• The Vietnamese Delegation at the Paris Negotiations

Conscience and Homeland

Amid the Vietnam War, which had drained the United States with heavy human and material losses, American leadership came to a realization: there was no escape from negotiation. They finally decided to sit at the table with the Vietnamese resistance and sent an official invitation asking them to form a delegation to attend peace talks in Paris, the French capital.

The response came quickly: a delegation of two men and two women. As usual, the American intelligence service prepared every form of comfort and temptation — a luxurious hotel, lavish meals, luxury cars waiting at the airport, and a diplomatic reception fit for “negotiation guests.”

But what happened at the airport surprised everyone.

As soon as the Vietnamese delegation arrived, they refused to ride in the luxury cars. They insisted on leaving the airport their own way and assured the hosts they would attend the sessions on time. The head of the American delegation approached them in confusion and asked:

— “So where will you be staying?”

One of the Vietnamese members calmly but firmly replied:

— “We will stay with a Vietnamese student who lives on the outskirts of Paris.”

The American responded in disbelief:

— “But we arranged for you a comfortable hotel, excellent accommodations with every detail...”

The Vietnamese man interrupted him, saying:

— “We fought you in the mountains and tunnels, slept on rocks, and ate grass to survive. If we get used to comfort and luxury now, we fear our souls might change — and with them, our conscience. So please, let us be.”

The Americans had nothing to say. They watched silently as the Vietnamese left with dignity, heading toward their modest destination.

The negotiations unfolded over the next few days with caution and seriousness. When the meetings finally ended, the American delegate reached out to shake hands with the Vietnamese representatives — but they refused.

One of them said:

— “We are still enemies. Our people did not authorize us to shake your hands. Whoever sells his conscience will not hesitate to sell his country.”

The American delegation left those negotiations having learned a lesson they would never forget: that people who fight with true conviction are not seduced by hotel luxuries or deceived by diplomatic smiles. True resolve is not for sale — it resists to the very end.

This was not just a story written by politics, but one carved by national pride in letters of fire and iron.