For the approaching 50th anniversary of the Vietnam War’s end, I reflect on whether this date—or others—holds significance for the Montagnard Degar community in the United States.
My mother married an American and came to this country soon after April 30, 1975. But her experience does not represent the broader Montagnard Degar community, many of whom started their journey to the United States in refugee camps before resettling in North Carolina beginning in the mid-1980s.
I’m part of chat groups of young, first- and second-generation Montagnard Degar Americans. So, I asked if they knew of anniversary events — or whether this date might have significance to their families. One said that Southeast Asian American advocacy organizations would mark the moment. Others said the day would pass unnoticed, even by family members who fought alongside Americans.
Montagnard Degar writers H’Abigail Mlo and Y-Danair Niehrah speak with hosts Viet Thanh Nguyen and Philip Nguyen on the Accented podcast.
The United States’ defeat in Vietnam on April 30, 1975, seems to resonate differently with the Degar/Montagnard American diaspora than with Vietnamese Americans. Our indigenous communities fought to reclaim our ancestral lands and preserve our cultures distinct from the dominant majority Vietnamese through movements like BAJARAKA and FULRO — battles against colonization. To us, the Fall of Saigon in 1975 may have seemed to be merely a changing of the guard, ultimately. Whether under the Indochine Française colony (1887–1954), the American-backed Republic of Vietnam (1955–1975), or the Socialist Republic of Vietnam (1975-present), we’ve faced statelessness and displacement from our lands and been stripped of autonomy, culturally and politically.
Vietnam’s duality as both the colonized and colonizer complicates its history in Southeast Asia and beyond — themes Viet Thanh Nguyen wrestles with in his hybrid memoir, A Man of Two Faces, for which the author Y-Danair Niehrah and I were consulted for the parts on Degar Montagnard history.
But rather than dwelling on this aspect of history, it feels more constructive to reflect on what our communities can change. I am drawn to questions about the potential of our present and future: What historic events should the Montagnard Degar community recognize or celebrate? Should we mark and celebrate a day like how the Black American community celebrates Juneteenth, given how there are some historical echoes? And do we need perfect narratives for a collective celebration?
To Endure and Survive: A Celebration
In 1865, enslaved Black people in Texas remained in bondage for two and a half years after Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation had abolished slavery. Emancipation was the law of the land, but it was toothless to rebel Southern slaveholders. Only the Union Army — armed with rifled muskets — could enforce it, traveling from state to state in the South. Texas was the furthest and the last bastion of chattel slavery. Two and a half years after Lincoln abolished slavery, the Union Army arrived to enforce it, liberating 250,000 enslaved people in Texas. The day would become Juneteenth.
In 1992, a group of FULRO fighters emerged from the northeastern Cambodian jungle after hiding for seventeen years. The last to surrender, they had once been part of a guerrilla force of approximately 7,000 troops resisting the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. After the fall of Saigon, FULRO initially hoped the U.S. would aid them. Instead, the Chinese supported their rebel war against Vietnam. A faction of 400 — including women and children — remained in Cambodia’s Mondulkiri forest, unaware that the war had ended. In 1992, they learned that their leader, Y Bham Enuol, had been executed by the Khmer Rouge in 1975. Only then did they surrender — and were resettled in North Carolina.
Montagnard Degar writers H’Abigail Mlo and Y-Danair Niehrah speak with hosts Viet Thanh Nguyen and Philip Nguyen on the Accented podcast.
Both events reflect people who remained embattled long after wars had officially ceased. While there are fundamental differences between those who attained long-awaited freedom in Texas and the FULRO fighters who surrendered, to me, these events share parallels and invite reflection. Should the Montagnard Degar American community establish a day to commemorate the formation of its diaspora, much like Juneteenth marks a defining moment for Black Americans?
Such a day might honor the collective experience of fleeing Vietnam — not by boat, but through the forests — and the families that lived in limbo but found hope before beginning new in the United States. It would be a celebration of resilience and survival — and the formation of our communities.
Should we mark November 1992 as the date the last FULRO faction reconnected with the outside world? Or perhaps November 24, 1986, when an earlier group laid down arms in Thailand and became the first to resettle in the U.S.? Our communities were formed largely from three different resettlement events. Can we choose a date to recognize the seeding of our communities as a diaspora?
The Need for Narratives — Even Imperfect Ones
This question about whether we should designate a “Juneteenth” for our community connects to a larger discussion about taking control of our narrative, collectively and individually. I’ve dedicated some ink, time, and grant money to that mission because growing up, I needed more stories to understand my Montagnard Degar heritage.
Unsurprisingly, I am not alone.
In 2024, author and DVAN Vietnam Writer’s Residency Fellow H’Abigail Mlo conducted a survey among Degar/Montagnard Americans, asking: What do you wish you knew about Montagnard culture? The responses, published in a digital zine titled What Grandmother Couldn’t Teach Me, with creative support from the Southeast Asian Diaspora Project (SEAD), revealed a profound hunger for knowledge about our histories, cultures, and identities.
Out of eighteen respondents, seventeen expressed a desire to learn more about Montagnard origins and traditions. Most were young adults, aged 20 to 28, primarily from North Carolina. A 37-year-old from Asheville wanted to explore Montagnard artistic expression. A 25-year-old from Greensboro echoed this sentiment, writing, “I wish I knew more about Montagnard art and literature.”
A 30-year-old from Charlotte admitted, “I truly don’t know much or anything about our people, language, or culture, so I want to know everything I can… I want to hear more of our stories.” Many respondents said that they wanted to know more of our folklore, stories, and literature.
Historical erasure is not accidental; it is how dominant groups exert social and political control. The difficulty of accessing Montagnard history underscores the importance of preserving our narratives — and supporting our storytellers. Diasporic artists like Abi Mlo, Y-Danair Niehrah, Anna Ksor Buonya and Cece Ksor Buonya, Rich Enuol, Mora Donggur, and Sachi Dely are doing groundbreaking, community-defining work by committing their voices, imagination, experience and talent to publishing.
As we reflect on the Vietnam War’s legacy, it’s important to consider how the Montagnard Degard community considers its place in these larger narratives. But just as necessary, we need to explore the data, the stories, and our experiences — and formulate our own. When narratives fail us by trafficking limiting beliefs and stereotypes, the antidote is to search deeper for answers or tap our creativity and imaginations.
A community’s origin story doesn’t always resemble heroic battles. Sometimes, it’s about people who fought, lost, and survived. Such narratives are a kind of liberation story themselves. By celebrating both valor and vulnerability — we are free to honor the fullest of our humanity.
H’Rina DeTroy is a Montagnard American writer from New York and living in Durham, North Carolina. She is a contributing editor at diaCRITICS with a focus on amplifying diasporic, indigenous, and ethnic minority Southeast Asian voices. Her essay “Love + X” was featured in The Make Believers, a special issue of McSweeney’s released in 2025 celebrating the Vietnamese diaspora and guest edited by Thi Bui and Vu Tran. She received the Cafe Royal Cultural Foundation 2020 Grant in Literature and the 2019 Emerging Writer Fellowship at Aspen Words. Roxane Gay selected her essay, “The Vengeance of Elephants,” for the 2017 Curt Johnson Prose Award. Her essay “Destiny Manifest” was featured in MY LIFE: Growing Up Asian in America (MTV Books, 2022). “Knot” was published in the anthology Borderlands and Crossroads: Writing the Motherland (Demeter Press, 2016). Her writing has also appeared in the Huffington Post, Cultural Survival Quarterly, and other media outlets. www.hrinadetroy.com
Hoan Rahlan is a Montagnard-Jarai artist specializing in portraiture, cultural narratives, and storytelling. www.hoanrahlanartstudio.com
Interesting discussion. The need to orient oneself and others in the gumbo of American culture. The American War is not considered much nowadays.