The Vietnam War (1954-75) pitted North Vietnam, controlled by Communists, against South Vietnam, led by a pro-Western, democratic government (see timeline, below). Ho Chi Minh, the North Vietnamese leader whose forces ended French colonial rule in 1954, envisioned a unified Communist Vietnam. Fearing that Communist regimes would take control of Asia, the United States sent combat troops to Vietnam beginning in 1965, and became mired in the conflict. By the time it ended, the war had taken the lives of at least one million Vietnamese and 58,000 American troops.

A half-century after the conflict ended, Vietnam has moved from war to peace, from rural to increasingly urban, from poor to roughly middle-class, and from hard-line Communist to a complex hybrid of free markets and state control. As in China, which has a similar model, that means more economic freedoms but few personal ones for citizens.

Major multinational companies (Nike, Samsung, Apple, and others) have nevertheless made Vietnam a manufacturing hub. The country, which opened up its economy in the late 1980s, has been pushing toward higher-tech manufacturing and income levels closer to those of richer nations in Asia.

During the Vietnam War (1954-75) Communist controlled North Vietnam
fought against South Vietnam, led by a pro-Western, democratic government (see timeline, below). Ho Chi Minh, the North Vietnamese leader whose forces ended French colonial rule in 1954, imagined a unified Communist Vietnam. Fearing that Communist regimes would take control of Asia, the United States sent combat troops to Vietnam beginning in 1965. The U.S. became stuck in the long conflict. By the time it ended, the war had taken the lives of at least 1 million Vietnamese and 58,000 American troops.

Fifty years after the conflict ended, Vietnam has moved from war to peace. The country has shifted from rural to increasingly urban, from poor to roughly middle class, and from hard-line Communist to a complex hybrid of free markets and state control. As in China, which has a similar model, that means more economic freedoms but few personal ones for citizens.

Major multinational companies (Nike, Samsung, Apple, and others) have nevertheless made Vietnam a manufacturing hub. The country opened up its economy in the late 1980s. There has been a push toward higher-tech manufacturing and income levels closer to those of richer nations in Asia.

But the Vietnam model—mixing youthful workers, massive factories, and open markets for its exports—now faces a more hostile world. The United States, the biggest buyer of Vietnam’s exports, imposed 20 percent tariffs on Vietnam in August. Experts predict the levies will slow Vietnam’s economic growth. And the disruption comes at a terrible time: In the next decade, Vietnam’s population will age rapidly. It will mean there are fewer younger workers like the ones who’ve fueled the economy in recent years.

But the Vietnam model—mixing youthful workers, massive factories, and open markets for its exports—now faces a more challenging world. The biggest buyer of Vietnam’s exports, the United States, imposed 20 percent tariffs on Vietnam in August. Experts predict the levies will slow Vietnam’s economic growth. And the disruption comes at a terrible time. Over the next 10 years, Vietnam’s population will age rapidly. It will mean there are fewer younger workers like the ones who’ve fueled the economy in recent years.

And yet, for this resilient nation, hope is always just up the road. Vietnam regularly tops rankings of the most optimistic countries, and according to many Vietnamese, it’s for good reason. As recently as the 1990s, most were poor. Now less than 4 percent of the population lives below what the World Bank considers the national poverty line, earning less than $3.65 a day. Per capita annual income has jumped more than sixfold, to roughly $4,500, since 2000. And many seem eager to join the world’s social media stream, posting on fashion, food, or hip-hop.

Nothing defines Vietnam more right now than the desire to be seen anew, to have the nation and its people recognized for their strengths. This drive for achievement is especially visible in the nation’s classrooms, where students strive toward the goal of studying abroad. Many pull it off. In 2000, Vietnam sent about 1,300 students to further their education in the U.S.; last year, American universities welcomed 22,000. Another 37,000 or so Vietnamese students studied in Australia.

And yet, for this resilient nation, hope is always just up the road. Vietnam regularly tops rankings of the most optimistic countries. According to many Vietnamese, it’s for good reason. As recently as the 1990s, most were poor. Now less than 4 percent of the population lives below what the World Bank considers the national poverty line, earnings of less than $3.65 a day. Since 2000 per capita annual income has jumped more than sixfold, to roughly $4,500. And many seem eager to join the world’s social media stream, posting on fashion, food, or hip-hop.

Nothing defines Vietnam more right now than the desire to be seen anew, to have the nation and its people recognized for their strengths. This drive for achievement is especially visible in the nation’s classrooms. Many students work toward their goal of studying abroad. Many pull it off. In 2000, Vietnam sent about 1,300 students to further their education in the U.S. Last year, American universities welcomed 22,000 Vietnamese students. Another 37,000 or so studied in Australia.

“Vietnam can get along with all the other developed nations,” says Le Tra My, 39, the vice principal of a Ho Chi Minh City secondary school and a mother of three. “We want to show them the capabilities of the Vietnamese people.”

Globalization and a free-market approach have lifted Vietnam to new heights. But there are pitfalls too. Complaints about inequality, development, and environmental dangers are increasing.

In Vietnam’s big cities, smog has reached crisis levels. Coal generates more than half of the country’s electricity during peak demand. When farmers were given more freedom to sell their crops to private companies, instead of to the state at a fixed price, they turned to using large quantities of chemical fertilizers and pesticides to increase their output. Especially for the Mekong Delta in southern Vietnam, all of this has combined with climate change to threaten one of the planet’s most productive regions for food and fishing.

Le Hoang Phuc, 25, grew up on a family farm deep in the south. As a boy, he could cup his hands in shimmering water of nearby streams and watch fish squirm through his fingertips.

“Today we have more trash than fish,” he says.

Sitting near hives of bees making honey on a recent afternoon, he says that his legs burned from chemicals when he stood in the dirty water. In TikTok and YouTube videos, Phuc has filmed himself explaining the value of cleaner alternatives—like the organic farming that his family has adopted.

“Vietnam can get along with all the other developed nations,” says Le Tra My, 39, the vice principal of a Ho Chi Minh City secondary school and a mother of three. “We want to show them the capabilities of the Vietnamese people.”

Globalization and a free-market approach have lifted Vietnam to new heights. But there are dangers too. There have been increasing complaints about inequality, development, and environmental dangers.

Coal generates more than half of the country’s electricity during peak demand. This has caused crisis levels of smog in Vietnam’s big cities. Farmers now have more freedom to sell their crops to private companies. The loss of the government’s fixed pricing means the farmers have turned to large quantities of chemical fertilizers and pesticides to increase their output. This, along with climate change, has threatened the Mekong Delta in southern Vietnam, one of the planet’s most productive regions for food and fishing.

Le Hoang Phuc, 25, grew up on a family farm deep in the south. As a boy, he could cup his hands in shimmering water of nearby streams and watch fish swim through his fingertips.

“Today we have more trash than fish,” he says.

He says that his legs burned from chemicals when he stood in the dirty water near beehives. In TikTok and YouTube videos, Phuc has filmed himself explaining the value of cleaner alternatives—like the organic farming that his family has adopted.

Many young Vietnamese feel optimistic but occasionally unmoored. They’re reaching not just for social media but also for communities of faith and culture, reviving traditional religions and rituals.

Weekend retreats at the Giac Ngo Pagoda in Ho Chi Minh City attract scores of young professionals, who chant together under the gaze of golden Buddhas. Catholic seminaries and convents across Vietnam have also expanded in recent years, increasing the number of young priests and nuns. As young men and women embrace faith—along with folk songs, traditional dress, and ancient tea ceremonies—some experts see it as a movement back to forms of Vietnamese identity that preceded Communism and war.

The government has mostly accepted the traditionalist revival. The AO Show at the Opera House in Ho Chi Minh City, featuring modern dances with bamboo poles and folk songs, has become a hit for both tourists and local school groups. The performers see themselves as active participants in protecting Vietnam from foreign influence.

Many young Vietnamese feel optimistic but occasionally unmoored. They’re reaching out for communities of faith and culture and reviving traditional religions and rituals.

Weekend retreats at the Giac Ngo Pagoda in Ho Chi Minh City attract large groups of young professionals. They chant together under the gaze of golden Buddhas. Catholic seminaries and convents across Vietnam have also expanded in recent years, increasing the number of young priests and nuns. Some experts see it as a movement back to forms of Vietnamese identity that preceded Communism and war. Young men and women embrace faith—along with folk songs, traditional dress, and ancient tea ceremonies.

The government has mostly accepted the traditionalist revival. The AO Show at the Opera House in Ho Chi Minh City features modern dances with bamboo poles and folk songs. It has become a hit for both tourists and local school groups. The performers see themselves as protecting Vietnam from foreign influence.

“The most important thing for me as a young person is to preserve the culture of Vietnamese people—beyond wars,” says Doan Khanh, 34, an AO Show dancer.

But expression in Vietnam has its limits. This is still a one-party state where dissent can lead to prison. In 2022, an art exhibition meant to commemorate Vietnam’s victory over the French at Dien Bien Phu in 1954, which effectively ended French colonial rule, was shut down by officials—apparently because a painting included images of a tattered Vietnamese flag and bony soldiers.

Even a devout Vietnamese Buddhist who went viral for his long barefoot walks around the country was detained last June and forced to end his pilgrimage. Because he had gained followers online and off, independent of the state-sponsored Buddhist system, he was treated as a threat.

“The most important thing for me as a young person is to preserve the culture of Vietnamese people—beyond wars,” says Doan Khanh, 34, an AO Show dancer.

But expression in Vietnam has its limits. This is still a one-party state where dissent can lead to prison. In 2022, an art exhibition meant to commemorate Vietnam’s victory over the French at Dien Bien Phu in 1954, which effectively ended French colonial rule, was shut down by officials. (This was because a painting included images of a tattered Vietnamese flag and bony soldiers.)

A devout Vietnamese Buddhist was detained last June. He had gone viral for his long barefoot walks around the country was and forced to end his pilgrimage. He was treated as a threat because he had gained followers online and off, independent of the state-sponsored Buddhist system.

Today’s Vietnam, above all, wants to work and earn. The nation is still young—with a median age of around 33 (in the U.S., it’s about 39)—but getting older as birth rates decline.

The hope for many in Vietnam is that the war and all its associated struggles will fade into the oblivion of prosperity. But the hard work of unification remains. Thousands of families from the North and South still search for the bodies of relatives lost in the war, and still face the repercussions of American involvement.

Today’s Vietnam, above all, wants to work and earn. The nation is still young. The median age is around 33 (in the U.S., it’s about 39), but it is getting older as birth rates decline.

The hope for many in Vietnam is that the war and all its associated struggles will fade into the oblivion of prosperity. But the hard work of unification remains. Thousands of families from the North and South still search for the bodies of relatives lost in the war. They still face the repercussions of American involvement.

Nguyen Ngoc Phuong, 45, and his sister were born with physical deformities because of their father’s exposure to Agent Orange, a toxic chemical used by the U.S. military to remove foliage that provided enemy cover. He wishes more young people recognized that the war’s toll is never gone—and that grit clears a path for dreams.

“Without yesterday, we don’t have today,” he says. “Without the suffering of people who endured the war, there’s no peace.”

Peace, however, isn’t just the absence of combat.

Phan Duong Hung Tam, 57, runs a business making women’s dresses for American brands. One of his factories is in Dong Nai Province, outside Ho Chi Minh City. He says that finding peace of mind is harder now as costs rise and orders shrink.

Nguyen Ngoc Phuong, 45, and his sister were born with physical deformities because of their father’s exposure to Agent Orange. The toxic chemical was used by the U.S. military to remove foliage that provided enemy cover. He wishes more young people recognized that the war’s toll is never gone—and that grit clears a path for dreams.

“Without yesterday, we don’t have today,” he says. “Without the suffering of people who endured the war, there’s no peace.”

Peace, however, isn’t just the absence of combat.

Phan Duong Hung Tam, 57, runs a business making women’s dresses for American brands. One of his factories is in Dong Nai Province, outside Ho Chi Minh City. He says that finding peace of mind is harder now as costs rise and orders shrink.

During the war, his father was a senior military officer for the South in Da Nang near a U.S. base. But afterward, his family moved around and struggled with being kept out of good jobs because of their Southern connections. In 1987, his father fled by boat, taking Tam’s siblings with him. He returned only in 2003, when he was ill and ready to die.

Tam sighs after recounting his family’s breakup and its changes in fortune—which included success during an apparel boom 25 years ago and a son studying dentistry.

Does he feel better off than he did 50 years ago? He leans back in his chair. Sewing machines hum. Tears form in his eyes.

“Life is getting better,” he says. “It’s OK.”

During the war, his father was a senior military officer for the South in Da Nang near a U.S. base. But afterward, his family moved around and struggled with being kept out of good jobs because of their Southern connections. In 1987, his father fled by boat, taking Tam’s siblings with him. He returned only in 2003, when he was ill and ready to die.

Tam sighs after recounting his family’s breakup and its changes in fortune—which included success during an apparel boom 25 years ago. He also has a son studying dentistry.

Does he feel better off than he did 50 years ago? He leans back in his chair. Sewing machines hum. Tears form in his eyes.

“Life is getting better,” he says. “It’s OK.”

Damien Cave is the Vietnam bureau chief for The Times. Tung Ngo is a Times reporter.

Damien Cave is the Vietnam bureau chief for The Times. Tung Ngo is a Times reporter.