Newsletter Article

Uncle Ho Slept Here

by Bruce Kemp

ho chi minh It's a quiet piece of local history that more globally oriented scholars have overlooked. But it paints a picture that flies in the face of the generally accepted view of the last half of the 20th century and one of the leaders in the Vietnam War.

We are on our way to meet a man who knew Ho Chi Minh. A man who saw the very human side of Ho and, as an eight year old in a world of conflict, managed to keep the Vietnamese leader's very presence in his northeastern Thai village a secret.

Like any other story of real import, this one has its beginnings in the banal.

You begin by driving along a macadam track on the outskirts of Nakhon Phanom, Thailand. In doing so you pass dozens of Thai homesteads all looking the same. These homes are mostly neat but unpainted. The elevated living quarters of these houses are clad in weathered teak planks and roofed with sheet metal. Below are small oases for families to relax in. Traditionally, the homes were hiked up on log stilts to allow air circulation and create shade in the hot months. In modern Southeast Asia concrete pillars have replaced the logs. The buildings look unkempt until you realize that the natural oils in the teak provide better weatherproofing than any man-made product and suddenly your western eye begins to undergo a subtle cultural shift.

Nick Ascot, GM North by North East Tours

Without Nick Ascot to guide me I would never have known where to find Uncle Thieu or even been aware of Ho Chi Minh's relationship with this part of the world. Nick is the director of North by North East Tours and has visited with Uncle Thieu a number of times.

The marker for Uncle Thieu's homestead is a plywood sign. It identifies a coconut palm that was planted by Ho Chi Minh when Ho used to hide out in the area. We parked at the edge of the road and followed a short path to the gatehouse of the Thieu compound.

Inside and away from the blinding noon sun you enter a room with a wardrobe surmounted by a bust of Uncle Ho. An inscribed coconut and several freshly cut flowers border the bust. Ironically, there is almost a religious sense of veneration surrounding the old communist.

Homage is still paid to the liberator of Vietnam

Uncle Thieu, who is in his eighties but looks like a man in his late fifties, sits straight-backed in the shade of another home in the family compound. Ho mementos and photographs surround him. Pinned to one concrete floor support is a copy of an article about Uncle Thieu and his relationship with the underground leader who outlasted the French, Japanese and Americans.

uncle thieu “I was eight years old then [ when he first met Ho ], and I did not know who he was, but I know he was a patriot…” Nick translates for me. “I had no idea who he was for a long time, other than his being an honoured guest. In those days his name was Tao Chin.

“My father told me about Ho's mission of reuniting Vietnam , but I did not understand this until I was a lot older. We only knew he was a patriot and those people like my father, and Ho's travelling companions showed him great respect, so I did too.”

Uncle Thieu, like so many of his neighbours, is an ethnic Vietnamese living in the Isan province of Thailand. It is a border region fronting on Laos and Cambodia. The Mekong River provides a natural divide here, but more importantly functions as a trade route between China, Myanmar (Burma), Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. When things got too hot for Ho in Indochina (the designation given to the area more than a century ago and still used to refer to the area east of the Mekong) Nakhon Phanom provided an ideal place to rest up in and lay future plans.

“Only a few men outside the five ‘members' [Sama-chick in Thai] with whom he normally travelled knew of his being a patriot in Vietnam. It was a secret. He was well received in the village and by local people, but most of his work in Thailand was not in our village.

Ho spent his energies travelling to Udon, Sakorn Nakorn and other towns along the river to visit supporters. Many of the ethnic Vietnamese in Thailand favoured an end to foreign leadership in Vietnam so Ho often turned to them for support and refuge.

Thailand was a safe haven for those working against foreign interests in Vietnam and other areas of Indochina because in the latter part of the 19 th century, King Mongkut was able to ward off the imperial aspirations of both the English and French to maintain his kingdom's independence.

Uncle Thieu developed his relationship with Ho because Thieu's father, Mai [Mr.] Dai Ngyuen, did communications work for Ho. Ngyuen delivered messages to and from Ho and sometimes travelled with him. Ho often stayed at their home.

Uncle Thieu and Khun Setthaphan,
Director of TAT New York & Canada

Still it was felt by Uncle Thieu's family that secrecy be maintained because “… the Thai government was not to know about him.”

All work and no play made even Ho a dull boy. In his off time, Ho “…liked to work with villagers growing rice and vegetables. He also caught fish by himself and with others in this village. And he loved to play football. I remember he liked football.”

Uncle Ho Memorabilia

Kids see the world with a clarity unclouded by adult ambitions. Uncle Thieu reflected on his relationship with Ho, stepping back in time to remember a generous and carrying man.

“Once I cut my finger with a knife and Uncle Ho asked his personal doctor to treat me.” But he also remembers that Ho and his travelling companions liked to play football (soccer) with the local villagers. “My job in those days was to retrieve the ball when it went out of bounds.”

Thieu paints a picture of a tall, slender man with pale skin – sans the wispy beard that later became his trademark. This man who was good with kids and had fun with the locals appeared to be plagued by only one vice other than patriotism. He didn't drink and, to the best of Uncle Thieu's memory, had no women companions on his travels, but he was a chain smoker lighting one Chequer (a French brand) after another.