
HANOI JANE SURFACES ABOUT IRAQ
Henry Mark Holzer
April 19, 2006
It is an odd coincidence that the paperback edition of the Holzers’
“Aid and Comfort”: Jane Fonda in North Vietnam has just been
published, and that today’s news is replete with stories that Hanoi
Jane Fonda has surfaced once again, this time to condemn the war in
Iraq. Much of what she’s saying merely echoes the apologia for her
traitorous conduct in North Vietnam—our government lied, our leaders
are incompetent, our soldiers don’t want to be there, ours is the
responsibility for the killing, etc.—that she had the gall to rehash
in her recent autobiography.
It was obvious from what Fonda wrote about that episode in her
autobiography that she felt it necessary to exculpate herself from the
damning indictment of her wartime conduct that Erika Holzer and I proved
in “Aid and Comfort.”
In attempting to do that, Fonda lied, misled, evaded, equivocated,
rationalized, contradicted herself, distorted the facts, and generally
tried to excuse what we proved about her July 1972 sojourn in Communist
North Vietnam.
Because Fonda’s autobiography was destined to become a bestseller and
thus reach thousands upon thousands of readers, and yet again launch her
onto radio and TV talk shows, Erika Holzer and I decided that the
Vietnam portion of her book could not be allowed to go unanswered.
Accordingly, we approached our friend David Horowitz with the offer to
write a thorough rebuttal to everything Fonda said about Vietnam in her
autobiography.
David encouraged us to do it, and when we published the nearly 8,000
word essay that appears below, he had this to say: “Today's article
about Jane Fonda's treason by Henry and Erika Holzer is essential
reading for understanding the mentality of the anti-war left today. Jane
Fonda is a spectacularly shallow human being who mouthed the scripts
provided for her by her radical husband Tom Hayden and the North
Vietnamese Communists. But these are scripts and hers is an allegiance
that is being repeated today in the anti-war movement against the
liberations of Afghanistan and Iraq. Consider that Fonda who embraced
Communism and served as its propaganda tool is a heroine to the left and
to "liberals" as well. Far from being stigmatized by the
popular culture as similar figures like Axis Sally and Tokyo Rose,
"Hanoi Jane" is regarded as such only by conservatives even
though her crimes were identical. Because of her role in enabling the
torturers of American prisoners of war like J! ohn McCain, they may be
regarded as even worse. The Kerry campaign was in part based on the myth
that his own Fonda-like assaults on the American military in Vietnam
were somehow noble and that America's effort to save the South
Vietnamese and the Cambodians from the fate that befell them when
America lost was somehow not. Jane Fonda is widely respected today
despite her treason because the political ideas and the political
movement that led her to betray her country and its ideals have gained
an enormous foothold in America's political culture. This is the reason
her story is so important and why we are giving it such prominence in
Frontpagemag.com .”
To which Erika Holzer and I can only say, "Amen."
Our essay, as it was published at www.frontpagemag.com, appears below.
If you find it of value, please send it on to likeminded people. (I can
be contacted at hank@henrymarkholzer.com. See also
www.henrymarkholzer.com).
* * *
AN AMERICAN TRAITOR: GUILTY AS CHARGED
After thirty years of dodging the question and distorting the issue Jane
Fonda has made her case for exculpating the treason she committed in
Vietnam. The case fails on every count.
By Henry Mark Holzer and Erika Holzer
For three decades Jane Fonda obfuscated, distorted and lied about
virtually everything connected with her wartime trip to North Vietnam:
her motive, her acts, her intent, and her contribution to the
Communists’ war effort. With the aid of clever handlers, she so
successfully suppressed and spun her conduct in Hanoi that many
Americans didn’t know what she had done there, and, more important,
the legal significance.
Three years ago, our book, “Aid and Comfort”: Jane Fonda in North
Vietnam (McFarland & Co.), laid bare the incontrovertible facts,
applied the American law of treason to them —and proved, beyond a
reasonable doubt, that Jane Fonda should have been indicted for (and
would have been convicted of) treason.
With the recent publication of Fonda’s autobiography, My Life So Far
—which, with one minor exception, does not contain a single cited
source to support any claim she makes in her text, or any quotation she
uses—the woman justly dubbed “Hanoi Jane” makes statements and
provides details that inadvertently lend support to every key charge
against her.
Especially noteworthy is that she devotes 50 pages of her nearly 600
page book—which spans about seventy years of her life—to the
two-week trip to Communist North Vietnam that tarnished her public image
forever. One of these chapters is called “Framed” which is a pun
referring to the infamous photograph of her sitting on a North
Vietnamese anti-craft gun and also the characteristically perverse claim
of innocence by a defendant whom that same photograph has caught in the
act. Since her conduct in wartime Vietnam continues to inflame Americans
– vets harassed and even spat on her during her book tour -- and to
dog her heels at every turn, one might have expected her to put some
substance into her account of this period in her life. Instead, the
public is served up with lies that are transparent and omissions
designed to bury the truth.
Motive
In Aid and Comfort we discussed at length the important legal
distinction between “motive” and “intent.” In essence, it’s
the difference between wanting to kill your neighbor because he’s been
sleeping with your wife (motive), and acting in furtherance of that
motive by putting a bullet in his head (intent). In a courtroom it is
the latter that matters. One of the elements of the crime of treason is
an intent to betray the United States. We wanted to make clear that,
whatever motivated Fonda to make the trip to Hanoi, it was her intent in
going there, and in doing what she did there, that would be relevant to
a tribunal determining whether she committed treason or not.
Still, we did wonder why an American citizen would have traveled to the
capital of a ruthless enemy of the United States who was torturing
American prisoners of war and killing our fighting men. Accordingly, we
raised the question and explored some answers:
Why did Jane Fonda travel to Hanoi during her country’s war with North
Vietnam? While no one can know for certain—perhaps not even Fonda
herself, because of the complex psychological drives at work within
her—and while motive (as distinguished from intent) is not a defense
to the crime of treason, still, it is useful to consider why Fonda acted
as she did in Hanoi. That consideration is rooted in an examination of
Fonda’s background, in which much can be found to explain her
radicalization and her later propaganda broadcasts and other
pro-Communist, anti-American conduct. Based on that background, we offer
an opinion: Jane Fonda’s desperate psychological need to overcome
early parental rejection, to acquire a sense of identity and self
esteem, and to fill her empty value system, caused her, first, to become
an antiwar militant, and then to journey to wartime North Vietnam.
How right we were.
In a mere two sentences, on page 290 of her book, Fonda gives her reason
for going to North Vietnam: “Heightened public attention—even if it
took controversy to achieve it—was what was needed to confront the
impending crisis with [threatened American bombing] of the [North
Vietnamese] dikes. I would take a camera and bring back photographic
evidence (if such was to be found) of the bomb damage to the dikes
we’d been hearing about.”
Fonda wants readers to believe that at the time she went to Vietnam
there was no “heightened public attention,” no “controversy”
about bombing the dikes, when of course there was. It was seen in
Washington and opposed on the left as a measure to stop the North
Vietnamese aggression and end the war. But Fonda wants readers to
believe that no one else in the international antiwar, anti-American,
pro-Communist movement was “confront[ing] the impending crisis” and
that the North Vietnamese were not conducting a ferocious propaganda
campaign to prevent destruction of their dikes. It was up to her, Jane
Fonda, an actress with a “small 8-millimenter film camera” and a
“still camera” to in her autobiography’s oft-repeated mantra,
“make it better.”
That Fonda would dream up by herself such a heroic, history altering
project is in fact belied by the self-portrait she paints in the
preceding 289 pages in which she repeatedly confesses that she “would
become whatever I felt the people whose love and attention I needed
wanted me to be”; that she had “a lifelong feeling of not being good
enough”; that she believed herself to be “weak and worthless;”
that “it was always men I was concerned about pleasing.”
The man she was intent upon pleasing then – who actually sent her to
North Vietnam -- was antiwar activist, pro-Vietnamese Communist and
self-styled anti-American “revolutionary” Tom Hayden. Hayden had
previously traveled to Bratislava, Czechoslovakia with an SDS delegation
to meet with the Vietnamese Communists and counsel them on how to
conduct psychological warfare against the United States.
“Tom felt strongly that I should go,” she writes. “Perhaps it
would take a different sort of celebrity to get people’s attention.”
(In other words, as a political activist, Hayden didn’t have celebrity
enough.)
So actress Jane Fonda, encouraged by her pro-Communist husband-to-be,
and wearing the proud mantle of a “different sort of celebrity,”
journeyed to the Communist capitol – the capitol of the aggression
against South Vietnam – to provide its regime with propaganda support
for its war. This was precisely the support that our American prisoners
of war refused to give their Communist captors even at the price of
physical and mental torture and, in some cases, death.
Propaganda
Propaganda was an integral part of the psychological warfare strategy of
the North Vietnamese Communists. They used it to rally their own
citizens. They used it to undermine successive governments in the South,
to strengthen Hanoi’s ties to China, to the Soviet Union, and to other
communist regimes. They used it to shake morale in American and allied
forces and to enlist sympathy and aid from non-Communist countries
around the world. Most importantly, they used it to undermine the will
of the American people to carry on the war, which they knew was the key
to their victory since they could not match America’s military
strength. As we wrote in Aid and Comfort: “[D]espite the ‘public
relations’ risk of torturing American prisoners of war, the North
Vietnamese chanced it because of the high value they placed on
propaganda.” (More about Hanoi’s torture of American prisoners of
war below).
In the fifty or so pages Fonda devotes to her trip to Hanoi, the only
time Fonda even alludes to the possibility that the Communists might be
using her for propaganda, is when she claims that on arriving there, it
occurred to her to “wonder whether this is a group of seasoned cadres
whose job it is to manipulate me.”
She didn’t wonder long. Fonda was in fact a willing accomplice to such
manipulation. She would participate in multiple photo-ops, press
conferences, official meetings, guided tours and radio broadcasts. She
would work from scripts that were provided for her. And in the end she
would satisfy the Communist propagandists beyond their wildest dreams.
Of all her disreputable achievements in these two weeks, it was her
Radio Hanoi broadcasts and her meeting with seven American POWs that
most profited the North Vietnamese regime. Fonda made about eight
broadcasts, some live, some taped. She would have us believe that not
until several days after her arrival in Hanoi—and then only as a
result of what she had seen on the ground—did the idea of radio
broadcasts arise. She claims the broadcasts were solely her idea:
As we step from the Viet Duc hospital into the sunlight, I have made up
my mind. “I want to speak on your radio,” I say to my hosts. “I
want to try to tell U.S. pilots what I am seeing here on the ground.”
* * * I must try to make what I am seeing as personal an experience for
them as it is for the soldiers on the ground in South Vietnam. I have
come to bear witness, and while I have not planned this, I feel it as a
moral imperative.
Lies and Omissions
Of her broadcasts over Radio Hanoi, Fonda writes in her autobiography,
“Aside from a few notes I have scribbled to myself, I speak
extemporaneously, from my heart, about what I have witnessed and how it
made me feel.”
This claim, as we showed in Aid and Comfort, is ludicrous: “Consider
some of the statements made by this young actress who lacked political
sophistication, who was ignorant of history, who had an almost
non-existent knowledge of international affairs, and who probably had
never before written anything more complicated than a check:
“neocolonialism,” the 1954 Geneva Accords, what constituted a
military target, different types of aircraft and ordnance . . . and
more. It is obvious that in Hanoi, Jane Fonda was acting as a willing
tool of the Communists, to a considerable extent simply reading
“canned” material created by professional Communist propagandists
(albeit with perhaps an occasional ad-lib). Indeed, some of the words
and syntax are those of a person or persons for whom English was not a
first language, and it is doubtful that the political language came from
Fonda herself.
Fonda also lies about why she made the propaganda broadcasts. She
writes: “I want to speak on your radio, I say to my hosts. I want to
tell U.S. pilots what I am seeing here on the ground.”
If, as she claims in her autobiography, the purpose of her broadcasts
was to apprise pilots and ground troops of what our bombing was doing to
the North, why did she broadcast the following statements (among others
like them)?
• The Vietnamese people were peasants—leading a peaceful, bucolic
life before the Americans came to destroy Vietnam.
• The Vietnamese seek only “freedom and independence”—which the
United States wants to prevent them from having.
• The Vietnamese fighters are her “friends.”
• The million infantry troops which the United States put into
Vietnam, and the Vietnamization program, have failed.
• The United States seeks to turn Vietnam into a “neocolony.”
• Patrick Henry’s slogan “liberty or death” was not very
different from Ho Chi Minh’s “Nothing is more valuable than
independence and freedom.”
• Nixon violated the 1954 Geneva Accords.
• Vietnam is “one nation, one country.”
• The Communists’ proposal for ending the war is “fair, sensible,
reasonable and humanitarian.”
• The United States must get out of South Vietnam and “cease its
support for the . . . Thieu regime.”
• “I want to publicly accuse Nixon here of being a new-type Hitler
whose crimes are being unveiled.”
• “The Vietnamese people will win.”
• Nixon “defiles our flag and all that it stands for in the eyes of
the entire world.”
• “Knowing who was doing the lying, should you then allow these same
people and some liars to define for you who your enemy is?”
• American troops are fighting for ESSO, Shell and Coca-Cola.
• “Should we be fighting on the side of the people who are, who are
murdering innocent people, should we be trying to defend a government in
Saigon which is putting in jail tens of thousands of people into the
tiger cages, beating them, torturing them . . . . And I don’t think .
. . that we should be risking our lives or fighting to defend that kind
of government.”
• “We . . . have a common enemy—U. S. imperialism.”
• “We thank you [the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese] for your brave
and heroic fight.”
• “Nixon’s aggression against Vietnam is a racist aggression [and]
the American war in Vietnam is a racist war, a white man’s war.”
• Soldiers of the South Vietnamese army “are being sent to fight a
war that is not in your interests but is in the interests of the small
handful of people who have gotten rich and hope to get richer off this
war and the turning of your country into a neocolony of the United
States.”
• “The only way to end the war is for the United States to withdraw
all its troops, all its airplanes, its bombs, its generals, its CIA
advisors and to stop the support of the . . . regime in Saigon . . .
.”
• “There is only one way to stop Richard Nixon from committing mass
genocide in the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, and that is for a mass
protest . . . to expose his crimes . . . .”
• “In 1969—1970 the desertions in the American army tripled. The
desertions of the U.S. soldiers almost equaled the desertions from the
ARVN army . . . .”
• “Perhaps the soldiers . . . who have suffered the most . . . [are]
the black soldiers, the brown soldiers, and the red and Asian
soldiers.”
• Recently I talked to “a great many of these guys and they all
expressed their recognition of the fact that this is a white man’s
war, a white businessman’s war, that they don’t feel it’s their
place to kill other people of color when at home they themselves are
oppressed and prevented from determining their own lives.”
• “I heard horrifying stories about the treatment of women in the
U.S. military. So many women said to me that one of the first things
that happens to them when they enter the service is that they are taken
to see the company psychiatrist and they are given a little lecture
which is made very clear to them that they are there to service the
men.”
Whoever scripted this blatant anti-American, pro-Communist propaganda,
one thing is certain: it had nothing to do with apprising pilots and
ground troops of the consequences of American bombing in North Vietnam.
Fonda’s transparently crude attempts to provide the Communists with a
famous American voice to mouth their propaganda and undermine our war
efforts in Vietnam could have had only one purpose: to provide aid and
comfort to our enemy.
Doubtless because the accusation has dogged her for over three decades
(we made the same charge in Aid and Comfort), Fonda found it necessary
to disabuse her readers by tossing in a single throwaway sentence:
“[S]ome will later accuse me of treason for urging soldiers to
desert—something I do not do.”
Here is Fonda speaking live over Radio Hanoi, and on tape, virtually
inviting South Vietnamese soldiers (and, by implication, American
troops) to desert:
We read with interest about the growing numbers of you [South Vietnam
Army troops] who are understanding the truth and joining with your
fellow countrymen to fight for freedom and independence and democracy
[i.e., with the Communists]. We note with interest, for example, that as
in the case of the 56th Regiment of the 3d Division of the Saigon Army,
ARVN soldiers are taken into the ranks of the National Liberation Front
[the Viet Cong], including officers who may retain their rank. We think
that this is an example of the fact that the democratic, peace-loving,
patriotic Vietnamese people want to embrace all Vietnamese people in
forgiveness, open their arms to all people who are willing to fight
against the foreign intruder. [Emphasis ours]
How can the Communists “embrace” and “open their arms” to South
Vietnamese and American troops unless they desert?
As to encouraging “mutiny”—a word never mentioned, a subject not
even addressed, in Fonda’s autobiography—Fonda’s Radio Hanoi
broadcasts, unlike her veiled nuances devoted to desertion, are not so
subtle: “[Although] we do not condone the killing of American officers
. . . we do support the soldiers who are beginning to think for
themselves.”
Which soldiers were those? Beginning to think about what? The
juxtaposition of these two thoughts—killing officers and thinking for
themselves—can have no meaning other than applauding, even
encouraging, the “fragging” (murder by hand grenade) of officers by
enlisted men.
Fonda is insistent in her autobiography about having gone to wartime
North Vietnam only because she wanted to help stop the killing and end
the war: “I…wanted to…stop the killing.”
Another lie. Worse than a lie—a perverse irony. By providing the North
Vietnamese Communists with an abundance of timely anti-American,
pro-Communist propaganda, Fonda’s trip and the activities of her
comrades in the anti-war movement who were also inspired by her
betrayals actually lengthened the war and, concomitantly, increased the
deaths and casualties on both sides.
Fonda, herself, along with Hayden and their followers, have for years
taken credit for restraining the Nixon Administration from destroying
the dikes—an action which, by all accounts, would have shortened the
war and perhaps even ended it, reducing at least one year’s
casualties.
That Fonda’s propaganda efforts played an important role in prolonging
the war and increasing the death toll is attested to by North Vietnamese
Colonel Bui Tin. In a postwar interview with The Wall Street Journal
reproduced at length in “Aid and Comfort, ” the Colonel, a dedicated
Communist cadre for most of his life, confidant of Ho Chi Minh and the
architect of the “Ho Chi Minh Trail” along which the North
Vietnamese conducted their aggression against the South, and also one of
the first officers of their army to enter Saigon on the day it fell, had
this to say:
Wall Street Journal: Was the American antiwar movement important to
Hanoi’s victory?
Bui Tin: It was essential to our strategy. Support for the war from our
rear [China] was completely secure while the American rear was
vulnerable. Every day our leadership would listen to world news over the
radio at 9 a.m. to follow the growth of the American antiwar movement.
Visits to Hanoi by people like Jane Fonda . . . gave us confidence that
we should hold on in the face of battlefield reverses. (Emphasis ours.)
The identical point was made by North Vietnamese Defense Minister
General Vo Nguyen Giap, the architect of France’s defeat at Dien Bien
Phu. This was the man most responsible for the Communists’ military
strategy in their war with the United States.
Stop the killing? End the war? Jane Fonda’s treason unquestionably
prolonged both. What she “ended” were the lives of many Americans,
and many more Vietnamese for whom she claimed to have such sympathy.
Most chilling of all, perhaps, is that the consequences of Fonda’s
actions did not begin and end with Vietnam. In facilitating a Communist
victory in Vietnam, Jane Fonda, self-described woman of conscience,
contributed to the genocidal bloodbath that would soon follow in
Cambodia.
POWS: “Healthy and Repentant”
In writing Aid and Comfort, and now this rebuttal to the Vietnam section
of Fonda’s autobiography, we have often attempted—without
success—to rank her treasonous acts from bad to worse; everything she
did in Hanoi, and immediately thereafter, was reprehensible.
But among the worst lies she told while in North Vietnam concerned her
deliberate exploitation of American prisoners of war and the aid she
gave to those who tortured them by providing them a cover of denial for
their crimes.
It is no surprise that in her autobiography (which doesn’t contain a
single index reference to “prisoner of war” or “POW”), Fonda
devotes little more than one page to her widely publicized meeting with
seven American POWs and her claims that they were not tortured. And,
worse, that they were sorry for serving their country.
Here is the essence of what Fonda has written in her autobiography,
tracking what she said in a Radio Hanoi broadcast:
• “The POWs appear to be healthy and fit.”
• “All of them have called publicly for an end to the war and signed
a powerful antiwar letter . . . . “
• “A few of them tell me they, too, are against the war and want
Nixon to be defeated in the upcoming elections. They express their fear
that if he is reelected, the war will go on and on . . . and that bombs
might land on their prison.”
>
• “I am asked to convey their hopes that their families will vote
for George McGovern.”
• “I ask them if they feel they have been brainwashed or tortured,
and they laugh.”
Evidently she didn’t ask John McCain or any of the many many American
POWS who were tortured in contravention of the Geneva codes. Or, she did
ask them and fearing more torture if they told her the truth and
possibly death, they lied to her. In fact, this meeting and her
anti-American propaganda following it was so palpably a charade that
even Fonda, after noting the presence of at least one guard,
“realize[d] that the men could have been lying to protect themselves,
but I certainly see no signs in any of the seven that they have been
tortured, at least not recently.” (Emphasis ours.)
Here is what really happened that day in Hanoi, as related in Aid and
Comfort [our footnotes appear in brackets]:
“At least three POWs were unwillingly made to meet with Fonda. One
prisoner didn’t even know where he was being taken:
I was informed . . . to get ready to leave. We were put on a bus,
blindfolded and driven away. Others were loaded on the bus at another
stop and the bus left again. We were unloaded, lined up and had the
blindfolds removed. We were then taken into a room and seated. The next
thing that occurred was the appearance of Hanoi Jane and she began to
speak. [Email in possession of authors]
Fonda . . . was doing a script, at one point she got lost in what she
was saying, went back and used exactly the same words again for about
two sentences to get back on track. I never got a chance (nor did I want
to) say anything, it was a listen and be on display thing . . . anything
else would have brought on problems. [“Problems” was a euphemism.
Lack of cooperation at this show interview would have resulted in more
torture. The source of the former POW’s quotation is an email in
possession of authors] [Emphasis in original]
What was Fonda’s “script”—conveniently omitted in her nearly
600-page autobiography? While pointing at a chart,
. . . Jane Fonda’s theme was that we [the United States] were
committing genocide on the Vietnamese people. She also asserted that we
were bombing the dikes which was against the rules of war. [Email (from
one of the POWs) in possession of authors]
Fonda was quick to lie about her meeting with the POWs, even as she
continued to parrot the North Vietnamese propaganda lines being fed to
her:
This is Jane Fonda speaking from Hanoi. Yesterday evening . . . I had
the opportunity of meeting seven U.S. pilots. Some of them were shot
down as long ago as 1968 and some of them had been shot down very
recently. They are all in good health. We had a very long talk, a very
open and casual talk. We exchanged ideas freely. They asked me to bring
back to the American people their sense of disgust of the war and their
shame for what they have been asked to do.
They told me that the pilots believe they are bombing military targets.
They told me that the pilots are told that they are bombing to free
their buddies down below, but, of course, we all know that every bomb
that falls on North Vietnam endangers the lives of the American
prisoners.
They asked me: What can you do? They asked me to bring messages back to
their loved ones and friends, telling them to please be as actively
involved in the peace movement as possible, to renew their efforts to
end the war.
One of the men who has been in the service for many, many years has
written a book about Vietnamese history, and I thought that this was
very moving, that during the time he’s been here, and the time that he
has had to reflect on what he has been through and what he has done to
this country, he has—his thought has turned to this country, its
history of struggle and the people that live here.
They all assured me that they have been well cared for. They—they
listen to the radio. They receive letters. They are in good health. They
asked about news from home.
I think we all shared during the time I spent with them a sense of—of
deep sadness that a situation like this has to exist, and I certainly
felt from them a very sincere desire to explain to the American people
that this was is a terrible crime and that it must be stopped, and that
Richard Nixon is doing nothing except escalating it while preaching
peace, endangering their lives while saying he cares about the
prisoners.
And I think that one of the things that touched me the most was that one
of the pilots said to me that he was reading a book called The Draft, a
book written by the American Friends Service Committee [Quakers], and
that in reading this book, he had understood a lot about what had
happened to him as a human being in his 16 years of military service. He
said that during those 16 years, he had stopped relating to civilian
life, he had forgotten that there was anything else besides the military
and he said in realizing what had happened to him, he was very afraid
that this was happening to many other people.
I was very encouraged by my meeting with the pilots [because] I feel
that the studying and the reading that they have been doing during their
time here has taught them a great deal in putting the pieces of their
lives back together again in a better way, hopefully, and I am sure that
when—when they go home, they will go home better citizens than when
they left. [Hearing Report, 7670]
Back in the United States, Fonda telephoned the wife of one of the POWs:
She [Fonda] called me after that meeting to let me know [my husband] was
fine. I said I just didn’t see how he could be fine held in prison,
kept from his country, his home and his family. She hung up on me.
[Email in possession of authors]
Fonda’s live broadcast from Hanoi, directed at American troops (both
free and captive) throughout Vietnam, was replete with blatant
falsehoods.
• The prisoners were not “all in good health” or “well cared
for.” By Fonda’s own admission, one of them had been in captivity
since 1967, when torture was routine.
• Nor did Fonda have “a very long talk” with the POWs. Again, by
her own admission, her diatribe took “twenty minutes or so.” “It
was a listen and display thing,” one of the POWs reported later.
• The meeting was not “very open and casual,” and she and the POWs
did not “exchange ideas freely”—because, by her own admission, at
least one guard was present at all times.
• Each POW did not make antiwar statements and did not attack his
Commander-in-Chief (although two may have).
Small wonder that Fonda’s autobiography conveniently skips lightly
over her meeting with the seven American POWs, the better to perpetrate
lies she had told three decades ago. Far from regretting her deeds of
thirty years ago, she in effect repeats them in her book.
Having spent all of a week in Hanoi being chaperoned by Communist
functionaries and being shown only what they wanted her to see, after
having engaged in a twenty-minute charade in the company of seven
American prisoners of war and at least one guard, suddenly Jane Fonda is
an expert on torture! While this meeting, and Fonda’s absurd statement
above, was post-1969, when admittedly much of the torture had abated,
American prisoners of war were even then being maltreated, not to
mention being denied virtually every protection of the Geneva Convention
that Fonda was so fond of invoking on behalf of the enemy.
Chapter Three of Aid and Comfort spells out the documented maltreatment
and brutal torture of our American POWs. Words like “inhumane” and
“barbaric” are inadequate to describe what these men endured without
surcease—some of them for five or six years. As we were writing that
chapter, which details everything from disease, lack of sanitation,
near-starvation and withholding of medical treatment to diabolical
torture devices whose primary purpose was to extract propaganda, we had
to take periodic breaks—such was our emotional turmoil.
Here is one POW’s matter-of-fact description:
The techniques varied from the use of the ropes to cuffs of a rachet
type that could be tightened until they penetrated the flesh, sometimes
down to the bone; aggravation of injuries . . . such as twisting a
broken leg; forcing a man to sit or kneel for long periods of time
without food or sleep; beatings with fanbelt-like whips and rifle butts
. . . [applying] an assortment of straps, bars, and chains to body
pressure points . . . .
But Jane Fonda didn’t confine herself to skepticism about our POWs
having been tortured. When the POWS were finally released and allowed to
come home as part of the truce agreement that removed American troops
from Vietnam, instead of celebrating their release as any normal
American or decent person would, Fonda went on the attack. As we wrote
in Aid and Comfort, she denounced them as “liars, hypocrites and
pawns,” adjectives better suited to herself:
[W]hen the last accounted-for American POW was out of Vietnam,
officially April 1, 1973, stories of the brutal treatment to which they
had been subjected began to surface. True to form, Fonda castigated
them. Hanoi Jane called these Americans—who had suffered
indescribably, and walked into freedom with their heads held high and
their wounds, psychological and physical, mostly hidden from public
view—“liars, hypocrites, and pawns.” She was livid at the charge
that these men had been tortured: “Tortured men do not march smartly
off planes, salute the flag, and kiss their wives. They are liars. I
also want to say that these men are not heroes.” One of the first
contingent of POWs said that, indeed, he had not only been tortured, but
that the Vietnamese had tortured him—broken his arm—for the specific
purpose of forcing him to see her during her visit to North Vietnam.
Jane’s response was a shrug: “Nobody’s perfect, not even the
Vietnamese.” [Peter Collier, National Revi! ew, July 17, 2000. This
POW’s statement has not been corroborated]. [Emphasis ours]
Fonda’s impugning of POW torture stories persisted: “At home, there
were some Americans who refused to believe that POWs were tortured.
Others believe that their torture was somehow justified. In 1973,
shortly after the American POWs were repatriated, antiwar activist Jane
Fonda, after hearing reports, of Americans tortured in the camps in
North and South Vietnam, commented to Newsweek reporters: ‘There was
most probably torture of POW’s [sic] guys who misbehaved and treated
their guards in a racist fashion or tried to escape were tortured. Some
[U.S.] pilots were beaten to death by the people they had bombed when
they parachuted from their planes. But to say that torture was
systematic and the policy of the North Vietnamese is a lie.’”
[Robert C. Doyle, Voices From Captivity, 192, citing Newsweek, April 16,
1973, 51. See also “Jane Fonda and Tom Hayden— Candid Conversation,
“Playboy (April 1974): 67].
In the face of the irrefutable evidence that Fonda callously lied about
the suffering of America’s POWs, here is the spin she puts on it in
her autobiography:
I made a mistake I deeply regret. I said that the POWs claiming torture
were liars, hypocrites, and pawns. I said, “I’m quite sure that
there were incidents of torture . . . . But the pilots who are saying it
was the policy of the Vietnamese and that it was systematic, I believe
that is a lie.” I firmly believe that the POWs I met with had not been
tortured. But what I didn’t know at the time was that prior to 1969
there had in fact been systematic torture of POWs.
Like Casablanca’s Captain Renault—a regular “winner” at the
roulette table, who was “shocked, shocked” to learn that illegal
gambling had been going on at Rick’s Café—Jane Fonda, well-informed
antiwar activist, a vocal and dedicated part of the pipeline which
channeled domestic Communists and fellow travelers in and out of North
Vietnam, supposedly hadn’t the faintest notion, even as late as 1972,
that her comrades in Hanoi systematically tortured—as a matter of
policy—American prisoners of war. This was not a mistake. It was an
act of aggression against American heroes who had been subjected to
horrible tortures and against America itself.
The Photograph
Nothing is more emblematic of Jane Fonda’s trip to Hanoi—nothing has
caused her to be more justly scorned—than the photographs (there are
several, taken moments apart) of a blissful Fonda sitting atop a 37 mm
North Vietnamese antiaircraft gun surrounded by reporters and a gun
crew. In the version we used on the cover of “Aid and Comfort,”
Fonda is looking through the gun sight at an imaginary American plane,
her face ecstatic, her hands folded almost in prayer. If there was
anything about her trip to Hanoi that Fonda needed to lie about, it is
this photo op.
So she does: According to her memoir, she arrived at Hanoi’s airport.
Her hosts briefly went over the itinerary for her visit. “I noticed
that the trip to an antiaircraft installation is still on the agenda for
the last day, despite my message [a “pretrip letter”] from Los
Angeles saying I was not interested in military installations. I tell
them that I don’t want to keep that visit on the agenda.”
Does such a letter even exist? No evidence in her autobiography is
provided to support its existence. In fact, when her itinerary was
published in a Congressional Hearing Report [which we reprinted in full
in Aid and Comfort], there was no entry that scheduled a visit to any
antiaircraft installation. A reasonable person would conclude that she
made up the entire story of her “pretrip” demurral, along with so
much else.
And even though she claims to have noticed the itinerary item
practically from the moment her feet touched the ground, Fonda
acquiesced in the AAA visit because, as she writes, “Altering the
plans [not scheduled for another two weeks!] appears to cause
consternation. Decisions have been made. I am too tired to protest.”
Still, she decides, “I am going.” Lots of Americans, she writes, are
taken to military installations; lots of them have to wear helmets. And
since such Americans were anti-Americans who believed their country was
the “imperialist aggressor” in Vietnam, lots of them had beatific
expressions on their face when they sat in gun turrets designed to kill
their own countrymen.
As she arrives at an antiaircraft gun installation on the outskirts of
Hanoi and sees a weapon used to shoot down American aircraft, Fonda
purports to be surprised at “a horde of photographers and
journalists.” (Sure, a Hollywood star is surprised to see cameras at a
showpiece event that has been set up for her!) The Communist soldiers
sing. Fonda’s translator translates: “All men are created equal.
They are given certain rights; among these are life, liberty and
happiness.” (We are not making this up.) Fonda is so moved by this
musical version of our Declaration of Independence that “I begin to
cry and clap. These young men should not be our enemy. They celebrate
the same words Americans do.” [Emphasis is Fonda’s]
One good performance deserves another. The AAA gunners ask Fonda to
reciprocate with a song of her own. Somehow Fonda has managed to
anticipate this request before leaving the United States. She has
memorized in Vietnamese a song written by South Vietnamese and antiwar
activists -- i.e., supporters of the Communist propaganda offensive.
“Everyone laughs and claps, including me,” she writes.
The performance is over. “Someone, I don’t remember who, leads me
toward the gun, and I sit down, still applauding. It all has nothing to
do with where I am sitting. I hardly even think about where I am
sitting.” Give us a break.
These three sentences are the only explanation in some 600 pages of
Fonda’s autobiography of why she provided the North Vietnamese
Communists with a propaganda picture worth, not the proverbial thousand
words, but rather thousands of American and Vietnamese lives.
As Fonda walks away, we are asked to believe that the implications of
her conduct suddenly dawned on her. She writes, “Oh my God. It’s
going to look like I was trying to shoot down America planes.”
[Emphasis Fonda’s] Not really, Jane. It looks just like you thought
that shooting down American planes was a fantastic idea, which is
evident from everything else you did and said in Vietnam and in respect
to the war before and after.
She claims, preposterously, in her autobiography that she pleaded with
her translator to make sure her hosts saw to it that the potentially
embarrassing photographs were not published. If this is true, how come
she didn’t protest the pictures when they were published? How come it
took her twenty years to “apologize” for embarrassing herself (which
was the extent of her apology)? This self-serving assertion is of course
belied by the fact that she went to the gun emplacement installation in
the first place and allowed herself to be photographed – for what
purpose? Home entertainment?
Thirty-three years later comes this grudging (and embarrassing and not
credible) admission: “It is possible that the Vietnamese had it all
planned.” [Emphasis ours] But, she continues, “can I really blame
them?” And besides, Fonda adds as an afterthought: “the gun was
inactive, there were no planes overhead.” In what reality is this
woman living?
Regrets
In recent months, while promoting her autobiography across the United
States, Fonda has purported to apologize for some of her conduct in
North Vietnam. But her words have always been equivocal and
ambiguous—a technique she established many years ago and honed to a
fine art ever since.
As we wrote in Aid and Comfort, What makes Fonda’s regret ring so
hollow and self-serving are her revealing words in a 1989 interview, in
which she stated categorically: “I did not, have not, and will not say
that going to North Vietnam was a mistake . . . . I have apologized only
for some of the things that I did there, but I am proud that I went.”
Proud that she went to give aid and comfort to a ruthless totalitarian
enemy that launched an aggressive war that killed more than 2 million
people and saddled South Vietnam with a Communist police state that has
lasted for more than thirty years.
Jane Fonda is 68 years old. When she started writing her autobiography,
she had an opportunity to take genuine stock of her life and set the
record straight once and for all. Here was a chance to prove that she
really was sorry for what she had done. That she understood the meaning
of the words “apology” and “making amends” and how her actions
really did have serious consequences. That regrets, if sincere, require
action, not just lip service.
Not only did Fonda lack the integrity and strength of character to seize
the opportunity, but she was contemptuous at the mere suggestion that
she had much to apologize for. How can one take seriously anything this
woman says about an apology when, on page one of the North Vietnam
section of her autobiography, she writes: “My only regret about the
trip was that I was photographed sitting on a North Vietnamese
antiaircraft gun sight”?
Conclusion
Aid and Comfort”: Jane Fonda In North Vietnam was a time-consuming
book to write. It required thoroughly researched facts, complex legal
and constitutional analysis, hundreds of supporting and elaborating
footnotes, and an appendix setting forth every one of Fonda’s
broadcasts. We have often been asked why, given other writing projects
and more pressing interests, we chose to do it.
Our answer is threefold.
First, Fonda was the most prominent American citizen to give the North
Vietnamese invaluable antiwar, anti-United States, pro-Communist
propaganda, which cost many American lives. She is a symbol of the
willingness of members of the American left to oppose their country in
war and give aid and comfort to the enemy camp – even when that enemy
is a ruthless totalitarian aggressor. Because she got away with it, it
was all the more important that we set the historical record straight by
proving that she was indictable and convictable for treason.
Second, we felt strongly that a moral reckoning for Fonda’s conduct in
Hanoi was long overdue, one that we hope will follow her to her
grave—as it should.
Third, we believed then—we continue to believe—that what we think of
as “Fonda-ism” must be fought whenever it appears. Webster’s New
World Dictionary of the American Language defines “ism” as “a
doctrine, theory, system, etc.” By “Fonda-ism,” we mean the belief
that American citizens can with impunity interfere with their
country’s foreign policy by making common cause with enemies bent on
its destruction.
By herself, Jane Fonda is unimportant—confused, defensive,
narcissistic, empty—a woman who admits in her autobiography that
“Maybe I simply become whatever the man I am with wants me to be:
‘sex kitten’ [Roger Vadim], ‘controversial activist’ [Tom
Hayden], ‘ladylike wife on the arm of corporate mogul’ [Ted
Turner].”
But Fonda-ism is important because Americans who give aid and comfort to
our enemies – Communists then, jihadists now -- put at risk, not only
our cherished institutions, but—in today’s world—our very
existence.
* * *
______________________
Henry Mark Holzer (www.henrymarkholzer.com) is Professor Emeritus at
Brooklyn Law School. Erika Holzer (www.erikaholzer.com) is a lawyer
turned novelist. |