In 1975, thousands of babies were daringly airlifted from the Vietnam war
It is April 4, 1975, a beautiful, sunny day in Saigon – soon to be renamed Ho Chi Minh City. But there is violence and turmoil in the air. The Vietnam War is in its final weeks, and North Vietnamese forces have surrounded the city, inciting chaos as the South Vietnamese populace and its US allies scramble to evacuate those most at risk of reprisals.
Untold numbers will ultimately be left behind, but more than 100,000 politicians, military figures, and others associated with the now-rapidly losing side will be airlifted for resettlement. Among the latter are dozens of orphaned infants and children, many of whom are 'Amerasians' born of relationships between Vietnamese mothers and American soldiers, now destined for placement with families in the United States and other countries around the world.
In one plane – a hulking C-5A US military transporter – 'the children were secured two to a seat in the troop compartment,' wrote lieutenant flight nurse Regina Aune, who was on the flight. Those in the cargo compartment 'were placed on blankets and secured to the floor with litter straps and cargo tie-down straps', she explained in her book, Operation Babylift: Mission Accomplished, published in 2015 to mark the mission's 40th anniversary.
Many of the children are handed over by young Vietnamese women sobbing at the prospect of relinquishing their babies to 'strangers and foreigners from another country, speaking a language they could not comprehend'.
Just after 4pm, the plane departs from Tan Son Nhut airport, carrying nearly 300 people, but mere minutes after takeoff, the locks on the rear loading ramp fail, causing the cargo door to separate and the plane to decompress 7000 metres (23,000ft) in the sky. Aune barely escapes being sucked out, and later recalls seeing her colleague 'hanging by his arm, the rest of his body dangling into the void'.
The flight controls have been badly damaged, and the plane begins a rapid descent. It is clear that the craft will not be able to make it back to the airport, so the pilots aim for a nearby rice paddy, throttling up to lift the nose before touchdown.
When it does hit the ground, the plane skids before skipping back aloft like a stone, then smashes into a dyke and breaks into four pieces. Aune is tossed along the entire length of the compartment, sustaining a broken foot as well as other injuries.
Once she manages to make her way outside, she sees 'wreckage and debris in every direction'. The flight deck is 90 metres (100 yards) away and upside down. Her dangling colleague managed to keep his grip, and he now splints his broken leg with a crutch and seatbelts before assisting with the rescue.
A human chain forms amidst the devastation to pass surviving children to rescue helicopters, and Aune helps shuttle infants to safety until she faints. Later that year, she will be the first woman to receive the Cheney Award, a US Air Force medal for valour and self-sacrifice.
But regardless of her and others' efforts on that day, 138 were killed in the plane crash, 78 of them children.
It was the first official flight of Operation Babylift – a US government-sanctioned effort to evacuate the orphanages of South Vietnam – and the highly publicised disaster thrust the mission into the international spotlight. In its wake, thousands of potential parents in the US and elsewhere signed up to receive adoptees, and the youngsters – some war orphans, some the abandoned offspring of American servicemen, and others given up by families fearing for their wellbeing and safety – were scattered across new homes in distant lands.
In the end, more than 3,000 children would be taken abroad over the course of three weeks. While the legacy of the operation later came into question when it was found that some of the adoptees had living parents or relatives who had not, in fact, consented to their removal, now on its 50th anniversary, one thing is undeniable – it reshaped the identities and families of those affected by it for a lifetime.
A chaotic escape
At the behest of organisations working with children in Vietnam, such as the Holt International adoption agency, the philanthropic Friends of Children of Vietnam, and several Catholic orphanages and other groups, US President Gerald Ford announced the plan to evacuate adoptees from Saigon on April 3, the day before the crash. It soon became apparent that military efforts would be too slow as resources were stretched thin, so private flights operated by Pan Am and World Airlines joined the campaign.
'The people who deserve recognition never got it and never will,' Frederick M 'Skip' Burkle Jr, medical director of the little-reported airlifts undertaken by World Airlines, tells Al Jazeera, referring to the many nurses, flight crews, and support staff who participated in the airlift.
By the time of Operation Babylift in 1975, Burkle, now 84, had completed a combat tour in Vietnam as part of the medical corps, running a hospital in the battle-torn front-line region of Quang Tri.
'People came from all over the northern part of south Vietnam to see me because nobody could take care of them,' Burkle recalls. These patients included everyone from sick local children to wounded soldiers. 'And these were wonderful people. We laughed together. We joked together. The war was going on, but we didn't discuss the insanity because we couldn't understand that. It did not make any sense, but you had to function in an environment that did not make any sense.'
After this he attended the University of California, Berkeley to study global health, a specialisation in which he would become an important figure, and it was there he received a phone call asking if he would join a medical team that was being put together by World Airways, to assist with the evacuation of orphans from Saigon.
'I said I had to make sure I could get out of my classes,' Burkle says. He told the caller that he had previously overseen a hospital in Vietnam and spoke the language, 'and they said, Wow! Would you be the director?'
The team was quickly dispatched to the Philippines where the US had maintained a strategically vital base for more than 70 years. Operation Babylift was already in full swing, but they were told that the airport in Saigon would no longer receive civilian aircraft. North Vietnamese forces had already taken Xuan Loc, the last line of defence before Saigon, just two hours away, and the capital was under sporadic attack.
'Everyone was looking around and they turned to me and said, You know the language. Would you be willing to go in?' Burkle recalls. 'And it was actually the last thing I wanted to do, because I knew that if my wife had known she would have said no.' He described how she 'went through hell' when he was previously in Vietnam after receiving false reports of his death.
But he agreed anyway, and their flight continued from the Philippines, arriving in Vietnam on April 26 – three days before the operation's final flight and four before the Fall of Saigon. During its approach to Tan Son Nhut airport, Burkle saw rockets crisscrossing through the air as they passed over the wreckage of the first Babylift plane.
'The radio was yelling at us, Don't land, don't land,' says Burkle. 'It was not safe. We came down hot,' making their approach as fast as possible to avoid taking fire.
Saigon had swelled with millions of refugees and forward North Vietnamese forces, and now Burkle had to make his way to orphanages scattered across the city to find infants and verify lists of those slated to go.
'So I went to about five of these. I don't know how I did it. I don't know how I was allowed to do it. The North Vietnamese obviously knew I was there and were following me and could have stopped me at any time, but I think they wanted to know what was the bigger picture, and what was I going to do with all this?'
Each orphanage was told to bring the children to Tan Son Nhut airport the next morning, and once they arrived they were divided between two planes. The most critically ill – malnutrition was rampant after years of the war's privations – were placed in first-class seats, while a novel solution was devised for securing infants in the cargo hold.
'We had file boxes, which, believe it or not, were just great to put an infant in and lay them on their back,' says Burkle, referring to cardboard cartons used for organising paperwork. 'The planes were the C-130s that open from the back and have straps, and the boxes had holes to hold onto, so I said put the straps through the holes and just line them all the way up. We got in as many as possible. On the sides and on top of each other.'
More than 300 children, most babies and infants, were put on board.
There were also a number of Vietnamese adults, and a 'cool, calm, and collected' American in a Hawaiian shirt who told Burkle: 'Thank god, we've been waiting for you. I'm CIA. These people are ours and we've got to get them out.'
The situation didn't get any less chaotic from there. Just before takeoff, a Vietnamese saboteur was discovered and prevented from placing a bomb on one of the planes. At some point, the pilot began vomiting, explaining that he 'just can't stand the sight of sick kids'. Then, when they finally took off fast 'at 90 degrees – all we could see was blue sky and the engines were roaring', the cockpit windshield began to crack under the pressure. But eventually, both planes made it to the safety of Clark Airbase in the Philippines, roughly three hours away.
'I hadn't slept at all,' Burkle chuckles. He'd spent three days preparing the team, gathering orphans, and making the trip, 'so I was pretty exhausted'.
There, the children were moved onto a single 747 which carried them to San Francisco, where public health officials were initially reluctant to let the children deplane due to concerns over potential contagions. But they relented, and Burkle was allowed to return home to Oakland, but not before 'someone from the State Department said, 'you're not to talk to anybody about this at all. This did not happen.''
His wife picked him up from the airport and he finally got some sleep before attending class the next morning. 'Nobody knew a thing about what I'd been up to for the last four days.'
Burkle went on to have a prominent career in global medicine and was frequently tapped to provide health crisis assessments in war zones and other disasters in places like Myanmar, Somalia and Iraq. In the case of Iraq, he was named the first minister of health for the Coalition Provisional Authority by President George W Bush in 2003, but was promptly fired after Burkle deemed the country a public health emergency due to its devastated healthcare infrastructure.
'I didn't last very long because I declared that what Bush was doing was wrong,' he explains, 'and they had to declare Iraq a public health emergency or they were going to lose a lot of lives. They didn't like that, so I was sent out. And of course it turned into one of the worst public health emergencies ever.'
Picked out 'like puppies'
Public opinion of the operation during and immediately following it was positive, and there was a general assertion that a great humanitarian victory had been achieved. But it didn't take long before aspects of it came into question.
Almost immediately, there were reports of Vietnamese mothers and relatives protesting that they had handed over their children for care without realising they would be evacuated from the country. Most of these adoptees would not reunite with their families for decades, if ever.
Then there were issues with the adoption process itself. While some agencies had secured homes for children under more or less normal adoption circumstances, children without placement were gathered in San Francisco, where one Vietnamese translator later said aspiring parents were picking them out 'like puppies'. Many had paperwork that was mixed up, forged or nonexistent, making identification difficult and complicating future efforts to reconnect with birth families.
And in some cases, children were placed in homes with people who were entirely unfit to be parents. Later, there would be reports of abuse, neglect and racism.
But it would be inaccurate to describe Operation Babylift as either entirely benevolent or inherently harmful. As many adoptees have explained, the reality was much more complicated.
The search of a lifetime
In the years that followed, the adoptees – most of whom now resided in the US with some in Australia and Europe – retained few to no memories of Vietnam.
'Growing up, I just wanted to be that all-American boy,' says Saul Tran Cornwall, whose Vietnamese parents relinquished him to a Holt orphanage shortly after his birth in 1972. 'I wanted to fit in and be popular. I didn't know what assimilation was or meant, but that's what I was doing. I knew I was from Vietnam and that I was adopted, but I didn't really explore the cultural heritage of that.'
Canh Oxelson, born in 1971 to a Vietnamese mother and African American soldier, had a similar experience early on. 'I was an all-American swimmer. I wasn't Black or Asian or white. I was a swimmer. That's how I saw it.' But once Oxelson graduated from university, new questions about his identity emerged. 'I figured, gosh, I'm not a competitive swimmer any more and never will be, so who am I?'
During his high school years, he had dreamed of making it to the Olympics, where – just maybe – his birth parents would recognise him. Now that swimming was over, he began to seriously consider searching for them.
As it turned out, his adoptive parents had been saving money for years for just such an eventuality, and, in the late 1990s, as he was approaching the age of 30, they went to Vietnam as a family where they visited the Sacred Heart Orphanage in the city of Da Nang.
'It was one of the first times an adoptee had come back with their adopted family, so for them it was like seeing what they had hoped for and all they sacrificed for as nuns – they got to see it come full circle.'
For Oxelson – now 53 – it was a powerful experience.
'Adoption is like a story that's being told to you,' he explains. 'And it wasn't until I met people who were there at the beginning that I thought 'oh my gosh, the story that I've been told for years is true!' To see my name written in the registry was stunning. I'll never forget: Number 867, and it had my full birth name, my birthday, and the date I left the orphanage.'
But at the time, that was as far as his search went. It would take over a decade before he would finally reconnect with his birth family.
Cornwall had a similarly prolonged path to finding his.
It wasn't until college (and shortly after spending two years working in post-adoption services for Holt – the very agency where his journey began as an infant) that he connected with Vietnamese and Asian refugees, prompting him to delve into his heritage. So in 2000 at the age of 28, he marked the 25th anniversary of Operation Babylift by joining the Holt Motherland Tour through Vietnam. Visiting Vietnam, however, struck him like a normal tourist trip as he felt no connection to the country, and his early endeavours to find his family proved fruitless.
Sixteen years later, he returned to Vietnam, this time with his adoptive father, who had served in the war. And while 'that was really special, by 2016 I was kind of done with Vietnam'. He'd been three times, and online and DNA searches had turned up little beyond some distant relatives.
But then in 2022, he received a Facebook message from fellow adoptee Trista Goldberg, founder of Operation Reunite – an organisation partnered with FamilyTreeDNA that works to help Vietnamese adoptees reconnect with their birth families.
'You might want to sit down for this,' her message read. 'We have some news.' It appeared they had found his father.
For Oxelson, DNA made the difference as well, linking him to a person who turned out to be a half-niece and whose grandmother proved to be his mother.
Both men returned to Vietnam where they met with various relatives – nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles, siblings, and in Oxelson's case, his mother. As Oxelson put it, ultimately the reunion gave him the sense that 'I've climbed the mountaintop. To me, that's what it felt like – one of those monumental, lifetime achievements.'
Cornwall has continued to build his relationship with his birth family, and Oxelson has gone on to search for his father, eventually following the clues to Orangeburg, South Carolina.
'We're close,' he says. 'In fact, the genealogist believes that she has identified my grandmother or great-grandmother.' And while he admits that there is always the possibility of another dead end, he is optimistic and undeterred. 'I guess one's search for identity could last a lifetime.'
An 'unscripted journey'
That genealogist is Trista Goldberg, who has helped countless adoptees in their quest for family and heritage.
'It's been 50 years. It's kind of crazy,' says Goldberg. 'Something I think is important – and you don't realise this until you get a little bit older in life – is that your roots are really important whether you're adopted or not.'
Born in 1970 to an American serviceman and Vietnamese mother, she successfully found her mother in 2002, learning much through the process about the practical and emotional challenges it entailed. 'After my own search I thought other adoptees could use assistance.'
Goldberg was aided in her search by a unique link to her mother's native country. Before being sent abroad at the age of four, she had lived with a Vietnamese foster family, the father of which had left a note among Goldberg's things that was later discovered by her American adoptive mother. The two families corresponded throughout the war, then when her foster family escaped Vietnam to Guam with the wave of 'Boat People' – a mass exodus of some 800,000 Vietnamese refugees who fled the country by sea, often at great peril – her adoptive family sponsored their visa to resettle in the US.
'So I grew up with my Vietnamese foster family and was exposed to a lot of Vietnamese culture that most adoptees are not,' Goldberg explains. 'I grew up with the customs. I was able to celebrate the holidays of Tet. So when I came back to Vietnam, it wasn't a mystery. I already had it in my blood.'
What's more, her foster father still had a brother in Vietnam who was able to help in the search for her birth mother. Through this connection and the assistance of her private investigator adoptive father, Goldberg discovered that her Vietnamese family had relocated to the US in 1991, and thanks to a nascent tool called the internet, she managed to track down a brother living in the state of Kansas in 2000.
Goldberg became adept at searching the internet and 'making phone calls to random Vietnamese people with lots of I'll call you back because I couldn't understand the language'. Her search efforts were to be further honed with the introduction of DNA testing, which led to her partnership with the genetic ancestry company FamilyTreeDNA. 'We were actually the beta group for the autosomal DNA (a form of DNA testing that can establish parentage), which is everywhere now.'
Since then, she has helped countless adoptees reconnect with their birth families.
'I don't do the work for them,' she says. 'I just point them in the right direction. I think that's a healthier way to approach your reunion because sometimes if you're automatically thrown into a reunion without actually struggling through the process, you miss some of the beauty in it. I commend their courage, because it's a really unscripted journey to take.'
Now, to mark 50 years since Operation Babylift and the war's end, Goldberg, Oxelson, Cornwall, and dozens of other adoptees are celebrating by attending a string of events in the US and Vietnam.
'It really was a humanitarian mission,' Oxelson asserts when asked about the criticisms that have been levelled at Operation Babylift over the decades. 'You could probably find a political bent to plant your flag on for this, but when you're on the ground in the middle of something like that, it's a different thing. I think your basic humanity comes out.
'The bottom line is the people I know that I've met over the years who were a part of this effort were just decent human beings wanting to do the best they can.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
18 minutes ago
- Yahoo
1 Soaring Growth Stock to Buy Hand Over Fist Before It Is Too Late
Applied Materials stock is in rebound mode. Even better, it still trades at an attractive valuation. The semiconductor equipment supplier expects stronger growth in the future due to increased spending by chipmakers and foundries. Applied Materials stock could deliver terrific gains going forward thanks to favorable end-market developments. 10 stocks we like better than Applied Materials › Share prices of Applied Materials (NASDAQ: AMAT) have jumped impressively from the 52-week lows they hit just over two months ago, gaining 31% in a short time on the back of the broader rally in the tech-laden Nasdaq Composite index that has clocked solid gains of 25% during the same period. What's worth noting is that investors shrugged off Applied Materials' mixed fiscal 2025 second-quarter results (for the three months ended April 27), which were released on May 15. The semiconductor equipment supplier reported robust growth in sales and earnings for the quarter, but its top line was a tad lighter than expected. The company's outlook for the current quarter followed a similar pattern. However, savvy investors would do well to note that Applied Materials' results and guidance were resilient at a time when the tariff-fueled turmoil and the restrictions on sales of semiconductor equipment to China are turning out to be headwinds for the company. Let's take a look at the factors that could help Applied Materials stock maintain its momentum on the market. Applied Materials reported year-over-year growth of 7% in its revenue in the previous quarter, while its non-GAAP earnings per share (EPS) increased at a faster pace of 14%. A quarter of its revenue came from sales of semiconductor manufacturing equipment to China. For comparison, Applied Materials' top-line growth was flat in the same quarter last year, while its adjusted earnings increased at a much slower pace of 5%. Applied Materials got 43% of its revenue from Chinese customers in the year-ago period. So, the company's growth accelerated even though restrictions on sales of advanced chipmaking equipment to Chinese customers hurt its business in its largest market abroad. This can be attributed to the global growth in semiconductor demand owing to catalysts such as artificial intelligence (AI). Equity research firm Summit Insights Group predicts that the improvement in demand for advanced chips in the second half of 2025 and next year should allow Applied Materials to continue doing well even if its Chinese business remains negatively impacted. Applied Materials CEO Gary Dickerson's remarks on last month's earnings conference call suggest something similar: The impact of AI datacenter innovation and investments is apparent in the wafer fab equipment market, where there are significant shifts in the spending mix this year. We see investment in leading edge foundry-logic growing substantially in 2025, and we also expect spending for leading-edge DRAM to be up significantly. Large-scale AI infrastructure investments such as the $500 billion Stargate project and the multibillion-dollar investments by cloud-computing giants to bolster their AI capabilities are the reasons why foundries and chipmakers are focused on enhancing their manufacturing capacities. Foundry giant Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing (NYSE: TSM), for instance, is set to increase its capital expenditures (capex) by 38% at the midpoint of its forecast to $40 billion in 2025. The Taiwan-based company is on track to build nine fabrication plants this year. TSMC further points out that it will spend 70% of its capital spending on advanced process nodes. That's not surprising as almost three-fourths of the company's revenue comes from selling chips manufactured using advanced nodes that are 7-nanometer (nm) or smaller in size. Looking ahead, TSMC estimates that its revenue from sales of AI chips is likely to increase at an annual rate of mid-40% through 2029. So, it won't be surprising to see the company spending more money on shoring up the production capacity of advanced chips to meet the AI-fueled demand. The increase in capex by the likes of TSMC is expected to drive a 2% increase in global semiconductor equipment spending this year to $110 billion, followed by a much stronger increase of 18% in 2026. This should ideally lead to an acceleration in Applied Materials' growth as well, paving the way for more stock price upside. Analysts are forecasting a 10% increase in Applied Materials' earnings this fiscal year to $9.49 per share. This is expected to be followed by a smaller jump in fiscal 2026 before another year of double-digit growth in fiscal 2027. However, the sharp acceleration in global semiconductor equipment spending could allow Applied Materials to grow at a faster rate over the next couple of years. But even if the company's bottom line grows in line with consensus expectations and its earnings hit $11.17 per share after a couple of fiscal years (as per the chart above), its stock price could jump to $329 (based on the tech-laden Nasdaq-100 index's forward earnings multiple of 29). That points toward an 88% gain from current levels in the next three years. Applied Materials stock is now trading at just 18 times forward earnings, which is a nice discount to the Nasdaq-100 index, which serves as a proxy for tech stocks. However, the market could reward Applied Materials with a richer earnings multiple in the future if it can deliver stronger-than-expected earnings growth. That's why savvy investors may want to buy this semiconductor stock while it is still trading at an incredibly cheap valuation, as it has the ability to go on a terrific bull run going forward. Before you buy stock in Applied Materials, consider this: The Motley Fool Stock Advisor analyst team just identified what they believe are the for investors to buy now… and Applied Materials wasn't one of them. The 10 stocks that made the cut could produce monster returns in the coming years. Consider when Netflix made this list on December 17, 2004... if you invested $1,000 at the time of our recommendation, you'd have $659,171!* Or when Nvidia made this list on April 15, 2005... if you invested $1,000 at the time of our recommendation, you'd have $891,722!* Now, it's worth noting Stock Advisor's total average return is 995% — a market-crushing outperformance compared to 172% for the S&P 500. Don't miss out on the latest top 10 list, available when you join . See the 10 stocks » *Stock Advisor returns as of June 9, 2025 Harsh Chauhan has no position in any of the stocks mentioned. The Motley Fool has positions in and recommends Applied Materials and Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing. The Motley Fool has a disclosure policy. 1 Soaring Growth Stock to Buy Hand Over Fist Before It Is Too Late was originally published by The Motley Fool Sign in to access your portfolio
Powys County Times
19 minutes ago
- Powys County Times
Bookmakers back Newtown to make immediate top flight return
NEWTOWN Football Club has been backed to make an immediate return to the JD Cymru Premier by bookmakers. However, the Robins have only been installed as joint second favourites to win the JD Cymru North with Airbus UK Broughton the favourites at 9/4 according to Dragon Bet. Newtown and Holywell Town are both second favourites on 4/1. Meanwhile Guilsfield Football Club are 10/1 to win the league. Bookmakers expect Caersws and Penrhyncoch to struggle with both 16/1 to win the league with only Gresford Athletic and Brickfield Rangers offered worse odds at 20/1. Meanwhile Llanuwchllyn have been made favourites to win the Ardal North East League with odds of 5/2, just ahead of Corwen on 4/1. Bow Street and Kerry are expected to lead the mid Wales challenge with both 9/2 for the title with Builth Wells and new boys Knighton Town next at 15/2. Bookmakers have made Rhos Aelwyd and Llanfair United joint favourites for the drop with each 25/1 for the title while Radnor Valley and Llanrhaeadr are also expected to struggle with odds of 20/1 offered for the title.
Economic Times
19 minutes ago
- Economic Times
This one food habit could shield you from arthritis, obesity and diabetes. Science backs what Indian kitchens always knew
Fermented foods like idli, curd, and kanji aren't just staples of Indian kitchens—they're emerging as powerful allies in the fight against arthritis, diabetes, and inflammation. Packed with probiotics, these gut-friendly foods improve digestion, boost immunity, and regulate metabolism. Studies confirm that incorporating them into your diet can significantly reduce chronic health risks and promote long-term wellness. Tired of too many ads? Remove Ads The Good Bacteria You Need More Of Why India's Age-Old Recipes Deserve a Comeback Tired of too many ads? Remove Ads The Anti-Inflammatory, Diabetes-Defying Diet Shift Not Just a Food, But a Lifestyle Fix In a world where fast food dominates and lifestyle diseases rise unchecked, the cure to many modern ailments might already be simmering in Indian kitchens. From the spongy idli to the humble chaas, fermented foods are gaining scientific validation for their transformative effect on health. A recent report by the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health now confirms what ancient Indian culinary wisdom always hinted at: fermented foods aren't just delicious—they're disease-fighting foods are made or preserved using yeast, fungi, or beneficial bacteria—elements that might sound off-putting at first but are crucial for maintaining a healthy gut. According to the report, our digestive tracts host trillions of microorganisms, and feeding them right can influence everything from digestion to immunity. Fermented foods, rich in probiotics and prebiotics, help boost microbial diversity, reduce inflammation, and support the gut's ability to fight off believe this microbial harmony could be key to preventing chronic conditions like arthritis. The journal explains that fermented foods can lower oxidative stress and systemic inflammation—two markers often linked to the onset of autoimmune and degenerative kitchens have long relied on fermentation—not just as a preservation method but as a cornerstone of everyday meals. Dishes like dahi (curd), kanji (a tangy drink made from fermented carrots or mustard seeds), idli and dosa batters, pickles, fermented bamboo shoots from the Northeast, and even drinks like chaas and lassi are natural probiotic powerhouses. These are the very staples that modern research is now spotlighting for their health processed probiotics or supplements, these foods come integrated with taste, tradition, and tangible results. They naturally introduce helpful bacteria into the gut, helping regulate digestion, fight bad bacteria, and enhance nutrient absorption—all while staying true to your cultural plate.A separate study in the International Journal of Molecular Sciences further revealed that fermented foods could play a role in managing obesity. Their ability to improve metabolic function, control blood sugar, and even lower cholesterol and blood pressure suggests a compelling role in diabetes prevention and metabolic disorders like diabetes surge in India, this dietary insight couldn't come at a better time. Rather than eliminating food groups, the smarter strategy may be to reintroduce age-old ones that the modern diet has gradually promoting healthy weight loss to lowering the risk of autoimmune issues like arthritis, the evidence is stacking up: fermentation isn't just a culinary technique—it's preventative medicine. These foods also boost mental well-being, skin health, and immunity, thanks to their influence on the gut-brain axis and inflammation makes this resurgence in fermented food all the more compelling is its accessibility. No fancy ingredients, no complicated methods—just your grandmother's recipes, revived. And in that revival lies the potential to heal a India grapples with the double burden of malnutrition and non-communicable diseases, it may be time to rethink what's on our plates. Fermented foods offer a solution that's cost-effective, deeply cultural, and scientifically the next time you sip your lassi or scoop out a spoon of homemade curd, remember—you're not just feeding your body. You're fortifying your future.
