Ton That Thien. Wayne Cuddington / The Ottawa Citizen
By Lan Ton
Ton That Thien
Born: 1924 in Hue, Vietnam
Died: Oct. 3, 2014 at his home in Ottawa
In 1975, like thousands of other Vietnamese, my family had to flee communism and leave Viet Nam with only the clothes on our back. We had family in many countries, but my father opted for Canada, a country he knew would offer a warm welcome to refugees, along with freedom and democracy.
My father had never considered leaving Vietnam throughout the years of war, except for study purposes, but in 1975 the Vietnam he knew and loved had left him. The communist regime was an alien culture to the traditions and values that the “old” Vietnam had developed over thousands of years. In a communist Vietnam he would instantly lose his freedom of expression, which he valued more than anything. If his political views had not endangered him in the new regime, then the inability to express his views surely would have killed him. Canada gave him that freedom.
As a journalist, my father was a fiercely independent commentator who wrote with conviction and passion for the truth, no matter the personal consequences. Although a life-long Confucian, his formal education was Western and he always insisted on a methodical analysis based on facts and history. He studied at French schools in Vietnam and then the London School of Economics. In 1963, he obtained his doctorate in political science at the Graduate Institute of International Studies in Geneva.
The fight against colonialism and communism for a free, democratic and economically developed Viet Nam drove my father, and he did not have much time for me when I was a child. Growing up I always had to keep quiet, so that he could work in his office — a room filled to the ceiling with books. I used to sit next to the door so that I could listen when journalists, politicians, students or friends came to discuss current political situations or Viet Nam’s future. But he encouraged me to read. I started reading newspapers at nine, ended up reading all my life, rarely turning on the TV.
In 1968, my father was awarded the Asian Magsaysay Award for Journalism. I understood then that his work was important. From his example I learned that public service means dedicating one’s life for the good of the country.
After we arrived in Canada, my father taught translation at the Université du Québec. The students teased him about his oriental approach — he called them “vous” in French — but they loved him! He continued to write and to be deeply preoccupied with Vietnamese affairs, but he had more time for me. He got me interested in Canadian politics, and we always watched the leaders’ debate together before each election. He dissected them afterwards methodically.
When the grandchildren were old enough, grandpa encouraged them to always open their mind, to keep on learning, to listen, to research and absorb new information. He taught by examples: at 80 years old he still opened math books to review mathematical notions, and wanted to learn everything he could about his new iPad. He knew six languages, and constantly tried to improve his knowledge.
My father taught me to never summarily dismiss other people’s ideas. He was committed to free enquiry and debate. However he was strong in his convictions and fierce in his opinions. As his books, articles and editorials reveal, my father’s writings had an intellectual rigour that spared neither foe nor ally when facts were uncovered. (Our family has gathered close to 400 of his articles written in Vietnamese, French and English, and posted them at www.tonthatthien.com)
Recognizing very early that communism is a foreign ideological intrusion with inherent weaknesses in its logic, my father rejected it. Today his convictions have been proven right as the tide of history turned in the post-1975 period. The post-colonial future of Vietnam is, in the end, not Communist. Today even though Viet Nam is still controlled by an authoritarian Communist Party, the government has had no choice but to switch to a market economy.
In the last week of his life, my father said that his only regret was that he could not accomplish all that he had wished for Viet Nam. My heart ached for him, for at the end of his life his mind could still not stop worrying about the land where he was born. But he said he was so glad that we had found a new homeland in Canada, that his grandchildren are growing up in a democratic country, and have not only freedom of speech but also the choice of studying what they want and open their mind to any knowledge they wish to absorb.
My father never saw his dream realized for Viet Nam, but was proud that Canada had adopted us. He told me to always appreciate the privileges of being a Canadian citizen, especially the ability to vote. He taught me to always be grateful to Canada and to appreciate the freedom, democracy, social justice and equality we have found in our new homeland.
One day my father’s dream will be fulfilled, and Viet Nam, our old homeland, will have freedom, democracy and an economic level comparable to Canada, our new country.
— Lan Ton is Ton That Thien’s daughter. She and her husband, Hung Vu, wrote the song ‘Thank You, Merci Canada’ which was featured in the Ottawa Citizen last January.
