In an era when immigration policy is often reduced to threats and responses, we would do well to remember the story of Nguyet Anh Duong, a retired U.S. civil servant and one of the quiet heroes behind a vital piece of modern American military capability.
Duong, a Vietnamese immigrant who fled to the United States after the fall of Saigon in 1975, went on to become a leading weapons scientist at the Naval Surface Warfare Center in Indian Head, Md. There, she played a pivotal role in developing “bunker buster” bombs that eventually led to the weapons used in the recent U.S. strikes against Iranian nuclear sites. For her ingenuity and dedication, she earned the nickname “the Bomb Lady.”
Her story is remarkable not only because of what she achieved, but because of what it symbolizes: the extraordinary, often overlooked contributions that immigrants make to American national security and technological innovation. In the current debates over immigration, we rarely hear about people like Anh Duong—but we should.
Duong’s journey from refugee to weapons designer encapsulates what has long made the United States exceptional: not just its material wealth or military strength, but its ability to attract, absorb, and empower global talent, especially during moments of national crisis. She is not an outlier. Immigrants have been critical to nearly every major scientific and technological breakthrough in modern American history, from the Manhattan Project to Silicon Valley.
This point is not merely sentimental; it is strategic.
In his 2017 book Engineers of Victory: The Problem Solvers Who Turned the Tide in the Second World War, historian Paul Kennedy explores how the Allied victory was shaped not only by battlefield heroism, but by the ingenuity of engineers and scientists who solved daunting operational problems. From designing better radar and long-range aircraft to developing amphibious landing craft and cracking German codes, it was technological adaptation, fueled by open societies and free inquiry, that gave the Allies the edge.
As Evan Thomas wrote in his review of the book, “Culture, as much as material strength, played a critical role in the Allied victory.” The Allies thrived not because they had the most tanks or ships, but because their societies—unlike their fascist adversaries—fostered experimentation, welcomed dissent, and valued creative problem-solving. The United States, in particular, benefited from a wave of scientists and engineers who had fled authoritarian regimes in Europe. In many ways, America’s openness was its ultimate asymmetric advantage.
Today, that lesson is more relevant than ever. We are once again locked in a long-term geopolitical and technological competition, this time with China. As we confront the implications of artificial intelligence, quantum computing, hypersonic weapons, and biological threats, the nation that most effectively harnesses human capital will shape the geopolitical and strategic future.
And yet, at precisely the moment when the United States should be doubling down on immigration as a source of strength, we are witnessing a dangerous political trend toward restriction, suspicion, and retrenchment. Debates about immigration often center on illegal border crossings, but government policy and actions increasingly target legal immigrants, including scientists, engineers, students, and entrepreneurs who are essential to America’s innovation ecosystem.
Let me be clear: I am not advocating for open borders. U.S. immigration laws must be fully and consistently enforced. Border security is a core function of national sovereignty. But we must also ensure that our immigration laws are fully aligned with our broader national interests—especially when it comes to retaining and recruiting the world’s top talent. Our challenge is to balance lawful immigration with strategic foresight.
The risk is not just economic stagnation. It is strategic decline.
As Thomas also notes in his review, Kennedy’s earlier work, The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers, outlines what happens when empires turn inward. In his sweeping study of history’s dominant states—from Imperial Spain to Napoleonic France and Victorian Britain—Kennedy shows how great powers faltered when they prioritized elite entrenchment over mobility, protectionism over openness, and short-term political gain over long-term investment.
In the most enduring examples of decline, ruling elites erected barriers to talent, drained national resources to protect their own interests, and suffocated the very dynamism that had made them powerful. These were not merely tactical failures; they were cultural and institutional breakdowns.
What has historically set the United States apart is its ability to renew itself through immigration and social mobility, injecting new energy, perspective, and talent into every generation. This “culture of renewal” has fueled America’s dominance in fields ranging from aerospace to biotechnology to defense.
The U.S. military, in particular, has benefited immensely from immigrant talent. During the Cold War, immigrant physicists and mathematicians laid the groundwork for missile defense, satellite reconnaissance, and nuclear deterrence. In more recent years, immigrants have led the way in cybersecurity, unmanned systems, and AI-enabled defense applications. Today, more than 40 percent of Ph.D. scientists and engineers working in the United States are foreign-born.
To be clear, no one is suggesting that immigration alone is a substitute for strategy or sound governance. But it is a force multiplier—a vital resource that no great power can afford to squander. In an age where demographic decline is already constraining the industrial base and labor supply in countries like Japan and Russia, America’s openness to immigration remains a unique strategic asset.
This makes the story of Anh Duong all the more instructive. She was not born in the United States. She did not inherit its privileges. But she believed in its promise. And she repaid that belief a hundredfold—not just with ideas, but with inventions that protected the lives of American service members and strengthened the nation’s deterrent posture.
Her life underscores a basic truth: Innovation does not come from exclusion. It comes from inclusion.
If the United States is to maintain our military-technological edge against authoritarian states like China, it must nurture the conditions that allow innovation to flourish: open institutions, free inquiry, and a steady influx of new minds from every corner of the globe.
Anh Duong’s legacy is a reminder of what that future can look like—if we are wise enough to embrace it.
Frank A. Rose is President of Chevalier Strategic Advisors, a strategic advisory firm focused on geopolitics and defense technology.
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