Dispatch

'The Regime Could Collapse Quickly'

As anti-Chinese protests roil Vietnam, a domestic pro-democratic opposition is quietly gathering steam.

HANOI, Vietnam — When journalist Pham Chi Dung quit Vietnam's Communist Party in December, he was so angry he published his letter of resignation on the Internet. One of the country's leading dissidents, Pham accused the party of rampant corruption and monopolizing power against the wishes of a growing number of Vietnamese. "Never before have specific groups and political cronies benefitted so profoundly from their cooperation [with the party]," he wrote. Plainclothes agents, he claims, have watched him ever since. "If I go anywhere, two of them follow me," he said in a hotel room in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam's economic hub in the humid south of the country. It was too dangerous to meet at his office or home, Pham explained.

For 16 years, Pham worked as a member of the Ho Chi Minh City security bureau, the local party-affiliated police force, collecting information on activists, writers, and dissidents perceived to be regime opponents. But when the authorities found he had for years been secretly writing articles critical of the party for overseas Vietnamese-language news sites, they imprisoned him without formal charge in July 2012. Since his release seven months later, and subsequent sacking from the security bureau, Pham has emerged as one of Vietnam's leading regime critics. He wrote anonymously before his arrest; now he writes under his own name for outlets like the BBC's Vietnam service, and more prolifically than ever. "Before I believed in the party," he said. "But after what happened, I felt that the Communist Party is not faithful to the people."

If views on the street and online are anything to go by, Pham's change of heart is reflective of mounting public frustration with the Vietnamese government. Economic stagnation and failure to introduce greater political freedoms have prompted growing dissent -- particularly online -- threatening the party's legitimacy. Anti-China protests in mid-May injured at least 129 people, and captured international headlines. But for many Vietnamese, it is exploitation by their own government -- not their northern neighbor -- that is at the heart of internal unrest.

The country's poor economic performance is one of the driving forces of discord. From one of the world's poorest countries after the Vietnam War, the party introduced economic reforms in 1986 known as Doi Moi -- "renovation" -- and by the 1990s, Vietnam's economy was one of the fastest growing in Southeast Asia. Between 2006 and 2009, the country's annual GDP doubled to more than $90 billion.

Yet since then, the economic outlook has been gloomy. This is partly due to the global financial crisis, but mostly arising from structural problems originating from the hybrid capitalist-communist system. Growth driven by easily available credit and top-down, inefficient state-owned companies led to rising inflation -- reaching 18.7 percent in 2011, the highest in Southeast Asia. As a result, Vietnamese have seen their spending power reduced in recent years as banks have tried to clear bad debts, said Eugenia Victorino, a Vietnam economic analyst at ANZ Bank.

Limited reform efforts have failed to jumpstart Vietnam's stunted economy. The country's GDP rose just 5.4 percent in 2013, a rate economists say remains too weak to prompt a full recovery. All of Vietnam's developing neighbors reported higher GDP growth in 2013: Laos hit 8 percent; China 7.7 percent, and Cambodia 7 percent.

In October 2012, under pressure to account for the country's stagnant growth, Vietnamese Prime Minister Nguyen Tan Dung made a rare admission of "faults" over the struggling economy. His mea culpa was also, in part, a response to a spat of graft scandals that have emerged under his watch.

Since then, the party has been increasingly public about their efforts to suppress what continues to be widespread corruption. As of November, Vietnamese courts had held 278 corruption trials in 2013, according to a government report. In the past six months alone, Vietnam has sentenced at least three bankers to death on graft charges after they were found to have collectively stolen hundreds of millions of dollars from state-owned companies, including Vietnam Agribank, the country's largest commercial lender. But corruption crackdowns are a mixed blessing for the Communist Party: announcing ever-wider probes of corruption has drawn greater attention to graft in Vietnam's state-owned companies.

These injustices are increasingly disillusioning many of the one-party state's 90 million people, says Chu Hao, a retired deputy minister of science and technology and among the most outspoken of Vietnam's former senior officials. "Despite government attempts to reinforce its authority and foster [faith in the government], its numerous limitations and shortcomings remain, prompting people to believe less and react more," he said.  

In January 2013, Hanoi invited the public to give feedback on proposed amendments to Vietnam's constitution -- the first time, according to a number of dissidents and former party officials, it has consulted its citizens on proposed political changes. In response, tens of thousands of high-ranking party members, army officials, intellectuals, priests, students, teachers, and lawyers signed online petitions calling for a multi-party system -- a proposal quietly ignored when Vietnam's parliament passed only minor constitutional changes in November. 

During this period, the government also ramped up efforts to silence its critics: The number of dissidents convicted of subversion and other politically-motivated charges increased from around 40 in 2012 to at least 63 in 2013 according to Human Rights Watch. Although the pace of arrests has slowed in recent months, according to a Western diplomat based in Vietnam who asked to speak anonymously, the government's detractors remain at risk.

Two bloggers were sentenced to prison in March for criticizing the government under Article 258, one of a number of new directives passed over the past two years designed to curtail criticism on the web. The media remains largely controlled by the state, yet without an effective firewall like neighboring China, the party has struggled to put a lid on online dissent. The number of Facebook users in Vietnam climbed from about 10 million in Dec. 2012 to 24 million in April 2014, as citizens easily circumvented lackluster state filtering.

Meanwhile, a haphazard effort by the state to crackdown on online dissent has left many Vietnamese increasingly emboldened and angry. Nguyen Thu Trang, a 20-year-old Hanoi barista said she has been questioned and harassed by state agents over her critical posts on politics and Vietnamese society. But despite warnings from her parents that she could end up in jail, Nguyen said she would not keep quiet. "Democracy cannot be established immediately," she said during a break from working at an upscale Hanoi café. "It requires a long-term process and people are the key factor." 

Nguyen says she has friends even younger than her that are airing their critiques online -- a new generation of dissenting voices that have emerged with the popularity of social networking platforms like Facebook. Although these younger web-based activists and more high-profile regime opponents like Pham say they plan to coordinate what appears to be a growing movement, the state still faces little in the way of organized opposition.

Direct political action challenging the one-party status quo remains all but impossible. Only 8.4 percent of representatives in Vietnam's unicameral parliament are independent of the party. And while their presence has allowed greater debate in how the country is run in recent years, ultimate decision-making remains an opaque process at the highest echelons of the party. The vetting process to even get on the ballot remains strictly controlled by the central government. Nguyen Canh Binh, CEO of private Hanoi-based publishing house Alpha Books, was among a handful of Vietnamese who tried to run as independents in the last parliamentary elections, in 2011. A pragmatic and outspoken reformer, Nguyen Canh Binh is hardly one of the regime's most aggressive critics. Yet still, he says, the party rejected his candidacy, refusing to approve his application to run on the ballot, without giving a reason.  

Nguyen Canh Binh favors what he calls a "middle way" for Vietnam -- a non-confrontational approach. He is starting a new educational program outside the state system to teach the country's future elites how to lead, and has so far printed hundreds of Vietnamese translations of books on Western politics, philosophy and culture. He wants slow, steady change -- not a Vietnamese Spring. "We don't have good knowledge or understand fully the other side of democracy," he said. "We see what's happening with crises in Thailand and the Ukraine."

Retired deputy minister Chu, however, is pessimistic. Although the government is hearing more about how ordinary Vietnamese feel, it's not really listening, he says, and that could be the party's undoing. "They have two choices: get closer to people's lives and be more democratic. Or, to continue the crackdown and lack democracy," he said. "If the latter is chosen, the regime could collapse quickly."

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Dispatch

The Ballot and the Barrel

An obscure Indian law requires gun owners to surrender their weapons during election season. But India’s gun lobby says it only encourages a spike in violence.

HYDERABAD, India — Election season has been busy for Abbas Hussain, an authorized gun dealer in the South Indian city of Hyderabad. Not because his customers are eager to buy his weapons -- but because they are scrambling to return them.

"There was one bugger who called me at the last possible minute," said Hussain, a slight, garrulous 44-year-old who chain-smoked Gold Flake cigarettes from the porch of his spacious home in late March, just days before voting began. "I had to open my shop in the middle of the night, because if the police catch you with a gun the next morning, then God help you."

India has just concluded the largest election the world has ever seen, with 814 million voters eligible to go to one of 930,000 polling stations. And trying to thwart violence during an election of this magnitude has been a challenge, especially given India's history of disruption at the polls. In 2009, during the last parliamentary election, armed Maoist insurgents bombed polling stations, stole voting machines, and kidnapped election officials, leaving 18 dead in an attempt to discourage voter turnout in the central state of Chhattisgarh. When an estimated 500 people were killed during the 1978 village-level elections in the northern state of Bihar, village-level elections were reportedly not held in that state for another 23 years

This year's election has not been immune from violence. Leading contender Narendra Modi of the Bharatiya Janata Party positioned himself as a strong nationalist and pro-business leader, as opposed to the incumbent Congress party's Rahul Gandhi, who is often seen as feckless. But Modi's stridently pro-Hindu views and his association with the 2002 communal riots that occurred between Hindus and Muslims in the state of Gujarat, where he has been chief minister since 2001, means election authorities have been especially on edge. In April, Maoist rebels killed 14 people in Chhattisgarh in an effort to discourage voters. Around the same time, a 10-year-old boy was killed in Uttar Pradesh state when gunmen allegedly shot at citizens who had voted for a particular candidate, one whose name was withheld by police in order to prevent retaliatory violence. The most tragic incident happened in early May in the northeastern state of Assam, where ethnic Bodo militants murdered 41 Muslims, according to police. The attack happened just miles away from where several days earlier Modi delivered an incendiary speech in which he warned that illegal immigrants from Bangladesh were taking over the state.

To help rein in these acts of violence, India's election laws require security checkpoints, regulation of alcohol sales, and curfews on nightclubs and bars. But a rule requiring licensed gun owners to deposit their weapons with the police or authorized arms dealers may be the most controversial. Critics say that taking away licensed guns throughout the election period, a right granted to the government since British colonial times, is both outdated and ineffective. "You ask me to deposit my gun. But I haven't committed any crime in my 34 years of existence," said Rakshit Sharma, secretary-general of the National Association for Gun Rights India, an interest group for legal gun owners. "It is a farce, just to make it look to the public like the authorities are doing something." 

During each election in India, roughly three months before voting begins, local police stations contact licensed gun owners within their jurisdictions in order to start collecting personal firearms. Gun owners choose to leave their weapons either at a private armory, like Hussain's, or at a local police station, and they must show local law enforcement a receipt of their deposit. Sharma said most gun enthusiasts choose the armory because the armory owners take good care of their customers' often expensive weapons.

Some gun owners are exempt from the law -- the Election Commission allows members of the National Rifle Association of India, a group for professional sport shooters (unrelated to the better-known National Rifle Association in the United States), to keep their guns. But in practice, members are often pressured to turn them in anyway, Sharma said. 

Even outside election season, it's difficult and expensive to buy a gun in India. To procure a license, regular citizens must give evidence that their lives are threatened and require extra security, as legislated in the 1959 Arms Act and the 1962 Arms Rules. In 1986, the central government banned all imports of firearms in response to a violent insurgency in the northwestern state of Punjab. Today, most Indians looking to buy legal guns must choose between arms imported before the law went into effect and the basic handguns and rifles manufactured by the state-run Indian Ordnance Factories, which Sharma says are low quality and overpriced. A used Walther PPK -- James Bond's weapon of choice, which costs around $300 in the United States -- can fetch as much as $15,000 in India, Sharma said. His Smith & Wesson revolver cost him half a million rupees, or about $10,000 at the current exchange rate -- about nine times what it would cost in the United States. "The owner's nightmare is to see them rust at a police station for two months," he said.

Gun rights advocates say that such tight control has enabled India's flourishing illegal arms industry, where guns are cheaper and more readily available, and that the strict regulation is unnecessary because firearms kill relatively few people in India each year. In 2009, the latest year for which Indian data is available, 3,093 people were killed in gun-related homicides, far fewer than the 11,493 people who died in shootings in the United States that same year.

There's no authoritative tally of the number of guns in India. The best estimate, from a 2011 survey by the India Armed Violence Assessment, a New Delhi-based research organization, says the country has 40 million privately owned guns -- the second most in the world, after the United States -- with only 6 million of them legal. That's why Sonal Marwah, a researcher with the India Armed Violence Assessment, which works to measure and analyze the arms industry, thinks taking guns away from licensed holders could be counterproductive. Marwah said that during elections -- especially in thinly policed rural areas -- politically connected gangs buy up cheap, often makeshift, guns from illegal workshops. The guns are then used to intimidate voters into supporting a certain candidate -- though rarely, she added, for injuring or killing people. "It is the old rationale: criminal behavior," she said, pointing to police reports of gun seizures. "It enforces demand, and you would expect it to peak during election season."

With security forces on high alert, police chiefs said the crackdown on illegal guns peaks during election season -- particularly in trigger-happy states like Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. Just before midnight on March 1, a small boat ferried a cluster of undercover policemen across the Ganges River to a rural tract of land in Munger, a small district in the impoverished state of Bihar. Munger is home to a 200-year-old munitions factory -- and notorious for its booming illegal gun industry, which supplies sophisticated weapons from hundreds of bootleg factories to customers across the country, according to Munger Police Chief Sudhanshu Kumar. He said his officers raided a cache of 450 illegal pistols and arrested four local manufacturers. Their interrogation of those arrested then led them to the city of Howrah, where they seized an additional 1,500 illegal firearms. "During the election there seems to be a spurt" of illegal guns sold, said the state's chief of police, Abhayanand, who goes by one name. 

Abhayanand said that between December and March alone, he oversaw the seizure of 1,093 illegal guns. In Hyderabad, on the other hand, police commissioner Anurag Sharma said that his force confiscated just three illegal firearms in the run-up to the elections -- proof that India's diverse cultural and political landscape makes for an uneven playing field when implementing laws.

Still, Sharma insisted that the tension surrounding elections underscored the government's need to control weapons across the country. "The availability of an arm itself is a temptation" to misuse it during elections, he said. And with all legal guns quarantined in the armories and stations, any weapon still left on the street would most likely be illegal and easy for police to detect, he added.

Back on his porch, Hussain the armory owner said Hyderabad did not have a culture of gun violence but rather a history of respecting weapons -- from bejeweled swords to handcrafted rifles -- and compared his collection to the thrill of prestigious cars, like a Rolls-Royce.

"I've got a Pedersoli 12-gauge. It's the best type of shotgun. And a .256 Mannlicher-Carcano. They call it a 'Kennedy Killer' in the United States," he said when asked about his personal favorites -- referring to the 6.5 mm Carcano rifle that Lee Harvey Oswald allegedly used to assassinate U.S. President John F. Kennedy. "But I prefer the shotgun at all times. It's got multiple uses, whether you're hunting a partridge or a tiger."

He'll have to wait a few days to fire them again -- even licensed arms dealers are required to lock up their weapons. "Most of the bloody criminals use kitchen knives they bought in the mall anyway," he said. "But the law is the law."

NARINDER NANU/AFP/Getty Images