Jane Fonda has been a lightning rod for controversy for decades, and her name still sparks sharp debates across political and cultural lines. A recent Fox News interview with former Trump aide Stephen Miller reignited long-standing arguments about Fonda’s actions during the Vietnam War, raising questions about how history should remember her and how her past should shape perceptions of her activism today.
During the interview, Miller did not hold back. He referred to Fonda’s 1972 trip to North Vietnam as an act of treason, claiming that her presence and actions directly aided enemy propaganda. He reminded viewers of the infamous photograph of Fonda seated on an anti-aircraft gun—an image that outraged American veterans and earned her the enduring nickname “Hanoi Jane.” For Miller and many others who opposed her during that era, the photograph was not just a symbolic gesture but a betrayal of American soldiers risking their lives overseas.
Miller highlighted how Fonda participated in broadcasts that criticized the U.S. military and expressed solidarity with the North Vietnamese cause. He insisted that such actions should not be brushed aside as youthful mistakes but remembered as deliberate choices with far-reaching consequences. His central argument was blunt: if Fonda’s actions amounted to treason, should she still be celebrated as an activist and cultural icon?
The Fox News segment sought to connect the controversies of the past with Fonda’s present-day activism. In recent years, the now-octogenarian actress has become a vocal opponent of fossil fuel projects, staging protests against oil pipelines and calling on political leaders to adopt stronger climate policies. Miller suggested that her activism today cannot be separated from her record in the 1970s, framing her as a figure who has consistently opposed U.S. institutions and priorities, whether military or economic.
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Fonda herself has long acknowledged the lasting damage of the Hanoi photograph. She has repeatedly stated that sitting on the anti-aircraft gun was a grave mistake and one she has regretted for decades. Still, she has maintained that her trip to Vietnam was motivated by opposition to a war she viewed as unjust, and she has never retracted her criticisms of American policy in Southeast Asia. Miller, however, dismissed her apologies as insufficient. He argued that regret for a single photo cannot erase what he described as a broader pattern of disloyalty.
The resurfacing of these debates is not new. For U.S. veterans and their families, Fonda’s actions in 1972 remain an open wound, one that complicates any effort to separate her Hollywood career and later activism from her role in one of America’s most divisive wars. To this day, some veterans’ organizations refuse to work with her, while others insist that the fury directed at her is disproportionate compared to the political failures of the era’s leaders.
Fonda’s defenders argue that her critics reduce a lifetime of activism to a single moment. They point out that she has consistently championed progressive causes, from civil rights and women’s equality to environmentalism and climate justice. Her work has inspired younger generations of activists, and she has often used her fame to draw attention to issues that might otherwise be ignored. To them, the persistence of the “Hanoi Jane” label is a reflection of political grudges rather than a balanced assessment of her contributions.
Her more recent activism has targeted the energy industry, particularly pipeline projects that she argues endanger the environment and accelerate climate change. She has staged sit-ins, joined mass protests, and openly criticized both Republican and Democratic administrations for failing to act with urgency. Earlier this year, she directed her criticism at President Joe Biden, urging him to go further in halting projects like the Keystone pipeline. When Biden revoked the Keystone XL permit, Fonda welcomed the decision but pressed for broader action, showing she remains a force in political activism even at 83.
Miller’s comments underscore the ongoing struggle over how America remembers its most controversial figures. For some, Jane Fonda will always be defined by that moment in 1972, sitting on an anti-aircraft battery in Hanoi. For others, her later regrets and decades of activism suggest a more complicated legacy, one that cannot be reduced to a single photograph.
What is undeniable is that Fonda continues to provoke debate. Her critics see betrayal, her supporters see courage, and the wider public is left to grapple with what it means to protest during times of war and national division. The Fox News interview tapped into that unresolved tension, reminding the country that old wounds still shape contemporary politics.
In the end, Jane Fonda’s legacy may depend less on the judgments of politicians or commentators and more on how future generations view the intersection of celebrity, activism, and dissent. For now, she remains what she has always been: a woman unafraid to take sides, no matter how unpopular, and a symbol of how activism can both inspire and divide.
