The Vietnam War may have ended half a century ago, but its painful legacy continues to haunt the landscapes of Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. Millions of unexploded bombs, dropped by American forces during the war, still litter these countries. These hidden remnants of a brutal past remain a deadly threat, causing tens of thousands of deaths and injuries in the decades since the fighting stopped. Clearing these bombs has been a slow, painstaking process, and experts warn that it may take another century to fully address the problem.
While efforts to clear unexploded ordnance (UXO) have been ongoing for decades, these initiatives depend heavily on financial support, much of which has come from the United States. Over the past 30 years, the U.S. has allocated over $750 million for demining and cleanup operations in Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. However, a recent announcement by the Trump administration has brought this critical funding to a halt. A sweeping pause on U.S. foreign aid, which includes global mine-clearing programs, threatens to stall progress in these regions. The State Department has suspended mine-clearing funding for at least three months, and while the long-term implications remain uncertain, experts fear the decision could have grave consequences.
Bill Morse, co-founder of Cambodian Self Help Demining and the Landmine Relief Fund, was blunt: “There is a good chance people are going to die.” He painted a grim picture—someone might walk into a minefield that should have been cleared, only to face deadly consequences. For communities already grappling with the horrors of war’s aftermath, the funding cut feels like a cruel twist of fate.
In Vietnam, where the scars of war are still deeply felt, the decision has sparked bewilderment and frustration. Tran Phu Cuong, who manages international aid into Vietnam, highlighted the lingering devastation caused by the conflict. Not only does the country have to confront millions of acres contaminated by unexploded bombs, but it also contends with the long-term effects of “Agent Orange,” a toxic chemical sprayed during the war that has been linked to cancer and birth defects. For many Vietnamese, the expectation is clear: the United States bears a moral and historical responsibility to address the aftermath of a war it played such a significant role in.
Stories like that of Ho Van Lai underscore the human toll of this ongoing crisis. Lai was just ten years old when he stumbled upon a cluster bomb in Vietnam’s Quang Tri Province. What seemed like a harmless object exploded in his hands, killing his cousins instantly and leaving him maimed for life. Now 34, Lai has dedicated himself to teaching children how to identify and avoid unexploded bombs, a grim but necessary task. Learning about the funding cuts, Lai expressed sadness, noting that American support for mine-clearing operations had positively shaped the U.S.’s image in Vietnam. “The U.S. support for mine clearing efforts in Vietnam has given the U.S. a good image,” he pointed out, a fragile goodwill now at risk.
Cambodia, too, carries its share of deadly remnants from both the Vietnam War and the subsequent conflicts that plagued the country. The nation’s countryside is riddled with land mines, a deadly legacy that continues to claim lives. Just this January, Pov Nepin, a Cambodian deminer, was killed while clearing an anti-tank mine. Nepin had cleared hundreds of mines since 2021, inspired by his father, a doctor who had treated landmine victims. His brother, Pov Davann, devastated by the loss, voiced a heartfelt plea: “There are still a lot of land mines in Cambodia which we need to clear for farmers.”
Cambodian officials have expressed regret over the U.S. aid suspension but have also pointed a finger at history. Sok Eysan, the spokesman for Cambodia’s ruling party, acknowledged that funding cuts were within the U.S. administration’s prerogative but added, “Who created the wars which left these countries with land mines? Everyone knows.”
China has stepped into the void left by the United States in recent years, expanding its support for mine-clearance operations in Southeast Asia. Experts, like Bill Morse, warn that the Trump administration’s decision to cut mine-clearing aid may further push Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos into closer collaboration with Beijing. While this shift could provide much-needed funding, it represents another chapter in the complex geopolitical dynamics of the region.
In Laos, a country that endured the most intense bombing campaign per capita in history, the challenge is particularly acute. More than 22,000 people have died from unexploded bombs since the war ended, and vast swathes of the country remain uninhabitable. Laos requires an estimated $50 million annually to continue its mine-clearance efforts, with the government contributing $15 million. The rest comes from crucial international aid, including contributions from the U.S., Japan, and the United Nations Development Program. The withdrawal of U.S. funds could hit Laos particularly hard, potentially stalling life-saving efforts in areas where the need is urgent.
For organizations like the U.S.-based advocacy group Legacies of War, the aid suspension is a severe blow. The group’s chief executive, Sera Koulabdara, expressed her disappointment, remarking, “This aid suspension is not sending a good message to the parts of the world who really depend on us.” Koulabdara, who fled Laos at the age of six, plans to lobby Washington to reconsider the decision, urging Congress to hold the administration accountable.
The numbers paint an undeniable picture of the ongoing crisis. Since the Vietnam War, 40,000 people in Vietnam have died from unexploded bombs, with another 60,000 injured. In Cambodia, the death toll exceeds 65,000. These figures reflect a grim reality: the war may have ended decades ago, but for the people of Southeast Asia, its weapons remain a deadly part of daily life.
The United States has played a significant role in funding these life-saving efforts, but this funding has always been dwarfed by the scale of the problem. The decision to halt aid for mine-clearing projects raises serious moral and humanitarian questions. Southeast Asia isn’t looking for handouts—it’s asking for help to mend wounds that the war left behind, wounds that the U.S. played a direct role in creating.
As the debate over funding continues, the clock is ticking. Every day that passes without progress increases the risk of another tragedy—another child stumbling upon a hidden bomb, another farmer killed in a field they hoped to till, another deminer sacrificing their life in the line of duty. For these communities, each unexploded bomb isn’t just a relic of history but an ongoing and immediate threat.
The world will be watching how the U.S. handles this moment, particularly given its historical role in creating the very crisis that organizations and individuals are now working so desperately to resolve. Whether or not the funding suspension extends beyond its initial three-month pause, the decision to halt these programs sends ripples far beyond Southeast Asia. It touches on America’s broader role in the world and its responsibility to address the consequences of its actions—even decades after the fact. Whether Congress can be persuaded to reverse the suspension remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: the cost of inaction will be measured in lives lost.
