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Open minds open doors

To equip its young with the skills needed to kick- start the economy, Vietnam is allowing foreign schools onto its soil. But the communist regime is keeping them on a tight rein

HANOI & HO CHI MINH CITY - Like any scientist eager to see her country move forward, 52-year-old Ngo Kieu Oanh prizes creative thinking among her young Vietnamese colleagues. But the National Centre for Natural Science and Technology researcher believes their potential is stifled by a state university system stuck in the past-- where underpaid faculty members deliver outdated lectures and survive by taking private students. In working with even the brightest new researchers, Oanh says, "I must educate them from the beginning."

Naturally, Oanh hungers for something better for her own 18-year-old daughter, who sees herself contributing to Vietnam's hi-tech ambitions by becoming a Web designer. Yet Oanh won't send her to study overseas, because she worries that her daughter will be homesick or lose touch with her culture. That's why the pair are attending an information session on Vietnam's first 100% foreign-owned university--a newly established Ho Chi Minh City branch campus of Australia's Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology, or RMIT, which is making a bid to transform Vietnam's antiquated education sector and spur the economy. They quickly decide on a three-year bachelor-degree programme in applied science in information technology and multi-media. Total cost: $7,900.

RMIT is banking on a growing market of Vietnamese parents like Oanh, who want to equip their children with the skills needed for careers in a competitive, modern society. Michael Mann, president of RMIT Vietnam and a former Australian ambassador to the country, knows that the student pool is bigger than the country's $430 per-capita GDP would suggest. Market-research surveys reveal swelling disposable incomes among the urban consumer class, with higher education cited as a top priority. Such families cringe at the high rates of underemployment among local graduates. However, the astronomical tuition fees abroad and the scarcity of scholarships are breeding parental desperation.

But this is not the typical story of an Asian nation happily embracing foreign education. It is the story of a communist regime pushed to the wall by economic needs, yet reluctant to overhaul its own ossified universities. The bedrock fear is that any sustained effort to nurture critical thinking could spill into demands for political change. So while the Vietnamese have moved to dismantle central planning, de-collectivize farmland and privatize health care, they are keeping the nation's universities on a short leash.

That leash could choke the country's economic ambitions. Vietnam wants to move beyond being merely a source of cheap labour and craves a knowledge-based economy. That will only come with a modernized education system. As Thomas Vallely of the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University notes: "I think there's a growing understanding that FDI [foreign direct investment] follows education." Hence, the party is welcoming some foreign education initiatives. But this effort to improve learning is proving a precarious balancing act. Foreign educators understand the mandate: Give us the practical skills in computer science, economics, business, and foreign languages that we need to compete in the global economy and attract investment--but steer clear of history, literature, anthropology, or any other social science that might raise too many questions in vulnerable young minds.

Some officials appreciate the effort of foreign schools like RMIT to teach by example. By emphasizing problem-solving through updated case studies, using classroom discussion instead of didactic lectures, encouraging on-line learning and promoting fluency in English, they can provide a vital model. "The Vietnamese universities will have to improve themselves to compete with foreign universities," says Truong Song Duc, director of Ho Chi Minh City's Department of Education and Training.

For their part, the foreign universities are happy to concentrate on business and IT, since that's where the market is. And with 1.4 million students applying for 168,000 places at local universities, there's an obvious education gap. Schools poised to jump in include Australia's Swinburne University of Technology, which is investing in a campus in the southern province of Ba Ria-Vung Tau. And a consortium of French public universities is working with a group of overseas Vietnamese private investors to open a private university in Ho Chi Minh City in 2004. Officials are also allowing more joint-degree programmes, whereby students begin course work at local universities, then finish their degrees at overseas institutions. Bubbling to the surface are parental fears of sending unsupervised teenagers overseas to study. There are now 15,000 Vietnamese students abroad, and tales of delinquency have been drifting back home. (Australia cancelled 151 Vietnamese student visas between July 2001 and March 2002, after finding that students were not showing up for classes.) By offering Vietnamese students a familiar environment in their own country for the first two years, schools say they can better prepare them for the psychological and intellectual challenges abroad.

At least that's the pitch honed by Nguyen Ngoc My, a businessman who commutes between Australia and Vietnam, where he is helping to set up the Swinburne campus. He recounts: "I know about a dozen kids in Sydney and Melbourne. Their parents ask me to look after them. How can I look after them? I try to call, and say, 'Study hard, don't go to the disco.' They say, 'yeah, yeah.' It's very hard."

And for some Vietnamese officials who send their children overseas, it's getting harder to avoid questions from disgruntled citizens on how they can afford such fancy educations on such tiny state salaries. Recently the local media accused a police officer of taking bribes from a southern mafia kingpin to pay for his child's tuition in Australia. The Canadian government turns down 40% of student applicants, mostly due to fraudulent financial documents. "The parents probably have the money, but they can't prove it, or they don't want to," says one Canadian education consultant.

Although the World Bank and the Asian Development Bank have poured $15 million in loans into RMIT's $36 million venture, some education specialists say the more urgent task lies in helping Vietnamese universities reform themselves. They see the goal as cultivating a broad spectrum of young people, not just the prosperous few. "If Vietnam wants to be a modern country, it needs a modern university," says Harvard's Vallely.

His latest strategy? Urge the Vietnamese to follow China, where leaders have poured hundreds of millions of dollars into upgrading Peking and Tsinghua universities, and have dramatically boosted international exchanges. Impressed yet resentful of the economic powerhouse next door, the Vietnamese seem ready to listen. Deputy Prime Minister Nguyen Manh Cam and other top officials recently met with leading educators from Harvard, Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Princeton university. They're dreaming of establishing "centres of excellence" in science and technology at one or two top Vietnamese universities, with the help of the World Bank. Similar initiatives have spurred original research and slowed down brain drain in such countries as Chile, Mexico and Brazil.

In Vietnam's case, the problem is not only brain drain but underusing the brains that dutifully return home. In local academia, innovation often invites suspicion and jealousy. Promotions reward those who stick to the status quo. Some Vietnamese academics say the Communist Party is now further tightening the leash, with the party committee on science and education moving from an advisory role to micro-management of proposed curriculum changes and academic publications. In June, the prime minister issued a directive to strengthen the teaching of Marxism, Leninism and "Ho Chi Minh Thought" at all universities, including foreign ones. (RMIT does not offer such subjects.)

Surprisingly, though, the nation's most prestigious campus--Vietnam National University in Hanoi--is launching a pilot project to broaden its political-science curriculum to include the study of American politics (see story on page 30). And some intellectuals, both Vietnamese and foreigners, remain optimistic that the young scholars returning from the West over the next decade will succeed in transforming Vietnamese academia. American anthropologist Charles Keyes points to the academic reforms in Thailand as evidence that Vietnam, too, may well turn the corner. "What happens, eventually, is that you get a critical mass of new people who think differently," says Keyes.

Ultimately, it could prove counterproductive for Vietnam to clamp down on social sciences while encouraging business and IT studies. Such dichotomies make little sense in a global economy, where analytical skills are needed in all fields. Unless Vietnam allows its education system to mature beyond rigid boundaries, it will be doomed as country that can't nurture the creativity it needs to compete on the world stage. And the dreams of eager parents like Oanh will be crushed.

By Margot Cohen - The Far Eastern Economic Review - July 25, 2002.


Lessons in democracy : the ways of the wewt come to one Vietnam university

In most Vietnamese universities, the study of "political science" doesn't stray beyond the hallowed teachings of Marx, Lenin and Ho Chi Minh. But an experiment is under way at the nation's most prestigious campus-- Vietnam National University in Hanoi, or VNU--to introduce lessons in American-style democracy and other political systems worldwide. The experiment is all the more remarkable because it comes at a time when the Communist Party is moving to fortify ideological training at the university level.

Vietnam must study other nations' political systems in order to integrate smoothly with the global economy, say VNU professors. "Lack of knowledge about political science serves as a disadvantage in dealing with other foreign countries," explains Bui Thanh Quat, a professor at VNU's Department of Political Science and Ho Chi Minh Thought. "When you understand each other, you respect each other."

On hand to promote understanding are professors from Connecticut College in the United States. The U.S. State Department has sponsored a three-year academic exchange in political science and economics, concluding in 2004. Nine American social scientists are coming to Hanoi, with 13 VNU faculty members going to Connecticut. The long-term aim is to build a broad undergraduate curriculum in political science.

So far, the Connecticut professors have helped their Vietnamese counterparts delve into some substantive issues of U.S. politics, including separation of powers and constitutional rights. They're highlighting teaching methods as well. "I have emphasized our preference for free, even aggressive inquiry on all topics," says William Frasure, a professor of government and associate dean at Connecticut College. "My colleagues at VNU have frequently expressed admiration for the breadth and freedom of inquiry that we take for granted in the U.S. academic environment."

Given Vietnam's long legacy of restricting social sciences, some academics doubt whether the Connecticut initiative will amount to much. "I don't think this will lead to real change," says one Hanoi professor. While VNU enjoys autonomy from the Ministry of Education and Training when it comes to hosting overseas academics, party approval is still necessary to adjust the curriculum. And even though VNU's rector sits on the party's central committee, it's easy to be outvoted. VNU has a small collection of foreign books on democracy. Segregated from the main library, they're kept locked away.

By Margot Cohen - The Far Eastern Economic Review - July 25, 2002.