The Work Behind a Historic Visit: Remembering President Obama’s 2016 Trip to Laos
By Channapha Khamvongsa, Founder, Legacies of War
President Barack Obama’s historic visit to Laos in September 2016 was years, if not decades, in the making. Arguably the most significant diplomatic milestone in U.S.-Lao relations, it was the culmination of years of persistence by people across governments and civil society, united by the belief that the past need not define the future of our two countries.
At Legacies of War, we spent years bringing the legacy of the American Secret War and the unexploded ordnance (UXO) crisis into the U.S. policy conversation. A pivotal moment came in July 2012, when Secretary of State Hillary Clinton visited Laos—the first Secretary of State to do so since John Foster Dulles in 1955.
Before her visit, we mobilized former U.S. ambassadors to Laos to urge the Secretary to address the UXO crisis. We also worked closely with journalists traveling with the delegation, equipping them with background materials, facts, and contacts to bring the issue into the spotlight. By the time Secretary Clinton arrived, the legacy of the war had become a prominent part of the visit. This helped broaden the world's understanding of Laos beyond the familiar narratives of communism and human rights, bringing greater attention to its people, history, and culture, as well as the enduring legacy of war and the resilience of those who have lived through it.
That groundwork helped pave the way for President Obama's visit four years later. Years of advocacy had built relationships and credibility with key officials in the State Department, Congress, and eventually the White House. As discussions took shape, Legacies of War was invited to contribute to conversations with the State Department and National Security Council about potential commitments to Laos. I also participated in a meeting with Ben Rhodes, Obama’s National Security Advisor, on one of his trips to Laos. Timing also mattered: Laos was preparing to chair ASEAN in 2016, creating an important diplomatic opportunity.
The result was a historic visit and a significant, sustained U.S. commitment of $90 million to address unexploded ordnance in Laos. Equally important was President Obama’s acknowledgment of America's legacy in Laos: “America’s intervention here in Laos was a secret to the American people . . . We have a profound moral and humanitarian obligation to support this work.” Yet he also offered a vision for what could come next: “History does not have to drive us apart; it can sometimes pull us together.”
His words marked an important turning point, but acknowledgment and commitment were only the beginning. The work of healing the legacy of war—and building a different future between our two countries—would take far longer than any single visit or funding commitment.
Legacies of War's new leadership, Sera Koulabdara and Danae Hendrickson, have done remarkable work to carry this mission forward—keeping the issue visible, broadening its focus across Southeast Asia, and building new support. Administrations come and go. Congresses change. But the work, and the responsibility behind it, remain. There is a quiet power in persistence—in the steady, determined efforts of even a small group of people who refuse to let an issue fade from view.
When I think back to Laos in 2016, one image remains vivid: a long line of mostly young people, waiting with anticipation in the soft drizzle for a glimpse of President Obama. Standing among them, I felt something shift—a quiet cleansing, a sense of renewal. In that moment, I was reminded of what America can be, and what it can mean to the world: a belief that every person matters, that every voice deserves to be seen and heard, and that change, however difficult, is always possible.
That is why we must take time to celebrate—not simply to mark how far we have come, but to remember what made the journey possible and renew our commitment to what lies ahead. We celebrate to remind ourselves that change can happen, that seemingly impossible things can become real, and that our collective efforts matter. History is long, but memory is fragile. We must keep telling these stories, carrying them forward, and doing the work. The future is not yet decided.
