Top 10 Essays on Analyzing the Work 'Blood Tax' by Nguyễn Ái Quốc

The indictment of the French colonial regime by Nguyễn Ái Quốc is a powerful condemnation of the crimes committed by the imperial colonial system. The opening chapter, 'Blood Tax,' is full of deep anger. The term 'Blood Tax' is profoundly meaningful, as it encapsulates both the crimes of the colonial government and the author’s scornful, mocking tone towards those atrocities.

The imperialists who invaded and ruled the colonies committed numerous crimes against the indigenous people. However, the most repulsive crime was the exploitation of the 'Blood Tax.' What is particularly striking in this indictment is how the colonial powers disguised their exploitation of the colonized people's blood and bones under a false façade of benevolence. No one exposed this brutal deception better than Nguyễn Ái Quốc, who unveiled the savage, dishonest, and shameless face of the colonizers. Even in the first part of the chapter, the true nature of the colonizers is laid bare.

War and the Indigenous People. What does war have to do with the indigenous people? The First World War (1914-1918) between imperialist countries, which took place on European battlefields, seemed to have no connection to the peoples of the Asian and African colonies. However, the connection is deeply intertwined. Colonial peoples were sacrificed for the imperialists' interests in this brutal war. To expose the crimes and deceit of the colonial government in exploiting the 'Blood Tax,' Nguyễn Ái Quốc compared the attitudes of colonial rulers at two different times: before and after the outbreak of war.

Before the war, the indigenous people were seen as inferior beings, treated and beaten like animals. Before 1914, they were nothing but filthy 'black men' or 'dirty Annamites,' best suited to pulling rickshaws and enduring the blows from their masters. However, as soon as the war erupted, the colonizers suddenly praised them, calling them worthy of high titles, and transforming them into 'weak children' and 'loyal friends' of the colonizers. In a sudden shift, these indigenous people were honored with the title of 'fighters defending justice and freedom.'

By presenting two contrasting images of the colonizers' attitudes at different times, Nguyễn Ái Quốc exposed the deceitful tactics of the colonial government in transforming the colonized people into sacrificial pawns. And here, the exploitation of the 'Blood Tax' is shown to be especially brutal: 700,000 indigenous people were sent to France, and 80,000 never returned to see the sun rise over their homeland.

To achieve the figure of 700,000, the colonial rulers employed deceptive tactics to conscript soldiers. Nguyễn Ái Quốc sarcastically referred to this as the 'volunteer soldier' system. To conceal the truth, the colonizers spread lies: they claimed that people eagerly volunteered, willingly leaving their beloved homeland to offer their blood as 'red-shirted soldiers,' or their labor as 'workers.'

The colonial government spread tales of the voluntary enlistment of indigenous people while using shameless and deceptive methods to force them into military service. From rural areas to cities, from lowlands to highlands, in every corner of the colonies, coercion and conscription were rampant. Initially, they captured the strong and poor, but many tried to escape. In response, the colonizers didn’t hesitate to tie, chain, and imprison them like animals. Some were sent to provincial capitals, while others, before boarding ships, were locked in a school in Saigon under the guard of French soldiers with bayonets drawn and loaded guns.

Even more savage, when young men from Senegal refused to die for the empire, a French colonizer subjected their family members to torture. He forced elderly men, pregnant women, and daughters to strip naked, their hands bound. These victims were then forced to run through villages, beaten with whips. The brutality of the French 'civilizing' mission is exposed in all its horror. Worse still, as they conscripted soldiers, the colonizers exploited the situation to fill their pockets. They would first target the rich families' children. Those who resisted were met with violence and intimidation, often resulting in them having to choose between military service or paying bribes.

In the third part of the chapter, 'The Results of Sacrifice,' Nguyễn Ái Quốc once again reveals the shameless brutality of the colonial government: When the cannons had been sated with the flesh of the 'black' and 'yellow' soldiers, the sweet declarations of the rulers were suddenly silenced. Both the 'Negro' and 'Annamite' became nothing more than filthy beings.

Nguyễn Ái Quốc continued: To honor the Annamite soldiers, wasn’t all their property stolen, from their watches to their new clothes, which they had bought with their own money, as well as their personal mementos, before they were sent to Marseille to board ships back home? Weren’t they handed over to cruel guards who beat them without reason? Weren’t they fed like pigs and packed into dark, damp holds of the ships with no beds, no light, and no fresh air? And when they arrived home, weren’t they met by a colonial official who, after giving a patriotic speech, told them, 'You’ve protected the motherland, which is good. But now we no longer need you. Go away!'

Thus, the end of the war marked the open and brazen revelation of the colonial imperialists' hypocritical and inhumane nature. The colonized people were returned to their inferior status after being drained by the 'Blood Tax.' This was to be expected, for there is no justice or righteousness among the colonizers! Even more barbaric, the colonial government didn't hesitate to poison an entire nation to fill its coffers, distributing opium licenses to French soldiers and the families of fallen French soldiers.

The three sections of the 'Blood Tax' chapter are arranged chronologically: before, during, and after the First World War. This timeline structure fully exposes the false, hypocritical, and brutal nature of the colonial government’s exploitation of the 'Blood Tax.'

'Blood Tax' is a powerful, intense, and horrifying chapter, much like the scene in Hamlet when the king's ghost appears in the dead of night, filled with rage, calling for vengeance.

The Trial of the French Colonial Regime (Le Procès de la Colonisation Française) is a work by President Ho Chi Minh, written in French between 1921 and 1925, first published in Paris on the Imprékor newspaper of the Communist International.

The work comprises 12 chapters and an appendix, with concise and impactful writing, accompanied by compelling events that denounce the French colonizers' brutal methods in forcing the indigenous population to pay "blood taxes" for the colonial state... sending them to die on European battlefields, subjecting women and children in the colonies to inhumane suffering. The colonial governors and officials are portrayed as vicious beasts. The work had an immense impact from the moment it was released, awakening the conscience of those who valued freedom, equality, and fraternity, directing oppressed nations to follow the path of the Russian October Revolution and Marxism-Leninism, sparking the flame of struggle for independence, freedom, and socialism for the Vietnamese people.

In 1946, the work was published in French in Vietnam, in Hanoi. In 1960, the Sự Thật Publishing House published it for the first time in Vietnamese. The excerpt "Blood Taxes" is from Chapter I of The Trial of the French Colonial Regime. In this chapter, the author focuses on exposing the enemy's true nature, shedding light on the shame and suffering of the oppressed people, and calling for the colonial people to unite in resistance.

The excerpt immediately captivates the reader with its title: Blood Taxes. In reality, there is no tax called "blood tax"—there are only head taxes, rice taxes, salt taxes, etc. The term "blood tax" is used by the author to reflect the brutal exploitation tactics of the colonial regime in the colonies, where the people are treated as sacrificial pawns in unjust wars. Through this title, the writer conveys the tragic fate of the colonized, as well as his deep anger at the heinous crimes of the colonial government. The people of the colonies had to endure many unfair and unreasonable taxes, but perhaps the most brutal and savage one was the tax levied with their blood and lives.

The structure and naming of the sections in the "Blood Taxes" chapter also serve to expose the deceptive policies of exploitation imposed on the colonized population, draining them to the bone by the colonial authorities. From "War and the Natives" to "The Volunteer Soldier System" and then "The Consequences of Sacrifice," each section builds upon the other, with Nguyễn Ái Quốc gradually revealing the cannibalistic nature of the colonialists.

Section One: War and the Natives. Here, the author highlights the contrast in the colonial rulers' attitudes toward the indigenous people before and after the outbreak of war. Before the war, the colonizers viewed the natives as subhuman, no better than animals: "They are just filthy black men, dirty 'Annamites', who can only pull carts and get beaten by our rulers." But as soon as the war breaks out, the colonizers, needing soldiers, immediately transform the natives into "beloved children" and "close friends" of the benevolent rulers, even to the extent of calling them "soldiers protecting justice and freedom."

The author presents these contrasting attitudes to denounce the shameless manipulations of the colonial authorities, who turned the colonial subjects into sacrificial objects. The deceitful rhetoric of the colonizers is mocked and sharply criticized by Nguyễn Ái Quốc. The fate of the native soldiers in these unjust wars is depicted tragically: they are forced to leave their families, fight in distant lands to defend the homeland of foreign monsters, and perish in desolate places. In the rear, the colonial people also suffer terribly. Most are worked to exhaustion in munitions factories, inhaling toxic fumes, "coughing up pieces of their lungs."

The author concludes by providing a stark statistic to illustrate the tragic fate of the native people: "In total, seven hundred thousand natives set foot on French soil, and of them, eighty thousand never saw the sunlight again in their homeland." This horrific figure reveals the devastating toll of the First World War on the indigenous population, with 80,000 natives dying far from their homeland.

Section Two: The Volunteer Soldier System. Here, the author exposes the colonialist tactics of forcibly recruiting soldiers. The colonizers conducted raids and coercively conscripted people into the army, using the draft to intimidate and exploit the wealthy, and even imprisoning those who resisted. Despite these brutal actions, the colonial authorities continued to proclaim the natives' voluntary enlistment. The official declarations of the Indochina General Government only revealed the colonialists' deceit. They proclaimed: "The natives have eagerly enlisted, leaving their homeland to offer their blood as soldiers of the Red Armies, or dedicating their labor to the work of soldiers."

However, there was no voluntary sacrifice of blood as the colonial rulers claimed. The reality was that the natives either evaded the draft or had to pay bribes to avoid being conscripted. Some even resorted to self-harm to avoid being drafted. This deception of voluntary enlistment is sharply criticized. The author sarcastically exposes the colonialists' manipulative nature, using their own words and actions to dismantle their lies with real-life examples. The painful irony is clear in the author's voice, revealing the colonizers' callous disregard for the humanity of the native population.

The third section of the text delves into the consequences of the sacrifice. After the exploitation of their blood and sweat, what became of the native soldiers who fought in the wars? The colonizers treated them with contempt after their service, as if their sacrifice meant nothing. The author paints a grim picture of how the colonial regime abandoned them, turning a blind eye to their suffering. Once the cannons had had their fill of flesh, the colonizers' fine words ceased, and the indigenous people were once again treated as inferior beings. The government's abandonment of these soldiers exposes the colonial regime's hypocrisy and cruelty, as they exploit the natives' labor and lives, only to discard them when they are no longer useful.

The author uses numerous rhetorical questions to expose the inhumanity, duplicity, and cruelty of the colonial government. The three parts of the "Blood Taxes" chapter are arranged chronologically: before, during, and after the First World War (1914–1918). This structure lays bare the hypocritical and cruel nature of the French colonial government, thoroughly exposing their exploitation of the indigenous people and revealing the real conditions of colonial subjects.

The sharp wit and biting satire in Nguyễn Ái Quốc's writing are evident through his use of vivid imagery, emotionally charged language, and words that powerfully condemn the crimes of colonialism. The language of the work is full of irony, with phrases like "beloved children," "soldiers protecting justice and freedom," "gifting their blood to adorn wreaths," "offering their bones to make the rods of our rulers," and "speaking material..." These phrases not only expose the brutal nature of colonialism but also highlight the tragic fate of the colonized people.

Nguyễn Ái Quốc masterfully employs the technique of irony by repeating the grandiose terms and titles bestowed upon the colonial soldiers by the authorities, using these to expose the government’s fraudulent nature. He uses a series of rhetorical questions to contrast the false rhetoric of the colonizers with the stark reality, illustrating the lies and deceit of the colonial government. By including stories, events, and statistics drawn from real life, the author builds a compelling case that cannot be dismissed. The use of vivid examples and the author's deliberate emphasis on the undeniable truth add to the credibility of his argument.

In this excerpt, the combination of narrative and emotional elements makes the argumentative essay engaging and vivid. The system of imagery and the tone of the work clearly reflect the author's feelings of anger towards the brutal colonial government and deep sympathy for the suffering of the colonial subjects, who were exploited for their blood, sweat, and lives in unjust wars.

The "Blood Taxes" text by Nguyễn Ái Quốc lays bare the despicable and cowardly behavior of the colonial rulers toward the indigenous people before and after the war, while simultaneously expressing profound sympathy for the tragic fate of the colonial population in these unjust wars.

The indictment of the French colonial system by Nguyễn Ái Quốc is one of the most authentic condemnations of the brutal crimes committed by French colonizers, who used every possible means to oppress and exploit. The work consists of 12 chapters and an appendix, with Chapter 1 titled 'Blood Tax.' In this chapter, the author exposes the hypocritical and brutal tactics of the French colonizers, who sacrificed the lives of colonial subjects on the battlefield and enriched themselves by exploiting their blood and bones.

With tight reasoning, rich authentic resources, and vivid imagery, Nguyễn Ái Quốc reveals the true face of French colonialism. The tone of the writing is a mix of harsh condemnation, bitter sarcasm, and sympathy. First and foremost, the term 'blood tax' carries profound meaning. It evokes the tragic fate of the colonial people and expresses the rage against the revolting crimes of the colonial government. These people were forced to pay unreasonable and unjust taxes, but the most ruthless tax of all was one that was paid with their blood and bones. This blood tax was far too expensive, as it was paid with the lives of the colonial subjects, revealing the cruel and greedy nature of the colonial authorities.

This chapter is divided into three clear parts, each named to highlight its content: 'War of the Natives,' 'Volunteer Soldier System,' and 'The Result of Sacrifice.' The sequence and naming of these parts expose the deceptive and exploitative policies that stripped the colonial people to the bone under the colonial regime. The titles unfold one by one, gradually revealing the colonialists' 'man-eating' nature. The first part, 'War of the Natives,' shows the contrast in the colonial authorities' attitude towards the colonial people before and after the outbreak of war. Initially, they were treated as subhuman, likened to animals, with no voice. 'They were nothing but dirty black men, 'Anamit' dirt, at best only capable of pulling rickshaws and enduring blows from our colonial rulers.'

The colonial people were looked down upon and mercilessly oppressed. However, when war broke out, the colonizers quickly changed their attitude. They needed people to fight, but in reality, they saw them as mere pawns to serve as shields in battle. These once 'dirty, dark' people were suddenly elevated to 'beloved children' and 'dear friends' of the rulers, even to the highest-ranking officials. They were granted the prestigious title of 'soldiers defending justice and liberty.' How fake and revolting these words seemed, reflecting the duplicity of the colonizers. The author contrasts these opposing views to expose their vile tactics of using the colonial people as sacrificial lambs. The shamelessness of their deceitful rhetoric is highlighted by Nguyễn Ái Quốc's sharp satire.

The tragic fate of the colonial people is vividly depicted in the lines, 'They had to abruptly leave their wives, children, farms, or herds, crossing the ocean to die on the battlefields of Europe. Not only did they die on the battlefield, but they were also sacrificed in other ways, such as 'plunging to the ocean's depths to protect the monsters' homeland, or left to rot in the wild, idyllic Balkans.' Countless other deaths followed. What would their families receive after their deaths? Perhaps nothing at all. Those who were not sent to the frontlines were equally tormented, barely surviving (by working in arms factories for the war effort), enduring exhaustion in the filthy gunpowder factories, inhaling toxic fumes from the French factory workers. They suffered from diseases and painful deaths, as the poor wretches expelled their lungs, almost as if choking on poison fumes.

When the author tallies the number of dead in France, the number reaches 80,000. These people would never again see the light of their homeland, dying in vain for the selfish and greedy colonial administration. The second part, 'Volunteer Soldier System,' uncovers the colonizers' tricks. Is it true that the colonial people willingly offered their blood and bones to the 'Motherland of Greater France,' as the government claimed? Of course not. We endured unreasonable taxes, like the mandatory labor services and being forced to buy alcohol and opium. It was unjust, yet we had to bear the extra burden of the soldier tax. The recent upheavals were just an excuse for the colonizers to conscript soldiers from the colonies. When captured, the colonial subjects were labeled with names such as 'red-caped soldiers,' 'professional soldiers,' and 'non-professional soldiers.'

The colonizers treated them as mere materials that could talk, equal to objects they despised, while making them sell their blood and sweat for the colonizers. The way they were addressed revealed the colonizers' deceptive, brutal nature. They transformed human beings into tools for their exploitation. The value of human life was degraded, but the colonizers painted themselves as benevolent, claiming these actions were for the noble cause of France. They were ready to sacrifice these 'volunteers.' Yes, 'volunteers,' as we witnessed them forcibly taking healthy, poor people (who could only endure in silence) and later, the wealthy, who were offered two choices: pay money or become a 'volunteer soldier.'

This is the image they called 'voluntary service,' a scene of people being bound like animals, brutally oppressed. Yet, they had the audacity to proudly declare, 'You have eagerly enlisted, you are not hesitant to leave your beloved homeland to either donate your blood and bones as red-caped soldiers or offer your labor as worker soldiers.' Through rhetorical questions, the author bitterly mocks this fraudulent rhetoric: 'If the people of Annam are truly so eager to enlist, why do we see scenes where some are shackled with wine bottles and brought to town, while others are locked in schools in Saigon, guarded by French soldiers with drawn bayonets and ready rifles? The protests in Cambodia, the uprisings in Saigon, in Biên Hòa, and many other places—are these signs of 'eager enlistment' and 'willingness to serve?' These images starkly contradict the colonizers' words, exposing their deceitful and vile nature.

Finally, Part 3: 'The Result of Sacrifice.' When the cannons had exhausted their supply of 'black and yellow flesh,' the once-eloquent proclamations of the colonial rulers suddenly fell silent as if by magic, and both the Negroes and Annamites returned to their dirty, subhuman status. Just before, they had been hailed as 'supreme soldiers defending justice,' but now, once they had been exploited and used, they were discarded like obsolete tools. Moreover, to remember the sacrifice of the Annamite soldiers, the colonizers stripped them of all their possessions, from their wristwatches and new clothes they had bought with their own money, to all their mementos, before they boarded the ships back home...

There were countless despicable actions and betrayals. Upon returning home, they resumed their former lowly status as 'dirty people,' while before, they had been called 'dear friends,' 'beloved children.' The hypocrisy of the colonial government was revealed through actions such as stripping the colonial subjects of their belongings, mercilessly beating them for no reason, and treating them like animals. The three parts of this chapter are arranged in a logical sequence (before, during, and after World War I), through which the false and cruel nature of the colonial administration is fully exposed.

Moreover, the tragic fate of the colonial people is vividly and authentically portrayed. Nguyễn Ái Quốc's sharp satire and the use of vivid imagery and emotionally charged language reveal the true nature of French colonial crimes. The author skillfully employs the technique of 'reversing the mirror' when referencing the glorious terms and titles bestowed upon the colonial people by the colonial government, in order to expose their cruel and inhumane nature. Additionally, the continuous use of rhetorical questions exposes their deceitful and fraudulent behavior, followed by concrete images and figures that cannot be denied. Through the system of images and Nguyễn Ái Quốc's tone, we can see his deep outrage at the colonial government's crimes and his heartfelt sympathy for the suffering of the colonial people.

The excerpt 'Blood Tax' reveals the true nature of the colonial government and the suffering of the people. It also demonstrates the boundless love that Nguyễn Ái Quốc had for his people and for the colonial people in general. Nguyễn Ái Quốc was indeed a brilliant writer and an excellent political writer for our country. With compelling arguments and authentic evidence, he powerfully depicted the injustices that the colonial people had to endure.

As an investigative journalistic piece, "The Judgment of the French Colonial System" is a work of press literature. Its persuasive power lies in the facts: numbers, witnesses, statistics—undeniable truths. The author maintains an objective position, avoiding exaggeration. However, on another level, the work is deeply rooted in literary art, using evocative imagery, ironic tone, and satire. This fusion of genres delivers an unexpected impact: it exposes colonialism, revealing the miserable lives of colonized peoples. The undercurrents of anger (toward colonialism) and affection (toward colonized peoples) represent a deep, powerful yearning for independence, freedom, and the spirit of resistance. The eloquent pen of the writer mirrors that of a revolutionary fighter.

The term "Blood Tax" is an impressive, evocative title. It refers to a senseless, brutal exploitation, a direct assault on the lives of colonized people. To imperialists, war serves as a quick route to wealth, draining the blood and life of the indigenous peoples under the guise of "civilizing" or "protecting" them. These wars, bringing vast profits, involve not only the exploitation of labor but also the gruesome extraction of blood. This cruelty, revealed for the first time in the press, exposes the colonialists' true nature: savage beasts masquerading as civilized. Their inhumanity is laid bare in front of the court of conscience. The structuring of the chapters in the beginning of the work follows both a chronological logic and an artistic approach. The opening and closing images, akin to the brick kiln in Nam Cao's "Chí Phèo," create a jarring effect in the reader’s mind, showing how the colonized suffer for imperialist wars—an entirely futile sacrifice. The colonialists' deceit is no longer concealed by any façade or euphemism.

War and the "Natives." In the eyes of the colonialists, the indigenous people are merely "dirty black men" or "filthy Annamese," supposedly disconnected from the wars, unaware of them, only knowing how to "pull rickshaws and endure the blows of our rulers." Thus, when unexpectedly bestowed with an honor or title, they cannot comprehend it. War erupts, and they become sacrificial victims, subjected to a tax not defined in any law: the blood tax. Modern imperialists differ from their predecessors; they are more cunning. They no longer openly mock or belittle their subjects but deceive them with sweet words. Forced into compliance (with threats of whips and prisons), these ordinary people fall into tragic fates: separated from their families and homeland, sacrificed for the interests and honor of the rulers. Those left behind, whether soldiers or civilians, are caught in a situation where "it doesn’t matter"—they are all in it together for a war "to protect justice and freedom" that they themselves will never experience. The ironic tone, especially in the absurd and contradictory relations depicted, causes a profound, yet bitter, humor in the reader’s mind. Furthermore, the European literary style, particularly French literature, has brought Vietnamese literature closer to world literature, marking this work as the first.

The Volunteer Soldier System. The very phrase "volunteer soldier system" is a sarcastic label, masking an opposite reality. After the conscription process was completed, the Indochina governor general proudly declared, "You have eagerly enlisted, leaving your homes to offer your blood and bones as Red soldiers, while others have given their labor as worker-soldiers." This false narrative was a shameful distortion by the authorities, manipulating public opinion to their advantage. Yet, it was precisely because the writer saw this deception as a grave insult—not only to their lives but to their human dignity—that they immediately exposed the sinister intent behind these pompous words. The gentle tone hides the brutal truth, exposing the hypocrisy of the colonial rulers: "If the Annamites truly enlisted with enthusiasm, why then were some shackled and transported to provincial capitals, while others were locked in schools in Saigon, guarded by French soldiers with bayonets drawn and loaded guns?" The repeated questions reveal the writer’s condemnation of forced conscription, describing violent protests and uprisings as expressions of resistance, not enthusiasm for the war.

The propaganda surrounding conscription starkly contrasts with the harsh reality of its execution. For the provincial governors (whom the author mockingly calls "province lords"), issuing a decree on numbers and deadlines was a simple task. No need for detailed instructions or guidance. The author observes with pointed irony, "How they managed it doesn’t matter. The officials will just figure it out." This kicks off a chain reaction, as lower-ranking officials enthusiastically join in, knowing how to exploit the situation, particularly when money is involved. The tragedy lies in the conscripted soldiers’ fate, forced to choose between "serving in the army or paying bribes"—an impossible choice that highlights the ruthlessness of the colonial system.

The Results of Sacrifice. The end of war is not signified by the silence of cannons after "the bodies of black and yellow men have been exhausted," but by the silence of "our rulers." The authorities are silent because the lives of those who survived are now worthless, mere relics to be discarded. In the eyes of the rulers, they are no longer "soldiers protecting justice and freedom" but have returned to being "filthy creatures."

The sacrifices of these pitiful people are not entirely forgotten. However, the way the authorities "remember" them is entirely unexpected. Their lives and property, earned through the "blood tax" of war, are stripped away by the rulers. These people are treated like animals before being welcomed back to their homeland with speeches filled with hollow nationalist rhetoric: "You’ve defended the homeland, that’s good. Now, we don’t need you anymore, go away!" Meanwhile, French soldiers (and their families) are rewarded with opium licenses. The author concludes with the sentiment that the only appropriate response to such "gifts" would be to "spit in the face of the giver," just as Phan Bội Châu did to French Governor-General Varen (as discussed in "Varen and Phan Bội Châu: The Foolish Games" by Nguyễn Ái Quốc).

In terms of literary technique, the most striking feature of this piece is its satirical style: the use of satirical language, ironic tone, structure, and argumentation to achieve its mocking purpose. The author employs a direct and confrontational approach, exposing the deceitful intentions of those who deceive the people, cornering them with no escape. This approach is deeply literary, delving into the profound depths of irony.

On the path to finding a way to save his nation, Nguyễn Ái Quốc, the great leader of the Vietnamese people, the revered Father of the Nation, has always fought relentlessly against the deceitful, cruel colonialists. His contributions were multifaceted, and with all his strength, he used literature as a powerful weapon to serve his noble goals. Many timeless works were left behind, among which “Blood Tax” stands out as a significant piece.

From the very title “blood tax,” we are immediately reminded of a tragic, bloody massacre. This is the blood of our people, shed under the brutal whips and lashes of the vile French colonizers as they invaded our land. It also reflects a deep sense of anger and hatred as we witness the oppression of our people reaching its extreme.

The excerpt, with its three-part structure, exposes the fraudulent policies that stripped the colonial subjects to their bones under the exploitative colonial rule. This reveals the “man-eating” nature of the despicable colonizers. The first part indicts the theme: war and the native people. Here, the author highlights the stark contrast in the attitudes of the colonial officials before and after the war. Before the war, in ordinary times, the native people were seen as inferior, ignorant, and filthy with the derogatory label “dirty Annamese,” “good only for pulling carts and taking beatings from the ruling officials.”

However, when war breaks out, they are suddenly honored with the lofty title of “defenders of justice and freedom.” The ruling officials, who had once looked down upon them, now seduce, praise, and treat them like precious jewels, but in reality, they were only being groomed as human shields for the colonizers in the harsh battlefield. The author exposes these contradictions and reveals the ghastly, deceptive face of these parasitic beings with a tone that is not loud but gently ironic, enough to deeply reveal their true, bloodthirsty nature.

The author cites specific numbers regarding the deaths of the native people in the unjust colonial wars: “A total of seven hundred thousand natives set foot in France, and of them, eight hundred thousand never saw the sunlight of their homeland again.” The second part of the text covers: the volunteer soldier system. In this section, Nguyễn Ái Quốc blatantly exposes the despicable, deceptive nature of the colonizers as they implemented their forced conscription system. They carried out brutal crackdowns and forced the colonial subjects to fight. If they refused, the colonizers had enough cruel methods to coerce them, such as tying, imprisoning, and beating them... And for wealthier families, they would never be left in peace but were extorted for money in exchange for leniency.

However, the absurd reality is that while they were carrying out these barbaric policies, they still spread the false narrative about the people's voluntary enlistment. The statement from the French colonial government only further exposed their ridiculous and deceptive nature: “You’ve rushed to enlist, without hesitation to leave your homeland with love, some offered their blood and bones like the Red Flag soldiers, others volunteered their working arms like the labor soldiers.”

This reveals the true face behind the word “voluntary,” a concept that the despicable colonizers used to hide their violent conscription tactics. The mocking tone and clever use of the words of the French colonial governor only highlight the absurdity of the farce they were performing. Then, we still feel moved and saddened, as the people’s land of slavery is being trampled upon, with starvation and suffering all around.

“Blood Tax” serves as an indictment, a clear testament to the despicable and vile nature of the French colonizers. It is also a vivid portrayal of the life of the Annamese people at that time and a profound expression of patriotic love woven into every word.

Using literature as a powerful tool in the struggle, we are reminded of the heroic works in the "Quân trung từ mệnh tập" by Nguyễn Trãi. Following in the footsteps of the previous generation, during the great national resistance, President Hồ Chí Minh skillfully employed political writing as a weapon in the battle against injustice. The excerpt from "Blood Tax" in the "Colonial Regime of French Imperialism" reveals his sharp political style. Nguyễn Ái Quốc’s keen logical reasoning is clearly displayed in the structured titles of each section. "Blood Tax" not only portrays the tragic fate of colonial subjects but also exposes the viciousness of French imperialism toward them.

Through this, the author’s emotions are laid bare: a deep sympathy for the suffering of the people and a profound hatred for the colonial oppressors. Additionally, the choice of section titles is noteworthy: "War and the Indigenous People", "The Volunteer Soldier Regime", and "The Outcome of Sacrifice". The titles, arranged chronologically—before, during, and after the war—effectively expose the pretentious and hypocritical face of the colonial regime while emphasizing their extreme brutality. On the other hand, these titles also reveal the tragic fate of the colonized people.

Diving deeper into the work, we see that never before had the lives of colonized peoples been so belittled and dehumanized. In the eyes of the rulers, they were no different from cattle. When war broke out, they were immediately conscripted, forced to part from their families and sacrifice their lives on foreign battlefields in Europe. Nguyễn Ái Quốc’s words penetrate to the core of every life lost: "sent to the depths of the sea to protect the homeland from monstrous threats" or "some perished in the desolate lands of the Balkans" and "others became victims of ruthless slaughter…"

Not only the soldiers at the front but also the civilians who remained at home had to suffer tragic deaths in the arms factories, producing weapons for the war. The number of deaths on the battlefield is truly staggering—up to 800,000 indigenous lives lost. Yet, why did they fight and die? For an illusory title? For rights they would never enjoy? These native people perished on French soil, never to see their homeland again. Even those who survived were left crippled, carrying the scars of war and living out their lives in servitude until death.

Although the war ended, French colonialists still sought ways to poison the minds of the native people. They used deceitful tactics such as selling harmful medicine to French war veterans and the families of deceased soldiers. This sinister trick led to the poisoning of an entire nation. At this point, Hồ Chí Minh’s words grow even sharper as he lays bare the despicable nature of the colonial government: "To remember the deeds of the Annamese soldiers, did they not strip them of all their belongings—from their watches, their new clothes, to every souvenir they had bought before boarding the ship to return to their country?"

The "Colonial Regime of French Imperialism" in general and "Blood Tax" in particular are masterpieces of political writing, with sharp language and a tone of biting sarcasm. Behind this rhetoric lies the blood and tears of the oppressed people, soaking through every page. The work is a fierce condemnation of the cruel colonial regime that trampled upon the basic rights and freedoms of humankind.

The work “The Judgment of the French Colonial Regime” was written by Nguyễn Ái Quốc in French while he was in France and was first published in Paris in 1925. The work exposes and condemns the heinous crimes of French colonialism, while reflecting the humiliating and painful lives of enslaved people in the colonies worldwide.

The excerpt Blood Tax is taken from Chapter I of “The Judgment of the French Colonial Regime.” The titles in this section are War and the Natives; The Volunteer Soldier System; The Results of Sacrifice. The first part of the text is entitled War and the Natives. It discusses the plight of the Annamites and Black slaves who were used as cannon fodder by the French colonizers, subjected to brutal treatment.

Before the war, the native youth were nothing more than filthy Black men, filthy Annamites who only knew how to work as coolies, pulling carts, and enduring beatings from their colonial masters. However, once the war erupted, the colonizers employed every trick to deceive and turn them into beloved companions of the rulers. Not only that, they were honored with the title of defenders of justice and freedom. Nguyễn Ái Quốc skillfully employed contrast to expose the deceitful tone of the colonialists. In reality, the colonizers turned them into cannon fodder, cleverly imposing a 'blood tax.' The phrases like ‘joyful war,’ ‘immediately they became,’ and ‘all of a sudden, granted the highest title’ make the sarcastic tone of the writing even more biting and mocking.

Nguyễn Ái Quốc highlighted the tragic losses of the native youth conscripted to fight. They had to leave behind their wives and children, their homeland, fields, and flocks of sheep. They went to meet death on the battlefields of Europe. Countless scenes of death and suffering unfolded. They died from depth charges: they were sent to the bottom of the sea to protect the homeland of sea monsters; their bodies were left in desolate areas of the Balkans, dying while wondering if the motherland sought to claim the throne of the harem of the Sultan. Their blood and death were utterly meaningless, either heroically offering themselves for slaughter on the banks of the Marne River, in the swamps of Sampanhơ, or using their blood to water the wreaths of the generals and their bones to adorn the staffs of colonial governors. The author combines vivid descriptions with sharp commentary to mock and ridicule the colonialists' blood tax.

The soldiers who weren’t left to die on the battlefields were poisoned instead, forced into backbreaking labor, and worked to exhaustion in the horrid munitions factories, inhaling toxic fumes. These unfortunate people coughed up pieces of their lungs as though they had inhaled suffocating gases! This was the grim contribution of the native people to the war.

The numbers under Nguyễn Ái Quốc's pen hold real meaning. Out of the seven hundred thousand who left, eighty thousand would never again see the sun of their homeland. The tragic fate and losses of the natives were vividly expressed through the statistics Nguyễn Ái Quốc presented.

Nguyễn Ái Quốc successfully used artistic techniques like contrast, a combination of description and commentary, and the use of statistics, especially employing a biting, sarcastic tone to expose and condemn the crimes of the colonizers. Throughout eighty years of ruling over our country, the French colonists imposed hundreds of ridiculous taxes to exploit our people to the bone. By reading the excerpt Blood Tax, we learn about a unique tax that the colonizers imposed on our people.

Nguyen Ai Quoc is a great leader, a revered father figure of the nation. He was a revolutionary and the founder of the Communist Party of Vietnam, one of the key figures in establishing the foundations and leading the struggle for national liberation and territorial integrity for the Vietnamese people. A person of great talent, with literary prowess, Nguyen Ai Quoc used his writing as a weapon in the fight for independence. His works have left a profound impression on readers and dealt strong blows to imperialist and colonial forces. One of the most well-known works internationally is "Blood Tax". The work was written during his revolutionary activities in France and served as a lethal blow to the colonial powers. It clearly exposes the true face of the French colonial rulers, showing how the colonial administration turned local people into sacrificial pawns to serve the interests of the brutal wars of conquest.

The title "Blood Tax" evokes the image of bloody wars and massacres. In this work, it refers to the blood of colonial subjects exploited and oppressed to the bone by imperialist colonizers. At the same time, the title reflects the author’s anger and disgust at the inhumane treatment of his people.

In the opening of the work, the author compares the attitudes of colonial rulers towards native people before and after the outbreak of war. Before the war, they were considered inferior beings, filthy black people—this was the derogatory language used to describe the Vietnamese. They were seen as mere slaves to the ruling class. The colonizers, believing the white race to be superior, created a racial divide to justify their discrimination.

Colonial subjects were seen as little more than beasts of burden, only fit to be whipped by the colonial rulers. When the "joyful" war began, the author ironically uses the term "joyful" to mock World War I, where imperialist powers fought over territories. The fate of colonial people suddenly changed. They were elevated in status and considered "pets" and "friends" by their colonial masters, even being promoted to the title of "defenders of justice and freedom".

This title, which should have meant honor, actually held no real privileges for the colonized. Instead, it was a hollow title, signifying nothing but the deceptive cruelty of colonialism. The author’s sarcastic tone highlights the hypocrisy and evil nature of the colonial regime.

Under the oppressive rule of colonizers, the fate of the native people was tragic, and the author paints this grim picture with his masterful pen. They were denied all rights and forced to leave their homes and families, to work tirelessly in toxic munitions factories, their lungs choked with poison. They died on the battlefields of Europe, drowned at sea to protect the imperialist interests of the colonizers, or perished in the desolate Balkans, giving their blood to decorate the imperial crown. The result: eighty thousand never saw the sunlight of their homeland again. It begs the question: why did the colonizers have the power to determine the life and death of innocent people? The colonized were nothing more than sacrifices for their rulers. This was the miserable fate of slaves under colonialism, exposed by the author.

Then, the author reveals the devious tricks of the colonizers. They conducted large-scale searches across Indochina, using every possible method to extract money. They targeted the strong, helpless individuals, who could do nothing but die in silence. The wealthy were given two choices: either join the army or pay a fee. Those sent to the army either fled or intentionally made themselves ill to avoid the draft, as the thought of being conscripted was even worse than illness. The colonial government deceitfully promised them honors, such as posthumous decorations for the fallen or praise like "you have bravely joined the army, leaving your homeland behind."

These were all lies, mere deceptions. The reality was that they were shackled and imprisoned, with violence breaking out as a result. The author sarcastically critiques these false promises with compelling rhetorical questions: "If the Annamites were truly excited to enlist, why were some chained and transported to the provinces, while others were locked in a high school in Saigon, guarded by soldiers with drawn bayonets and loaded rifles? Were the bloody protests in Cambodia, the riots in Saigon, Bien Hoa, and many other places truly the result of people eagerly volunteering to serve in the army?" The author strips away the colonialist’s mask, exposing their greed and cruelty.

The suffering of the colonial people in the wars was immense, and the author vividly captures this pain with sharp and poignant language: "When the cannons had had their fill of black and yellow flesh, the noble proclamations of our colonial rulers fell silent, as if by some divine miracle, and both the Negroes and Annamites were once again seen as filthy creatures." Or the way their bodies were stripped bare, their watches and clothes stolen, before being sent to Marseilles, shoved onto ships back home—was this not a clear sign of the inhuman treatment they received? Were they not forced to eat like pigs and packed into the filthy, airless hold of the ships like livestock? Upon their return, were they not welcomed by a colonial officer with a speech saying, "You have defended the country. We no longer need you. Go away!"?

Thus, through his biting rhetoric, rhetorical questions, and repeated contradictions, the author exposes the hypocrisy, brutality, and inhumanity of the colonial rulers towards the colonized people. The colonial government treated returning soldiers as if they were criminals or animals, rather than honoring them for their sacrifice. This treatment is the ultimate betrayal of a country that prides itself on being the "mother country" of its colonies.

With rich, vivid imagery, a sharp, sarcastic tone, and biting irony, the work serves as a powerful condemnation of the French colonial regime. It also reveals the savage, cruel nature of colonialism, where innocent colonial subjects were treated as expendable pawns. The author also expresses deep sympathy for the plight of his people, while showcasing his literary mastery in exposing the horrors of colonialism.

Blood tax serves as the grim opening chapter of "The Verdict on French Colonialism." With the noble pen of Nguyễn Ái Quốc, the tragic fate of colonized people unfolds, stirring deep feelings of compassion and sorrow within the reader.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the colonies of Asia, Africa, and Latin America languished in the suffocating darkness of slavery and oppression. The colonial rule was incredibly brutal and cruel, with hundreds of unfair and unreasonable taxes imposed:

The various taxes increased endlessly

First, the land tax, then the tax on cattle

Tax on firewood, tax on slaughtered pigs

Tax on salt, wine, boats, carts…

(Á tế ca).

But the most brutal and heartless of them all was the blood tax – the extraction of the very lifeblood and lives of the colonized people, a practice that Nguyễn Ái Quốc vividly exposes.

Never before had the lives of colonial people been so devalued. Through Nguyễn Ái Quốc's writing, the reader witnesses a cascade of painful tragedies. His tone, simultaneously ironic, mocking, yet filled with bitter sorrow, reflects his profound humanity. More than anyone else, Nguyễn Ái Quốc understood the deep love for his homeland that the native people held. To them, their cattle, their gardens, were everything. Yet, they had to suddenly leave their families, to sacrifice their lives on the battlefields of Europe. Reading this, one's heart is gripped with sorrow.

But what is the value of this sorrow? Nguyễn Ái Quốc continues, depicting in detail the heartbreaking deaths of the colonial soldiers on the European battlefields: while crossing the seas, many native soldiers, after witnessing the scientific demonstration of torpedo launches, were sent to the depths of the sea to protect the homeland against sea monsters. Others died in the desolate, picturesque lands of the Balkans, wondering if their motherland had wanted to replace the sultana in the harem of the Turkish king – otherwise, why were they sent to perish in such distant lands? Still others heroically gave their lives to be slaughtered on the banks of the Marne River or in the swamps of Sampanho, watering the laurels of the officers and serving as the bones that adorned the commanders' staffs.

Not only the soldiers, even the civilians who did not directly go to war faced brutal deaths in the arms factories serving the war effort. Countless tragic deaths led to the staggering figure: seven hundred thousand native people stepped onto French soil, and of that number, eighty thousand would never again see the sun in their homeland. Eighty thousand natives perished for hollow honors they would never receive, for rights they would never enjoy.

What about the rest? Even those who survived returned only to drag their shattered bodies back to a life of servitude, under a regime that knew nothing of justice or righteousness. When the cannons had grown tired of their flesh, both black and yellow, the promises of the authorities ceased as though by magic, and both the Negroes and the Annamites were treated as "filthy races."

Nguyễn Ái Quốc continues: To honor the sacrifices of the Annamese soldiers, were they not stripped of all their possessions, from their watches, new clothes bought with their own money, to their personal keepsakes, before being shipped back to their homeland? Were they not handed over to savage guards who beat them for no reason? Were they not fed like pigs and cramped like livestock in the damp holds of the ships, without beds, light, or air? Upon returning to their homeland, were they not greeted by an official who thanked them with a patriotic speech: 'You have defended the country, and that is good. Now we no longer need you, go away!' Is this not the height of injustice and cruelty? But the nightmare did not end there. The war had ended, but the suffering continued. A whole nation was poisoned as the colonial authorities issued opium permits to French war veterans and the families of deceased soldiers.

In the subsequent chapters of "The Verdict on French Colonialism," Nguyễn Ái Quốc continues to describe the hardships endured by the colonized people: a black man executed, a Vietnamese father and son selling fruit who were scalded with boiling water by French sailors while they laughed cruelly, and the humiliation suffered by native women...

It can be said that "The Verdict on French Colonialism" is soaked in the blood and tears of the colonized. The anguished cries of the oppressed call for others to shed blood, rise up, and overthrow the colonial powers to claim their right to live.