Việt Nam’s history would be a powerful and practical step, not just more empty rhetoric about unity.

A multi-perspective historical narrative does not threaten the current regime; the fear that acknowledging painful truths will unravel political stability is no longer realistic in the modern world. In fact, embracing a fuller view of the past may send the clearest signal yet that the current leadership is ready to break from the missteps of its predecessors and build genuine public trust.

Taiwan Offers a Powerful Example

Taiwan offers a powerful example of how a nation can confront its own dark history. Under the rule of Chiang Kai-shek, the revered founder of modern Taiwan and leader of the Kuomintang (KMT), the country endured an era of brutal repression where tens of thousands were imprisoned, tortured, and killed. One of the darkest episodes was the 228 Massacre in 1947, when state forces indiscriminately killed civilians. For decades, any discussion of the event was banned, and younger generations were raised in silence.

That silence was broken in 1995. Forty-eight years after the massacre, then-President Lee Teng-hui—also a member of the KMT—issued a formal public apology. His government initiated compensation for the victims' families and, most importantly, allowed for public education and open discussion of the event.

Taiwan didn’t collapse. It matured.

Facing the Past

Việt Nam, too, has had nearly 50 years since the end of the war. Nearly three decades have passed since the last “New Economic Zone,” the last “re-education camp,” the last desperate boat escape.

Now is the time to look back.

To revisit the traumas. To acknowledge the suffering that earlier generations endured under state policy. To correct the record. To bring healing to broken families. And, most importantly, to teach future generations a history that is truthful, multi-dimensional, and reflective of the nation's profound complexity—before, during, and after the war.