Sufficiency economy pondered upon

"Sufficiency economy" can be better understood if it is seen as something quite uniquely Thai, with all its cultural nuances and non-translatable terms. It could be better understood if one is able to speak Thai and has followed its debate, discourse, promotion and implementation in the Thai language. When one tries to explain it in English, there are frustrating confusions, such as, is it an economic thought? Or is it a Buddhist philosophy? Is it the same as sustainable development or environmental sustainability? Most importantly, is it worth discussing or can it be applied anywhere else but in Thailand?

The person explaining from the Thai point of view can't explain it sufficiently, first, because of that frustrating incompatibility of the English language for explaining many Thai concepts. On top of that he/she is also challenged to apply western economic concepts to something that is more an expression of Buddhist philosophical thought than an economic thought. One speaks about the mind and its effects on the quality of life while the other speaks about quantitative monetary concepts. One calls for a middle way that considers family and community relationships and environmental responsibility, while the other is just looking for cost efficiency or the best price that expresses the right balance between supply and demand. How do you quantify the diverse levels of how each unique individual defines what is "sufficient" for him or his community? Price, demand, supply, efficiency, etc. becomes hopelessly inadequate as measurements. How does one quantify generosity or charity or a 'right' mind? Because sufficiency economy fails to answer these questions, its critics declare that it is not an economic thought nor a viable economic model.

The story of sufficiency economy developed in Thailand nearly along the same timeline as the story of how sustainability caught on as desired developmental goal recognized by the UN in 1972 at the UN Conference on the Human Environment held in Stockholm, popularized 15 years later with the Brundtland report (1987) and adopted as a major wold challenge at the Rio Earth Summit (1992). In Thailand, sufficiency economy was being shaped and implemented as an economic thought since the late fifties/early sixties when a young king travelled laboriously around his country initiating development projects where he could to better the lives of people in remote areas.

Despite its current popularity, sufficiency economy is not a mainstream economic model in Thailand. It is more like a supplementary prescription for the shaping of economic activities to counteract the ills of a dominantly capitalistic model. Sufficiency economy as an alternative economic thinking is one that is gaining ground one poor village by one poor village converted, as individuals who were inspired by its principals implemented and demonstrated successful local action again and again. In many cases, villages that could not feed themselves started growing their own food as an alternative to growing cash crops that had only caused them to become increasingly indebted. Instead of buying expensive fertilizers, they have expanded the supply of organic food, some even becoming successful with an export niche market.  At the same time, depleted forests are being regenerated and a future in which environmental and community awareness where values such as love, friendship, and generosity gain triumph over profit and greed are being re-enforced.

A recent article, "Sufficiency Economy" was published by PETER JANSSEN on The Manila Bulletin (http://www.mb.com/, December 27, 2010:  http://www.mb.com.ph/articles/295104/sufficiency-economy), focused on a Thai abbot at Doi Pha Som forest temple (วัดธาตุดอยผาส้ม) in Chiang Mai, Sorayut Chayapanyo (พระสรยุทธ ชยปัญโญ), who had rebuilt an old temple, regenerated the surrounding forest, and helped villages grow out of debt. Stanford educated, but rejecting that privileged knowledge, he explains sufficiency economy as not being 'anti-capitalist' nor 'anti-Western', but as something between market economy and socialism. Sufficiency economy was shown as being meaningful in impoverished rural areas where access to the market economy was difficult. Money or greed were no longer the main locomotive of local economic activities once people learnt how to search for ways to become dependant on what they had.

This was not a new story for me. I have heard many very interesting local stories of how poverty was transformed into resourcefulness over the years adopting those principals proposed by the Thai King, proposed in his annual speech of 1972. What this story gave to me, this time, was the realization that it was the availability and strength of a localized social network or social structures, very particular to Thailand or maybe a Buddhist society, that plays an important role in nurturing the emergence of leadership or inspired action by individuals in the successful implementation of a sufficiency economic model.

Before Thailand became a modern economy with its building blocks in the late fifties/early sixties, much of its rural economy, community life or social fabric was structured around the temple. The temple was not simply a religious institution, it was also the place where education was being given, funds being raised for community development, and where the binds of society were formed and strengthened. In many cases, it was the ground where many non-monetary activities were supplementing the economic livelihood of its communities, with its festivals and fairs, funerals, alms giving and donations.

This was a social network that encouraged individuals to make a difference, usually with very small means.  As the modern economy grew, the state and modern markets took over much of the role that the temple played. Festivals are now just commercial events hosted on government grounds. They don't do much for that very personal tie that binds. As a modern Thai, I don't remind myself the value of giving each single day as my mother does, just by consistently getting up every morning to cook rice for a group of passing monks.

When I read yet another story of how one person transforms a community, it dawned on me that poverty is not converted by economic intervention, but by changing the emphasis on our values. When we review what we want of the world by starting a review of  our minds, not from the point of view of what objects or things we need, but from a point of view of what qualities in life we really need to make us contented, we can come to realize that we really don't need all those consumerist products and services the markets try to push on us. We then realize that we don't need to focus on chasing money so much when we can focus on just trying to define what makes us contented.

Note: An older post I wrote: "Self-sufficiency or sustainable development"

Linguistic diversity in Thailand

Recently meeting a linguistic student the other day, I surprised him by declaring that Kmer and Thai did not belong to the same family group. He thought they belonged to the same linguistic family.  I had a vague memory of a classification of the three large linguistic families of Southeast Asian languages I had read in Joachim Schiiesinger's "Ethnic Groups of Thailand: Non-Tai Speaking Peoples of Thailand" (published by White Lotus Press, 2000.)  I looked up this book as soon as I got home, just to make sure I hadn't made a rash declaration. Sure enough, page 8, a diagram, adapted from James A. Matisoff, "Linguistic Diversity and Language Contact", in John MacKinnon and Wanat Bhruksasri, eds, Highlanders of Thailand (Oxfort University Press, 1983): The three linguistic superstocks of Southeast Asia:

1. Austro-Asiatic, to which belongs the languages of Munda (India), Nicobarese, Mon-Kmer (Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Burma, Thailand, China, Assam), and Aslian (Malaysia).
2. Austro-Thai, to which belongs the sub-family languages called Austronesian, Tai-Kadai, and Mioa-Yao.
3. Sino-Tibetan, subdivided into Chinese and Tibeto-Burman.

Now if you're not a linguist (which I'm not, but I'm an extremely curious person), it's easy and forgivable to make a simple and common conclusion that people of same geographic region will be speaking similar and related languages. However, it turns out that Southeast Asia is one of the most diverse and linguistic regions of the world. My new linguist friend, who specialized in Spanish and is more interested in learning about prehispanic languages, of course, was not expected to know this.

How would you explain to people who don't have a clue, the minefield of linguistics? What exactly do linguists do? Well, my husband's niece who had decided to go into that field of study, is now working on the construction of a dictionary of Spanglish, of all things. I met another, who worked with a computer software company, using her speciality in Latin, putting a natural order to computer programming. Then, there's a blogger I avidly follow who doesn't write so much about linguistics as much as she writes about Thai cooking!

Wikipedia says, "linguistics is the scientific study of natural language". It also goes on to say that there are several sub-fields (ie, grammar and semantics), and sub-disciplines (ie, evolutionary liguistics, historical linguistics, sociolinguistics, neurolinguistics, language acquisition, discourse analysis, and pragmatics), and even relate fields (like phonetics).  Interestingly, "outside the field, this term is commonly used to refer to people who speak many languages fluently".

So from the understanding derived from reading the above wiki article, the classification of family languages falls under historical linguistics, branching out from philology, the study of ancient texts.  Well, if you're in interested in what linguistics is all about just keep following those numerous links provided by wikipedia. I hope it will inspire you to develop a keener interest in what linguistics is about, if not to be fascinated enough to become one yourself.  Meanwhile, I'm looking at the topic heading that I put up and sees that it's saying "Linguistic diversity in Thailand"!

What then is the distinction between Austro-Asiatic and Austro-Thai? "Austro" means south, so therefore, Austro-Asiatic is basically South Asia. That is an interesting revelation, because only a small group of people are left that speak Austro-Asiatic (Munda) in India which geographically is considered South Asia.  Instead, the language of the Indians are mainly of the Indo-European and Dravidian language groups. Another quirk of linguistics.

The grouping of the language family of Austro-Tai is based on a hypothesis that the Tai-Kadai and Austronesian language families of southern China and the Pacific are genealogically related. There are a number of possible cognates in the core vocabulary.  The word for rice, for example.

While what is seen on the surface is that the Thai language is THE one and only official language of Thailand, in reality a multitude of languages and dialects are spoken in Thailand. I enjoy being able to point out the differences of Isaan dialects spoken in Northeastern Thailand. Sakon Nakhon, where my family is from, has a special kind of sing song lilt (influenced by Puthai) that in my opinion makes it sound softer than for example the dialect of its neighboring province of Kalasin. Nobody will deny that the dialect of the North is different from the dialect of the Northeast, even if we can quite easily understand each other, but have a Southerner speak his dialect to me and I'm lost, but not as lost as having a Karen hilltribe speak to me.

The book, "Linguistic Diversity and National Unity", by William A. Smalley (1994), singularizes the success of Thailand's official language policy. Unlike other multi-ethnic nations, such as Myanmar and India, where official language policy has sparked bloody clashes, Thailand has maintained relative stability despite its eighty languages. 

Another notch on the belt for Thailand, it seems.

What the pots tell about the past

This article, written by Chris Baker, was published by BTHE MING GAP AND SHIPWRECK CERAMICS IN SOUTHEAST ASIAangkok Post's Outlook section on 16/08/2010.

It is a review of the book, "THE MING GAP AND SHIPWRECK CERAMICS IN SOUTHEAST ASIA: Towards a Chronology of Thai Trade Ware" by Roxanna Maude Brown, printed by The Siam Society and River Books, 208pp, 895 baht, ISBN 978-9749863770.

Ceramics have played a rather niche role in the history of Siam. The ceramics trade was not mentioned at all in the royal chronicles, and hardly at all by foreign visitors whose commercial interests lay elsewhere. The study of ceramics has largely been left to art historians who focus on design. Yet anyone who has cycled along the Yom River in Si Satchanalai past the amazing number of old kilns, ranging from burrows in the riverbank to great multi-chambered brick constructions (some now made into splendid museums), must wonder about the larger historical significance of this trade.

Roxanna Brown had begun to probe that significance. This book is her doctoral thesis from UCLA in 2004, accepted for publication by the Siam Society before her sad and senseless death two years ago. The thesis tests the theory that there was a "Ming Gap" - a period from the late 14th to late 16th centuries when a ban on exports from China allowed Southeast Asian production of ceramics to flourish. But the thesis goes far, far beyond answering this single question.

Since 1974, over 120 wrecks have been found with some cargo of Southeast Asian ceramics. A few have been the subject of thorough archaeological studies. Others have been surveyed by private enthusiasts. Many have been looted, with the pots turning up in museums, private collections and flea markets. Brown assembled all the data available on these wrecks, and then devised ingenious methods to organise them into a chronology.

With this data, she offers a precise but complex answer to questions about a Ming Gap. In the last third of the 14th century, when the emperor banned private overseas trade, the proportion of Chinese ceramics in Southeast Asian trade fell from 100 percent to 30-40 percent. It then fell again to only 5 percent through the middle of the 15th century. From 1488 to 1505, there was a sudden flood of Chinese blue-and-white, then another lapse until the export ban was lifted in 1567.

The findings which Brown made along the way to this conclusion are ultimately much more exciting than this exercise in dating. In the past, "experts" dated Siamese ceramics based on design, using a theory that designs became more complex and sophisticated over time. But Brown shows that ceramics of many different types with widely varying complexity of design were found on the very same wrecks. She proposes an outline history of the various kiln sites and their products, and this handful of pages is the highlight of the book.

Vietnamese kilns were the first to move into the gap vacated by the Chinese, but they were soon overtaken by Siamese sites, especially Sawankhalok (Si Satchanalai). In the dying years of the 14th century, potters in Sukhothai and Sawankhalok learned how to paint black designs under a transparent glaze, producing the well-known bowls and plates with fish and floral designs. Then around 1420, Sawankhalok potters discovered much finer clay and learned how to fire at much higher temperatures, resulting in the famous celadon. Sukhothai never replicated these techniques, but continued to churn out products in the old style in much larger quantities than Sawankhalok. For much of the Ming Gap, these products dominated the sea-borne ceramics trade.

In the early 16th century, Sawankalok reverted to the black underglaze, and a new technique combining brown and white glazing. Probably the sources of good clay were in decline, as the ribbon development of kilns along the Yom River suggests. Then in the 1580s, the whole area around Sukhothai and Sawankhalok was depopulated because of the growing conflict with Burma, and the kilns were abandoned. Sing Buri kilns had already established a niche for the production of storage jars, and now widened their repertoire to include many other items. Suphan Buri kilns specialised in large storage jars, often of extraordinary size. One fragment is estimated to have come from a jar with a capacity of 260 litres. A few items come from the Lanna kilns, especially at San Kamphaeng.

Brown's assembly of all the shipwreck data raises a host of new questions. The wrecks are only a random sample of the total maritime shipping, but they hint at the scale of the ceramics trade. Most of the junks were carrying from 5,000 to 15,000 pieces. One European vessel went down in 1751 with 100,000. The total quantities may have been massive. How did the shipments move from the northern kilns? Where were they loaded onto junks? Who controlled or taxed this trade? Who profited? What relationship is there between the rhythms of the ceramics trade and the course of Siam's political history?

Most wrecks were carrying a mixture of goods from different kilns in Siam, perhaps also with some Vietnamese ware, some Chinese pieces, and the odd pot from Burma or beyond. This mixture hints at a complex market structure, possibly with some major exchange centres. Where were they?

The book contains hundreds of photos of ceramic pieces. These are not the exquisitely arty pictures found in glossy magazines, but a scholar's records, sometimes snapped in museums, markets, and quaysides. They show the familiar plates and bowls but also a wonderful variety of storage containers and occasional decorative pieces. On the Sawankhalok celadon alone, the range of designs is breathtaking. These pictures attest to the technical and artistic skills of the potters, but also hint at the complexity and sophistication of the markets which demanded such variety.

Although this book seems to be a technical exercise laid out in charts and tables, the findings are much richer - the result of a feel for the subject that Roxanna Brown had developed over 30 years. The book answers one question but throws up many others which she had only just begun to explore. This book is a fitting memorial to a unique scholar, and a great legacy for all interested in the history of Southeast Asia.

Mor Lam and Monks

Mor lam, is a northeastern Thai tradition that is slowly dying due to the influence of pop music. It would be wonderful if a new generation of Isaan youngsters with talent could add new energy to this lyrical art.

An unforgetable talent that had helped keep this artform current was Pumpuang Duangjan, R.I.P. While there are current artists like Jintara Poonlarp, Siriporn Ampaipong, and even a Dutch singer Christy Gibson, these studio-produced mor lam pales in comparison to the excitement and appreciation of a spontaneous talent shown in the live sparing of a mor lam contest or performance among the Isaan people.

I was fortunate enough to witness one such performance at a young age.  Maybe multimillion Thai pop music studio businessmen can be tipped to fund these contests in the Isaan country side, in the way that Nelson Mandela did for South African rugby, as shown in the movie, Invictus, not only to promote the goodwill of Luk Tung, a local musical genre not imported from abroad, but to give a sense of pride in cultural identity of the young, as well as to discover new natural talent.

I had always thought that this musical form is in some ways similar to modern rap, only much more traditional. It challenges its performers to dig up the best use of language and rythm on the spot. The best perform from a memory or repertoire of word play, rythm, rhyme and metaphors. It's what I would call a neobaroque form of entertainment because the musical accompaniment is simple and repetitive yet intuitive and spontaneous. It's a whole performance that engages and pulls in its viewers or in this case audience and listeners.



So what does mor lam performances have to do with monks? 

I just recently read the history of Phra Ajaan Mun Bhuridatta Thera (1870-1949), the most venerable founder of Thailand's famous forest monk tradition. Here's what http://www.accesstoinsight.org/ says,

The unusual style of Phra Ajaan Mun's sermons may be explained in part by the fact that in the days before his ordination he was skilled in a popular form of informal village entertainment called maw lam. Maw lam is a contest in extemporaneous rhyming, usually reproducing the war between the sexes, in which the battle of wits can become quite fierce. Much use is made of word play: riddles, puns, innuendoes, metaphors, and simple playing with the sounds of words. The sense of language that Ajaan Mun developed in maw lam he carried over into his teachings after becoming a monk. Often he would teach his students in extemporaneous puns and rhymes. This sort of word play he even applied to the Pali language, ...

The best of buddhist teachings comes from oral traditions, in the forms of rhetorics, whether in the Tibetan debating or in this case the teachings of humble monks of Isaan origins, that towers above the more conventional Thervada style of Thailand's center. The language of mor lam and the language of forest monk tradition is Lao, which is (central Thais would probably love to deny) the true origin of the Thai language. Acharn Mun and other forest tradition monks had so internalized the teaching of the Buddha, which they had learnt in Pali, but it was practice and practice (of meditation) that allowed them to master the knowledge and thereby able to transmit in simple yet enlightening forms (in Lao) to their students and the common people. 

An interesting note to leave, pondering on oral tradition, links to languages, and preservations of cultures.

Acharn Mun passed away in 1940 at Wat Pa Suthawat, Sakon Nakhon. A small museum was built in his honor where there is an exhibit of his personal belongings and a brief account of his life.

Wax image of Pra Acharn Mun Bhuridatto, 

at Wat Pa Suthawat, Sakon Nakhon

Thai ceramics: an ancient, yet living tradition

Living under the shadow of a greater neighbor such as China has its disadvantages as recounted in my previous post relating the Haw Wars.  It also has many advantages. One boon was the boosting of a prosperous international trade in ceramics in the 13-14th century Sukhothai.

King Mengrai of Chiang Mai, King Ramkamhaeng of Sukhothai, and the Kingdom of Lopburi all sent several diplomatic missions to Chinese courts. Some Chinese potters were probably brought back to Thailand during 13th century as a result of these friendly and profitable visits.  Later around late 14th century, the ban on exports of early Ming Dynasty most likely encouraged frustrated Chinese potters to relocate to several pottery cities around Southeast Asia.

The famous Sangkhalok ceramics of Si Satchanalai flowered around the 14th century. These beautiful green glazed celandon and fish painted stoneware ruled the seas for some 300 years before blue and white porcelain from China took over international Eastern maritime markets. Recent discoveries of numerous shipwrecks, such as the Turiang shipwreck discovered by Sten Sjostrand in the South China Sea, have provided more detailed information about Sukhothai ceramic production than historical records could have provided.

Hundreds of ancient kilns have also been archeologically excavated in several locations all over Thailand.  Most of them were centered around Si Satchanalai, Sukhothai, Suphanburi, and Tak. The Chao Praya  River system obviously had been a key artery of distribution.  Eventually it seemed that the deterioration of river access to Si Satchanalai could have been a major cause for the decline of ceramic trade from Si Satchanalai and subsequent geopolitics shifted the center of power from Sukhothai to Ayudhya, where other products of trade gradually gained more importance over ceramics.

Southeast Asia has an old tradition of pottery that dates back even before the times of Sukhothai.  There were ancient Mon, Kmer, and Vietnamese 8-11th century traditions.  Pots have been excavated from burials dating 6,00BC to 4,000BC. Buried red earthenware were so abundant in Ban Chiang that thousands of years later, a teenager kicks up its shards leading to the discovery of an extensive Bronze Age pottery production.  

Looking around present day common life in Thailand, you'll find evidence abound that such pottery traditions continue to be an important element of Thai culture. From fine high cultured, five-coloured  Benjarong porcelain and imitations of antiqued ceramics sold to tourists and collectors, to commercial modern dining wares for exports and day to day items of household use such as, Ratchaburi dragon water jars, ubiquitous red-tiled roofs and sculptured terra cotta motifs in temples.  

For those who have such as a pottery craze as I do, a tour of just pottery sites in Thailand alone can easily fill up any touring plans.  A day trip out of Bangkok to Ratchaburi is as good a place to start as a river trip down the Chao Praya river to Ko Kret.

There are 42 factories of dragon jar makers in Ratchaburi, all of them descended from early 20th century Chinese pot makers who were brought in to make to pots during the World War when imports of these important jars were not allowed.  You can find a description of how these dragon jars are made in this page of Sea East Asia Pottery.

One can also visit production villages that had evolved out of old pottery communities. Dan Kwian, in Nakorn Rajasima (Korat), about  three hours out of Bangkok is a good detour on a trip to the Pimai Kmer style archeological site.

If you plan a trip up North towards Chiang Mai, drop by to support the Muang Kung Pottery Village.

However, if you have to save your plans of travel for sometime in the future, don't despair. You can just visit online this exquisitely produced Shaw collection website, where you will be able find descriptions of dated ceramic traditions, as well as rare pictures of ancient kilns that dot the geography of Thailand.  You can use the map provided to mark out places you must try to visit when you eventually make it to Thailand.

Admiring the variety and genius of ceramic traditions around the world, old and new, never fails to touch me with the ebb and flow, the persistence of humanity's creative spirit to shape, out of so humble a material such as earth, to produce such venerable objects as these enduring pots and jars... that, even after several hundreds of years buried under sea salt... can still shine their lustrous beauty.

Don't miss checking out the extensively, resourceful Maritime Asia website for detailed information about Sukhothai and Si Satchanalai pottery.

The Haw Wars, 1865-1890 (สงครามปราบฮ่อ)

Around the time that Louis Napoleon Bonaparte's regime was ending in France, the Taiping rebellion having failed in China, King Mongkut (Rama IV)had just gained an acceptance for Siam as a rightful nation in world diplomacy. Between the years 1865 and 1890, the Thai Kingdom's northern parts which was then bordering with the French protectorate Tonkin, were being raided by Chinese rebels that had fled southwards after their defeat in Nanking and other rebellions.

Rama IV

Armed, organized and trained but outlawed warriors banded together under different leaderships who distinguished their different groups by using colored flags. There were red, black, yellow and stripped groups of flagged bandits roaming the country side. The Black Flag group, led by Lui Yongfu was the most legitimate of the colored flags and fought for both the Viet and Chinese rulers against the French.

The Yellow Flags, led by Huang Chongying, were modeled after, but rivalled the Black Flags, failed to gain legitimacy and were pursued by both Qing and Vietanamese armies, as well as their original contenders, the Black Flags.  They were broken and on the run, raiding, looting, and harassing defenseless towns.

Many of those rebels roaming the countryside in the South of China towards the ending of the 19th century were Muslim Chinese, known as Hui in China and Panthay to the Burmese, while in Siam and Laos they were known as Haw.  

By 1872, bandit groups had drifted across the frontier of Laos and were occupying a large part of Laos which was then a tributary state of Thailand. In 1873, the Red Flags sacked Dien Bien Phu (a place where, at that time, French opium dens were making fortunes), and the Stripped Flags gained control of the Plain of Jars and the area of the Phuan (Xieng Khouang).

Several unsuccessful attempts to subdue the rebels were pressed upon by Viet, Laos and Thai kings.  A prince of Phuan was killed in one attempt and a Thai Praya was shot at in another. Each time that the Siamese army retreated, the rebels came back to raid towns. The rebels had equipped themselves with modern repeating rifles and Birminghan-manufactured ammunition and were skilled in guerilla warfare.

The Thai army was mostly made up of untrained men recruited from the North and Northeastern farmlands.  The commanders sent by King Chulalongkorn were unfamiliar with the terrain and logistics.  In one campaign, supplies were lost to the rebels, in another campaign an outpost was lost because its captain fell ill with malaria.  The Thai army's offensive to subdue the Haw bandits took so many years because it was also difficult to fight during rainy seasons.  Without success in one year, the army would have to regroup again the next year to push for another offensive.

In the end, the Thai army was supplied and trained with foreign weapons to match the fighting power of the Haw rebels. A British surveyor, James McCarthy, under hire by the Thai king to map Thai terrain during that period, was an observer of the Haw Wars.  He had noted that on one occasion some of those weapons carried by Thai recruits weren't even loaded!

A successful strategy was finally planned and the Thai army moved in a more coordinated offense, and managed to squeeze the perimeters of the bandits into a smaller territory. After some key towns the Yellow Flags had taken were freed, the Haw bandits were pushed out of the Northeastern borders of Siam and Laos back into China. 

The observation of this particular historical moment is very interesting for me personally due to an unquenchable curiosity to know more about a hometown and family that I hadn't grown up with.  In answer to my constant pestering questions about the past,  my Mom once recounted to me that the Promasakha Na Sakon Nakhon family was related to ours, the Singhakul family (a story that I will tell later in another blogpost).

Sakon Nakhon is a province in the Northeast of Thailand, about two hours from the Mekhong River border with Laos.  When I unearthed, in the scantily recorded history of this town, an interesting record of how the name Promasakha Na Sakon Nakhon was given to a highly esteemed governor of the Muang, relating his role for recruiting and leading people in support of the offensive against the Haw bandits, the Haw Wars became for me an important reference point to find out more about events that had shaped the times of my mother's grandparents.

Since I am now able to use the internet to access sources in English and increasingly more in Thai, I am seeing a clearer picture of how a sleepy town on the edge of empires is, in fact, not as insignificant as one had perceived. Several connections to many other important world events could be drawn from this single event.

The little details recounted by McCarthy of repeating rifles and Birmingham manufactured ammunition opened my eyes to how British imperial ambitions, whether intentional or not, were entwined in that moment.  The name "Haw", before just a name of an ethnic group, led me to discover that they were the same as Hui, Muslim Chinese who were, at that moment in history, leading a serious rebellion against the Qing dynasty.  Those rebels weren't just mindless raiders, they were pretty likely sent to that specific area. Whether as part of mercenaries simply following a campaign to harass French powers in the area, or as part of the Panthay Rebellion's leader's plan to occupy as much area as possible in readiness for his planned move into Burma, I will have to investigate further.

The lengthy campaign against the Haw also revealed in finer details the growing pains and mistakes of then a still evolving administration of the fourth, fifth, and sixth reign of the Chakri dynasty, learning, modernizing bit by bit, on the ground, less than 150 years ago.

The picture of elephants standing in formation with the Thai army above recalled to mind a funny anecdote of how King Rama V had once offered to send elephants to aid the US during its Civil War.

A revelation more relevant to the present, was the idea invoked of how, in actuality, not so far away China is, from the frontiers of Thailand. Our modern maps show that the space between the center of Thailand and the heart of China is quite immense, but if in the 19th century, all that space was takable by rebels, refugees moving over land, in a matter of months, fighting prolonged for decades, the illusion of that safe distance seems rather foolish indeed.  If anything such as a serious political unrest were to happen in that great land up North, Thailand would be receiving the brunt of an unimaginable deluge of refugees. We've never really overcome problems generated by refugee situations of the Vietnam wars, and even now, we are having increasing difficulties managing illegal immigrants in a million or two, escaping the oppression of the Burmese Junta. 

The different colored flags was also an odd reflection on the yellow and red colored political polarization happening currently in Thailand.

Recommended further reading:

Islam and Commerce in Old Yunnan

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haw_wars

สงครามปราบฮ่อ

Surveying and exploring in Siam, by James McCarthy