Journal of the Siam Society; 98

Citation preview

Mr W. R. D. Beckett Dr O. Frankfurter Mr H. Campbell Highet Mr W. A. Graham Professor George Cœdès Phya Indra Montri (Francis Giles) Major Erik Seidenfaden H. H. Prince Dhani Nivat H. R. H. Prince Wan Waithayakon H. H. Prince Dhani Nivat H. H. Prince Prem Purachatra H. S. H. Prince Ajavadis Diskul Phya Anuman Rajadhon H. R. H. Prince Wan Waithayakon Professor Chitti Tingsabadh H. S. H. Prince Subhadradis Diskul Mom Rachawong Patanachai Jayant Dr Piriya Krairiksh Mr Athueck Asvanund Mr Bangkok Chowkwanyun Mrs Bilaibhan Sampatisiri Mom Rachawong Chakrarot Chitrabongs Mr Athueck Asvanund Mrs Bilaibhan Sampatisiri



Honorary Members (with year of election)



Professor Prawase Wasi 1985 H. E. Mr Anand Panyarachun 1992 Mr Dacre Raikes 1992 Phra Dhammapitaka 1995 Mrs Virginia di Crocco 1995 Mr Henri Pagau-Clarac 1995 Mr Term Meetem 1995 Professor Michael Smithies 1996 Mr William Klausner 2000 Dr Pierre Pichard 2000 Thanpuying Putrie Viravaidya 2000 H. E. Dr Thanat Koman 2000 Mr Euayporn Kerdchouay 2001 Professor Prasert na Nagara 2001 Dr Thawatchai Santisuk 2001 Dr Warren Y. Brockelman 2002 Dr Piriya Krairiksh 2002 Dr Sumet Jumsai 2002 Dr Chetana Nagavajara 2004 Dr Tej Bunnag 2004 Dr Peter Skilling 2010

1904–1906 1906–1918 1918–1921 1921–1925 1925–1930 1930–1938 1938–1940 1940–1944 1944–1947 1947–1965 1965–1967 1967–1968 1968–1969 1969–1976 1976–1979 1979–1981 1981–1989 1989–1994 1994–1996 1996–1998 1998–2004 2004–2006 2006–2010 2010–present

From the First International Symposium on Dvāravatī Research, Bangkok, 2009: Laurent Hennequin • French contribution to rediscovery of Dvāravatī archaeology Stephen A. Murphy & Pimchanok Pongkasetkan • Fifty years of research at Dong Mae Nang Muang Nicolas Revire • Iconographical issues in archeology of Wat Phra Men Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert • Nāga-Buddha images of Dvāravatī Edward Van Roy • Mon refugees at capitals of Siam, 1500s to 1800s Bonnie Pacala Brereton • Towards a definition of Isan mural painting Note—Edward Van Roy • Prominent Mon lineages Archives—Kennon Breazeale & Michael Smithies • Bruguière’s journey overland, 1827

ISSN 0857-7099

Volume 98 • 2010

Presidents of the Siam Society

Journal of the Siam Society



JSS Volume 98

2010

The Siam Society

The Siam Society, under Royal Patronage, is one of Thailand’s oldest and most active learned organizations. The object of the Society is to investigate and to encourage the arts and sciences in Thailand and neighbouring countries.

Established in 1904, the Journal of the Siam Society has become one of the leading scholarly publications in South-East Asia. JSS is international in outlook, publishing original articles of enduring value in English. All articles are subject to peer review. The Society also publishes the Natural History Bulletin.

Since its inception, the Society has collected monographs, journals, and material of scholarly interest on Thailand and its neighbours. The Society’s library, open to members, has one of the best research collections in the region.

For those interested in the Society’s library, lectures, tours, publications and other benefits, information is given at the end of the volume on how to become a member.

The Siam Society under Royal Patronage 131 Sukhumvit Soi 21 (Asoke-Montri) Bangkok 10110 Thailand Tel: (+662) 661 6470-7 Fax: (+662) 258 3491 E-mail: [email protected] http://www.siam-society.org

Journal of the Siam Society

Patrons of the Siam Society Patron His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej Vice-Patrons Her Majesty Queen Sirikit His Royal Highness Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn Vice-Patron and Honorary President Her Royal Highness Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn Honorary Vice-Presidents Her Majesty Ashi Kesang Choeden Wangchuck, The Royal Grandmother of Bhutan His Imperial Highness Prince Akishino of Japan His Royal Highness Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark Her Royal Highness Princess Bejaratana Rajasuda Sirisophabannavadi Council of the Siam Society, 2008 – 2010 President

Mr Athueck Asvanund

Vice-President

Mrs  Bilaibhan Sampatisiri

Leader, Natural History Section

Dr Weerachai Nanakorn

Honorary Secretary Honorary Treasurer Honorary Librarian Honorary Editor, JSS Honorary Editor, NHB

Mr  Barent Springsted Mr  Suraya Supanwanich Ms  Anne Sutherland Dr Chris Baker Dr William Schaedla

Members of Council

Mrs  Eileen Deeley Ms Raksaswan Chrongchitpracharon Dr Nirun Jivasantikarn Mr Peter Laverick Mrs Beatrix Latham Mr James D. Lehman H. E. Mr Juan Manuel Lopez Nadal Mr  Paul Russell

Journal of the

Siam Society Volume 98 2010

Editorial Board

Tej Bunnag Michael Smithies Chris Baker Kim Atkinson Kanitha Kasina-Ubol Euayporn Kerdchouay

advisor advisor advisor and honorary editor editor coordinator production coordinator

© The Siam Society 2010 issn

0857-7099

Cover: Lion, stucco, Dvāravatī period. Reportedly found at Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom. On display at Phra Pathom Chedi National Museum, Nakhon Pathom. Image courtesy of local historian Mr Manassak Rak-U and Amarin Printing and Publishing PCL.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the Siam Society. The Journal of the Siam Society is a forum for original research and analysis that is peer-reviewed before publication. Opinions expressed in JSS are those of the authors and do not represent the views or policies of the Siam Society. Printed by Amarin Printing and Publishing Public Company Limited 65/16 Chaiyapruk Road, Taling Chan, Bangkok 10170, Thailand Tel. (662) 422-9000; Fax (662) 433-2742, 434-1385 E-mail: [email protected] http://www.amarin.com

Journal of the Siam Society Volume 98

2010

Contents From the First International Symposium on DvĀravatĪ Research, Bangkok, 2009 The French contribution to the rediscovery of Dvāravatī archaeology Laurent Hennequin Fifty years of archaeological research at Dong Mae Nang Muang, an ancient gateway to the Upper Chao Phraya Basin Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

1 49

Iconographical issues in the archeology of Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom 75 Nicolas Revire Nāga-Buddha images of the Dvāravatī period: A possible link between Dvāravatī and Angkor Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

116

Safe haven: Mon refugees at the capitals of Siam from the 1500s to the 1800s 151 Edward Van Roy Towards a definition of Isan mural painting: Focus on the heartland Bonnie Pacala Brereton

185

Note Prominent Mon lineages from late Ayutthaya to early Bangkok Edward Van Roy

205

From the archives Bruguière’s journey overland from Penang to Ligor, thence to Bangkok, 1827 222 Kennon Breazeale, ed. and Michael Smithies, tr.

vi

Contents

Reviews The Ambiguous Allure of the West: Traces of the Colonial in Thailand, edited by Rachel V. Harrison and Peter A. Jackson Reviewed by Chris Baker

239

Proper Islamic Consumption: Shopping among the Malays in Modern Malaysia, by Johan Fischer Reviewed by Patrick Jory 243 Tourism in Southeast Asia: Challenges and New Directions, edited by Michael Hitchcock, Victor T. King and Michael Parnwell Reviewed by Steve Van Beek

246

Bangkok, a Cultural and Literary History, by Maryvelma O’Neil Reviewed by Michael Smithies

250

Jungle Book: Thailand’s Politics, Moral Panic, and Plunder, 1996–2008, by ‘Chang Noi’ Reviewed by Craig J. Reynolds

254

Thai Forestry: A Critical History, by Ann Danaiya Usher Reviewed by Thomas Enters

257

Thaksin, by Pasuk Phongpaichit and Chris Baker Reviewed by Edward Van Roy

260

People of Virtue: Reconfiguring Religion, Power and Moral Order in Cambodia Today, edited by Alexandra Kent and David Chandler Reviewed by John Tully

264

Dependent Communities: Aid and Politics in Cambodia and East Timor, by Caroline Hughes Reviewed by Benny Widyono

267

The Last Century of Lao Royalty: A Documentary History, by Grant Evans Reviewed by Martin Stuart-Fox

272

Creating Laos: The Making of a Lao Space between Indochina and Siam, 1860–1945, by Søren Ivarsson Reviewed by Holly High

279

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Contents

Imagining Communities in Thailand: Ethnographic Approaches, edited by Shigeharu Tanabe Reviewed by Anthony R. Walker

vii

281

Burmese Buddhist Murals: Vol. 1, Epigraphic Corpus of the Powin Taung Caves, by Christophe Munier and Myint Aung Reviewed by Donald A. Stadtner 283 Books received for review

286

Obituaries Thanpuying Lursakdi Sampatisiri, 1919–2010

289

Yoneo Ishii, 1929–2010 Charles F. Keyes

291

Constance Wilson, 1937–2010 John Hartmann

293

Hans Penth, 1937–2009 Reinhard Hohler

296

Contributors to this issue

297

Notes for contributors

301

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010



The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology Laurent Hennequin

A few generations of French scholars, in close association with their Siamese counterparts who played a leading role, unearthed the civilization of Dvāravatī, by that time all but forgotten. Their first investigations extended from the end of the 19th century to the beginning of the 20th, when French explorers from Cambodia started revealing to the world, and interpreting, what the Siamese had discovered in their territory. The second stage, in the 1920s, was personified by George Cœdès, who identified and named the characteristic Dvāravatī style of art, determined its chronological framework and its source of inspiration in Gupta India, and suggested its Mon provenance. The next generation, from the 1930s to the 1950s, was dominated by Pierre Dupont, who methodically studied Dvāravatī achievements in architecture and sculpture. During the 1950s and 1960s, Cœdès again became involved with the reading of inscriptions that confirmed his earlier hypotheses. The last Frenchman considered here is Jean Boisselier, whose investigations beginning in the 1960s led to the discovery of a pre-Dvāravatī civilization and the local origins of a Buddhist tradition that has been perpetuated to the present day in Thailand.

The French contributed significantly, starting from the end of the 19 th century, to the rediscovery of Dvāravatī civilization in its various aspects—whether epigraphy, archaeology, iconography, art history, Mon studies or the relevant Chinese texts. The contributions of other nationals cannot be dismissed; but as they are nearly always taken into account in French writings on the subject, the latter provide a sufficient overview and quite a complete introduction. Whereas elsewhere in Southeast Asia, whether in Cambodia, Myanmar or Indonesia for example, Western explorers found themselves in a pristine context, with ruins overgrown by the jungle and nearly forgotten, in the case of Siam they would report on sites or objects that had already been unearthed, restored, exhibited in temple museums and somewhat interpreted, in the framework of an enterprise The substance of this article was presented at the First International Dvāravatī Symposium, held at the National Museum, Bangkok on 3 September 2009. The author gratefully acknowledges the grant by the Committee for the Development of Research of the Faculty of Arts, Silpakorn University, Nakhon Pathom that has supported the research in this article. N. B.—Unless otherwise noted, the translations of quotations from the French were made by the present author and are not from the source cited. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010



Laurent Hennequin

mostly religious but not in contradiction with the scientific enterprise of those Westerners; on the contrary, the one could be enriched by the other. In examining the exploratory record in Siam, it is immediately apparent that the French contribution was never single-handed and was always in tandem with the Siamese, whose contribution cannot be ignored. The Siamese opened the field of Dvāravatī studies and continued to create new developments. The first step of this rediscovery—and it could be said, the beginning of Siamese archaeology on the whole—can be dated to the occasion in 1831 when Prince Mongkut, the future Rama IV, then still a monk, went on a pilgrimage to the site of what is now known as Phra Pathom Chedi in Nakhon Pathom. He found the monument in a ruined but still impressive state which he decided to restore, a decision he could fulfill only after he had succeeded to the throne in 1851. The enterprise was fundamentally religious but was accompanied by scientific considerations that were uncommon at the time, involving measurements of the monument, descriptions of its various stages of construction, a survey of the environment, collection of information from the local community and the reading of inscriptions that had been found on location in relation with Singhalese chronicles (Boisselier 1978 and 2000). The initial effort was followed in subsequent generations by methodical work in excavating sites and unearthing objects of various periods, in particular by Prince Damrong Rajanubhab (1862–1943), a son of Rama IV and “father of Siamese history” as he is generally called, whose motives were primarily religious but scientific as well. The French generally followed the progress, reporting on what the Siamese had discovered before them. The French contribution being reviewed here is always, except perhaps at the very beginning, the result of co-operation between the Siamese and the French within an institutional framework more or less precisely defined. The Siamese made discoveries on their own territory, occasionally restored monuments or objects, constituted museums of some sort and made studies about them (although rather rarely). The French kept a record of the discoveries, which was not always done by the local counterparts, reported about them for the international scientific community and analyzed them in the context of Southeast Asian or Eastern civilizations. The French contribution amounted to reports about a reconstructed archaeology that sometimes created difficulties, but also served as raw material for further investigation. I. Exploration Why it befell to the French, at the beginning at least, to follow in the steps of the Siamese in exploring their archaeological domain, is readily apparent on learning who was the first Frenchman to become interested in this field of study. Étienne Aymonier (1844–1929) was a colonial soldier in Cambodia turned administrator, who learnt Khmer language in order to study the history of the country through Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology



its chronicles and, mostly, written inscriptions, in relation with the remains of monuments (Aymonier 1900, xvii). On his mission he explored not only Cambodia extensively, but also Siam, where Khmer inscriptions and ruins were found, all the more so since the provinces where the monumental complex of Angkor Wat was situated still belonged to Siam and were not restored to Cambodia until 1907. He thus paid a visit in 1884 to Wat Bowornniwet in Bangkok, which preserved inscriptions in a sort of museum reputed to be from, among other places, Nakhon Pathom, or Phra Pathom in Nakhon Chaisri monthon [circle] to use the administrative names and divisions of the time, and consequently paid a visit to the site of Nakhon Pathom. His method consisted, in this case, in following the steps of the Siamese authorities who had started on their own to explore their archaeological heritage. As he found nothing Khmer in the material originating from Nakhon Pathom, he did not report on his visit until his successor Lucien Fournereau’s book had been published, when he very briefly discussed some debatable points from the latter’s report. His most interesting comments concern the name of Phra Pathom: he states that the word Pathom means primeval (Aymonier 1901, 58), and later that “Phrah Pathom … might well ... have been one of the most ancient places of introduction of Buddhism in Indochina, not to say the primeval one: this could admittedly be deducted from its name, the Sanskrit form of which means ‘primeval’, ‘first’. Some locals, mostly Cambodians, call the monument ‘Preah Bantom’, the Sanskrit form of this latter word being ‘Padma lotus’, which amounts to giving the temple the name of ‘Sacred Lotus’.” (Aymonier 1901, 88) The place was originally called Phra Banthom at the time of Rama IV (Thiphakon Wong 1961, vol. 2, 114); but the correct translation is rather “Sleeping Buddha” (Boisselier 1978, 12 and 2000, 164). In any case, from the very beginning, it was known in French circles that Nakhon Pathom was reputed to be the place of introduction of Buddhism in Siam; the religious importance of the site for the Siamese was acknowledged, although the various foreign authors gave little credit to what they considered mere legends. Though Aymonier’s testimony is not very instructive for the understanding of Dvāravatī archaeology, it elucidates important characteristics of the rediscovery process. First, like all his successors, Aymonier considered ancient Siamese history from the perspective of Cambodia. That was because he surveyed Khmer material in Siam, of which he did find a lot; but he realized, at least from what can be inferred from his writings since he is never explicit in this matter, that Siam had an archaeological domain that did not belong to the Khmer sphere and that had to be treated independently. The second point is that he did not make discoveries himself, but followed the steps of the Siamese who had already started to investigate their archaeology by setting up museums and restoring (or reconstructing) ruined monuments. The second Frenchman who contributed to Dvāravatī archaeology was an architect, Lucien Fournereau (1846–1906; see Hennequin 2006c; 2009), who Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010



Laurent Hennequin

first went to Cambodia to work with Aymonier on Khmer monuments. At the end of the 19th century Fournereau was entrusted by the French Ministry of Education and Fine Arts with a mission to explore Siam—implicit acknowledgement that the ancient history of Siam was a field of its own, independent of the history of Cambodia. Moreover, the sphere of investigation was limited to southern central Siam, embracing Nakhon Pathom, Ayuthaya and Sukhothai, thus defining the archaeology of the country more or less according to what many colonial agents considered the borders of the country. He surveyed Siam twice, in 1891 and 1892, concentrating mostly on the towns mentioned above. Apart from travel accounts for the general public and articles that blended archaeology with travel accounts, his book Le Siam ancien [ancient Siam] was published by Musée Guimet, Paris, in two volumes: the first in 1895, in which all the material of interest here is to be found (Fournereau 1895), and the second in 1908 (Fournereau 1908), after the author’s untimely death on 17 December 1906 (Barth 1908, i)1 , that was edited by Auguste Barth (see page 6ff.) on the basis of Fournereau’s notes. Fournereau saw more or less the same things as Aymonier, but was more precise in his descriptions, and followed the latter’s steps in the path already cleared by the Siamese. He thus went first to Wat Bowornniwet; then, among other places, to Nakhon Pathom, where he was most certainly disappointed to see a modern building covering, as he reported, an antique one which could no longer be seen and where he could only record the artifacts kept in the temple museum as well as a couple of inscriptions. Regarding the architecture, he had only legends or chronicles to rely on; and reported, actually rather accurately, that the original monument had been built in ancient times as an act of redemption: Tradition attributes to Phaya Bâla, King of Râjapurî and Kañcanapurî, the foundation of the temple and the linga it contains as an expiatory offering following the parricide that he committed unknowingly in a single combat. The monarch is said to have reigned from the Year of the Hare until the year 552 of an era that is not specified2 (Fournereau 1895, 116).

Curiously, Fournereau’s mission in Nakhon Pathom and his contribution to the study of Dvāravatī civilization are generally ignored in the Thai literature on the subject (Fine Arts Department 1999a, 18; Phatharaphong 2002, 2; Sakchai 2004, 15), where the assumption is that the domain was first explored by Lunet de Lajonquière, who visited the region only some 10 years later. 2 Various and quite contradictory dates are given in the chronicles. (See Boisselier 1978, 16; 2000, 168, who relies on Rama IV’s chronicler.) If the date given by Fournereau is interpreted as belonging to the Great Era, the equivalent is 630 CE, which rather agrees with what can be gleaned from other sources. Fournereau refrains from suggesting a precise date for the ruins he was describing, but he probably supposed that they dated approximately to that period. 1

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology



In the same passage, he also notes that the monument had twice been encased in a larger one, the last one being recent, dating to the 1850s. Fournereau hypothesizes, rather gratuitously and in contradiction to the testimonies he had obtained from the Siamese, that the people who had founded this civilization were Śivaites before professing Buddhism, probably because that was the case in Cambodia and, for him, certainly was so in other Southeast Asian countries (Fournereau 1895, 49). On this account, Fournereau’s testimony may not be very conclusive; but his report is of some interest, although beyond our subject, because it provides descriptions and pictures of the monument as it was in the 1890s, which is not quite the same as it is now. An assessment of the changes that the site has undergone during more than a century is therefore possible. The author published a picture that was probably taken between 1869 and 1870, quite a few years before his own visit and is certainly the oldest known image of the monument (Hennequin 2009, 136, fig. 1; 143, note 5). Fournereau also devoted a few pages, with pictures and text, to some artifacts that the Siamese had gathered in a sort of museum within the precincts of the temple. By his account, the installation left much to be desired with objects piled one upon another: two Wheels of the Law, a stele showing the Buddha seated with legs pendant, preaching to monks and hermits (see figure 1; although Fournereau did not identify the scene), two carved blocks (that are now identifiable as abacuses for supporting a Wheel of the Law; see figure 20), a linga and a somasutra (figure 2). His comments on those objects and the collection were rather simple, so different were the remains in general from those known in Cambodia and elsewhere. His collection of pictures constitutes an important legacy for research. First, it revealed to the general and scientific public a forgotten ancient civilization with some of its icons; namely, the Wheel of the Law, the Buddha seated legs pendant and the carved abacus. It also revealed a civilization professing religions from India: Buddhism as well as Śivaism, which is often discounted, although with a somewhat original iconography. Last but not least, a point that has so far been rather neglected, the collected pictures help in documenting the history of the individual pieces and—along with other pictures of sites frequently photographed by French visitors—retracing more than 100 years of Siamese museology. For example, according to sources from Phra Pathom Chedi National Museum, the stele representing the Buddha seated with legs pendant (figure 1) was found at Wat Sai in Nakhon Chaisri, some 20 kilometres away from Phra Pathom Chedi, and installed in the collection by order of Rama V (Fine Arts Department 2005, 132–134). According to Pierre Dupont, the somasutra was found in Noen Hin, near Wat Phra Prathon, some 10 kilometres distant (Dupont 1939, 358–359). The various artifacts were thus not always found at the very site of Phra Pathom Chedi, as is generally thought, but gathered from Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010



Laurent Hennequin

places nearby with the intention of establishing a museum. The Siamese authorities had evidently defined a “Dvāravatī style”, certainly only intuitively but with good judgment, organised in a collection quite homogeneous, contrary to what is often seen in temple museums today which mix periods and types of objects. Another interesting chapter in Fournereau’s text is devoted to two inscriptions found at the time of Rama IV and installed in a small building of Chinese style in the precinct of Phra Pathom Chedi, where they remain today3. Fournereau made a rubbing of them4 (figure 3) that he sent to Auguste Barth (1834–1916), a reputed specialist of old Indian scripts in France, who read them and made a comment that was included in Fournereau’s book5. Barth transcribed and translated the text, identifying it as the Ye dhammā formula: “the two inscriptions contain, under different forms, the same formula, called ‘profession of faith’, a kind of Buddhist credo equally spread in Sanskrit and in Pāli.” (Barth in Fournereau 1895, 84) This was enough to confirm that the civilization under consideration professed, among other religions as shown by the artifacts, a Buddhist faith that used Pāli language and an Indian script, thus clearly characterizing this civilization as historical or at least proto-historic. Neither Barth nor Fournereau ventured to date these inscriptions; however, their study of the characters indicated a dating of before the 10th century (Fournereau 1895, 85) and probably contemporary with a Sanskrit inscription, which was also reproduced by Fournereau and more precisely dated to the 7th century (Barth in Fournereau 1895, 125). Whatever the case, the approximation was sufficient to exclude many hypotheses, in particular the possibility that they dated to the time of King Aśoka, 3rd century BCE, as suggested by the Siamese (Fournereau 1895, 84). Fournereau also comments on the history of the Chao Phraya Valley and the supposed process of Indianization. Although they have become obsolete, two Actually, only one is still visible; the other is hidden by a statue in a case, but is reputed to be still in place. 4 Fournereau (1895, x–xi) entrusted the documents he had gathered to Musée Guimet, but nothing could be found there. Aymonier (1900, p. xvii), who made a rubbing of the same inscriptions, sent copies of his rubbings to Société asiatique, Bibliothèque nationale de France, L’Institut, École des hautes études and École des langues orientales (now Institut national des langues et civilisations orientales). 5 Barth read other inscriptions collected by Fournereau, in particular some which were preserved in Wat Bowornniwet in Bangkok. One that supposedly came from a temple called Wat Maheyong (Mayem) in Nakhon Chaisri actually comes from Nakhon Sri Thammarat; the origin of the others is dubious as well (Aymonier 1901, 77; Cœdès 1961, 34). Barth’s reading of the inscriptions from Nakhon Pathom was reproduced in Cœdès’s second volume of inscriptions with no further comment (Cœdès 1929, 11–12; 1961, 1) and the authorship of the reading is often attributed to Cœdès in Thai literature (Fine Arts Department 1999b, 111). Moreover, a new reading of the inscriptions by the Fine Arts Department shows that its authors did not take into account the Fournereau–Barth testimony (National Library 1996, 83 and 92). 3

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology



points may be noted. The first is that Fournereau mentioned the link in ancient times between the Chao Phraya Valley and Haripuñjaya (now Lamphun) farther north, probably on the basis of some chronicles that he does not quote (Fournereau 1895, 51), a connection that was substantiated on firmer grounds a few decades later by Cœdès with the translation of chronicles. The second is of greater consequence: Fournereau suggested that the “Kingdom of Dvāravatī” could have been located in Siam. Specialists of ancient Chinese texts had already surmised that the name of the entity called by the Buddhist pilgrims “To lo po ti” (sometimes rendered “Duoluobodi”) probably derived from the Sanskrit word Dvāravatī (“with doors”), a name used for a town in Indian mythology. The same texts stated that this Southeast Asian “kingdom” was located between present-day Cambodia and Myanmar, but no connection had so far been made between the name and contemporary archaeological material. (On the story, see Cœdès 1963, 285-287; Jacques 2009.) In his book, Fournereau6 (1895, 53) suggested that Dvāravatī referred to Ayuthaya, giving no justification for this, but certainly because the full name of the ancient capital city of Siam contained the word Dvāravatī. In another passage he remarks: “The conquest [of present day Thailand by the Thai] was completed in 1350 with the fall of the town of Dvāravatī, which became, under the name of Ayuthia, the great capital of the Thai southern empire.” (Fournereau 1895, 57) In reaction to such statements, Paul Pelliot (1878–1945), a specialist of Chinese chronicles, commented a few years later that: There is no trace [...] of an ancient town established at Ayuthia prior to the middle of the 14th century; it is thus probable that we have to locate tentatively Dvāravatī in the area of Lopburī, the ancient Lvo or Lavo, which seems to have been the most important centre in the Menam [Chao Phraya] lower valley before Ayuthia (Pelliot 1904, 223, note 5). Developing the idea that the territory of present-day Thailand could not have been populated by the Thai around the 7th century, he suggested (1904, 230–231) that “The country of Dvāravatī was certainly either Mon or Khmer”, noting that the languages of those two peoples were quite similar and that the claimed extension of Funan at the time of its apogee, from the mouth of Mekhong to the Gulf of Bengal, could be explained by the community held between those peoples now distinct and separated (Pelliot 1904, 230-231). In these few lines, ideas were sounded that were Chavannes, a specialist in Chinese ancient texts, suggested the same idea at about the same time (Chavannes 1894). 6

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010



Laurent Hennequin

to be developed later by other authors, although there was no positive evidence at the time7. Next among French explorers to pursue Dvāravatī studies was Étienne Edmond Lunet de Lajonquière (1861–1933), another military officer turned archaeologist (Hennequin 2006a). Like his predecessors, he surveyed, after Annam, the archaeology of Cambodia, followed by a first survey in Siam from October 1904 to May 1905 on a mission from the newly founded École française d’ExtrêmeOrient (EFEO; Lunet 1986, 1). An important change came about in the terms of his mission: whereas his two predecessors, as well as himself initially, had been sent by French institutions, Lunet was hired by the Siamese government to explore the archaeological domain of the country. When exploring Siam for the first time in 1904 and 1905, he accompanied Louis Finot, then director of EFEO, for part of his travels, and the two men were invited by Prince Damrong Rajanubhab to meet him as he was interested in their investigations (BEFEO 1904, 1142; Lunet 1986, 84). It was certainly on this occasion that Prince Damrong and Lunet agreed that the latter should investigate and document, under the supervision of Siamese authorities, the archaeological sites of Siam as he had done in other countries. Not only did the French consistently follow the steps of the Siamese in exploring the archaeology of the country, but also, starting from this time, they did so as employees of the Siamese Government and under its supervision. The situation was to remain basically the same for the following generations of French scholars, with some variations in status. Lunet thus received a grant from the Siamese government in 1907 to perform his work for them (BEFEO 1908, 629; Hennequin 2006b, 154–155) and launched his multi-stage mission in 1908. The first part consisted in the exploration of Angkor Wat (which had been returned to Cambodia the year before) with funding from EFEO. The second part was the exploration of Siam with the financial help and supervision of the Siamese authorities. A third part was a visit to southern India on his return journey to France. The fourth part was a leave in France for the author to put his notes in order and write his inventories (BEFEO 1907, 407; BEFEO 1908, Contrary to what is often said in Thai literature (Fine Arts Department 1999a, 18; Phatarapong 2002, 2; Sakchai 2004, 15; Usa 2009a, 93), it was not because many inscriptions in Mon had been found in Thailand that Pelliot conceived this hypothesis. No such inscriptions had been found or read by then. The confusion probably comes from the translation into Thai of a text by Cœdès in which he stated that he supposed that the population of the lower Chao Phraya valley was Mon, because inscriptions in that language had been found there—as Pelliot had supposed before him for other reasons. Cœdès had never implied that Pelliot had read these inscriptions (Cœdès 1952, 30). The translation of this text, published in the second edition of the second volume of inscriptions, encourages the attribution of the idea of a link between the inscriptions and the population to Pelliot (Cœdès 1961, 55); and all the more so the quotation of this passage out of context in the same book (Cœdès 1961, 3–4). 7

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology



588 and 629). For the Siamese project, Lunet regularly met with and was advised by Prince Damrong (Lunet 1909a, 165; 1909c, 353–354). After one of their meetings, Lunet suggested that the director of EFEO should bestow on the Prince the title of corresponding member of the institution, which was quickly granted (Hennequin 2006, 43; BEFEO 1908, 285 and 331). The original objective of the mission in Siam, from April to October 1908, is not clear. According to mission documents, the explorer was to concentrate on the southern peninsular regions, where recent discoveries had been made, thus taking into account a part of the Siamese territory that the other archaeologists had tended to neglect. Heavy rains however prevented him from accomplishing that goal; in the end he made a general survey of Siamese archaeology, mostly in the central regions of the country (BEFEO 1908, 629). From his notes taken during his two Siamese missions, first between 1904 and 1905 (the less important one) and again in 1908, Lunet produced several manuscripts, three of which are of special interest. The first is a diary of his travels with remarks on the preservation of the archaeology of Siam with many illustrations, which was published in the Bulletin de la Commission archéologique de l’Indochine (Lunet 1909a) and again that same year in the Bulletin de l’École française d’Extrême-Orient (BEFEO), but without illustrations (Lunet 1909c). The second work is a description of what he calls the archaeological domain of Siam that he organized into different periods, published in the same issue of the Bulletin de la Commission archéologique de l’Indochine (Lunet 1909b). The last article reproduces the detailed notes taken on the various sites, monuments and artifacts that the author saw during, mostly, his 1908 mission (Lunet 1912). He did in Siam what he could not do when establishing the inventory of Khmer monuments; namely, to organize the field in periods and civilizations, mostly on religious criteria, probably thanks to the investigative work that the Siamese had already accomplished. In any case, it was Prince Damrong who had recommended itineraries to him and thus delimited the extent of his investigation (Lunet 1909a, 165). Lunet’s contribution consisted in enlarging the geographical extension of the civilization, as yet unnamed, without restricting it to the site of Nakhon Pathom. He identified an area belonging to the same culture at a contemporary period, covering the regions of Nakhon Pathom, Ratchaburi (Khao Ngu), Suphanburi, Prachinburi and Petchabun (Sri Thep), all places that he had visited (with the exception of the last one) and reported on. Before his second visit, Lunet considered that the archaeology of Siam prior to the arrival of the Thai was tributary to Khmer culture (Lunet 1907, 320), contrary to his predecessors who implicitly recognized its originality. In 1908, he readily recanted his first impression and admitted the originality of Siamese archaeological remains. He described the characteristics of this civilization as follows, in comparison with Cambodia (Lunet 1909a, 179): Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

10





Laurent Hennequin

1. “Town precincts with, usually, an irregular design, whereas the same constructions in Cambodia are rigorously rectangular; 2. “Sculptures in the round or in low relief, with a highly superior craftsmanship; the folds of the dress, the features of the faces and the hair dress of the various people represented are quite different and clearly recall similar works in the Dravidian school of art; 3. “Monuments nearly always built in bricks with a design unknown among the Kambujas; 4. “Fragments of inscriptions on stone or terracotta, the writing characters of which are related to the alphabets of Southern India.”

In conclusion he remarks: “The people who left … these vestiges seem to have professed Buddhism. They built huge stūpa, adorned caves with images of the Master carved in the live rock or modelled with stucco and erected in the holy places a number of wheels (probably the semas of modern pagodas8) …” (Lunet 1909a, 180). Lunet also described artifacts and published illustrations of some of them, mostly in the form of drawings of a rather poor quality. He reported on the same objects as Fournereau, usually with different specimens; namely, Wheels of the Law, Buddha images seated with legs pendant (including the great specimen carved in the rock at Khao Ngu Cave, Ratchaburi province) and abacuses. He added new subject material characteristic of this school of art: a crouching deer (figure 4), the Buddha standing between two acolytes on the head of a beaked monster now called panasbodi (figure 5), grinding stones and ablution pedestals or bases (Lunet 1909b, 218–224; 1912, 110–113). Like his predecessors, Lunet made rubbings of a couple of inscriptions that he published and sent to Louis Finot (1864–1935) for reading. The latter identified fragments of Ye dhammā formulas, which provided no new material of interest; he suggested, however, a palaeographic dating of the 8th century (Finot 1910, 148, 154), formally confirming for the first time what had been presumed. Although he managed to identify a verisimilar dating after his 1908 survey, Lunet refrained from going beyond a simple description of his findings. He did not try to draw comparisons with the Cham or Khmer achievements that he had seen, except negatively as shown above, or the Indian art that he was acquainted with. Neither did he try to find a name for the civilization he was considering; he used Fournereau had identified the objects seen in Nakhon Pathom as Wheels of the Law, but as he doubted the antiquity of Buddhism on the site, he also suggested that they could be the wheels of the carriage of some Brahmanical divinity (1895, 121–122). Although Lunet de Lajonquière identifies them here as sema (sacred border demarcation stones), they had been correctly identified from the very beginning and the uncertainty among the foreigners did not remain as long as is sometimes said (Boisselier 1987, 89). 8

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

11

the purely negative label of “Indian non-Cambodian” subgroup within the larger “non-Thai” group (Lunet 1909b, 188). II. Classification After publication of Lunet de Lajonquière’s last article on the subject in 1912, another major figure in Dvāravatī studies appeared: George Cœdès (1886–1969), who in that same year wrote a very brief review of the article giving the complete transcriptions of the inscriptions it published, a feature lacking in Finot’s note, with a brief comment. Cœdès certainly did not then suspect that he would himself be generating significant contributions in the same vein some 10 years hence. Like his predecessors, Cœdès studied Cambodia, in his case through the reading of Sanskrit and Khmer inscriptions, before turning to Siam. Like Lunet, he was hired by the Siamese government, but on a permanent basis from 1918 to 1929, as a full-time employee of the National Library (Baffie 1999). Unlike his predecessors, he was a scholar and his most important task was twofold: to publicize recent discoveries by the Siamese, which were quite significant, and to organize the rather abundant material found to date, consider it in context and associate with it some basic concepts. This task was performed when Cœdès was in permanent contact with Prince Damrong at the National Library, where the two men worked so closely that it is difficult, and often pointless, to determine who originated suchand-such an idea. Cœdès began his work of communicating the archaeological discoveries to the public with a conference given, apparently in French, at the Siam Society in Bangkok on 2 October 1922 concerning a collection of Siamese votive tablets gathered by Prince Damrong, the text of which was later published in France (Cœdès 1925a; 1926a; 1954, 240). In the article, he attempted to classify the various schools and periods of Thai art, starting from the so-called Dvāravatī/Nakhon Pathom “group” (or period) to the Ratanakosin period, including Sukhothai and Ayuthaya. Cœdès had not originally intended to define a classification system, but simply to organize a time frame for the various artefacts so far collected in the different rooms of the new museum in Bangkok, which was to open a few years later (Cœdès 1939, 193). Nonetheless, his informal frame of reference has come to be regarded as the official classification system for Thai art history and is still provided in most schoolbooks. Cœdès’s classification for the later periods did not represent new thinking, since Prince Damrong’s research in that area was already available; but it was innovative for the more ancient periods, for which the author could, in some cases, apply his knowledge in epigraphy. Cœdès posits a few basic concepts, some of which may not be completely new but are fundamental for Dvāravatī studies, and which he could elucidate with his scholarly expertise (figure 6). His approach consisted in: Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

12





Laurent Hennequin

1. Establishing a specific group, suggesting that it could be associated with the “Dvāravatī Kingdom” mentioned in the Chinese chronicles; 2. Identifying the scene on some tablets as representing the Great Miracle of Śrāvastī, with the Buddha seated legs pendant, as in other statues or reliefs in Nakhon Pathom, Ratchaburi, Lopburi, Suphanburi and Ayuthaya; 3. Making a comparison with the Gupta style of art in India; 4. Noting the Ye dhammā inscriptions on some of the tablets; 5. Concluding, from this deductive process, that the votive tablets under consideration may be dated to the 5th to 7th centuries CE and that a Buddhist population, culturally “Indianized”, occupied the given territory at that time.

By putting his facts together, he could identify the main features of the recently discovered civilization and assign it a geographical extension, as well as identify precisely its source of inspiration and social-cultural context (Cœdès 1925a, 152–154). Retrospectively, at least, that is how he appeared to have proceeded. The fundamental assertions were not yet so clear and became clarified bit by bit over time. Cœdès first identified a Nakhon Pathom group (called Phra Pathom) with two sub-groups: one had no specific name but soon became known as the “Dvāravatī group”, while the other, with Khmer influences, later became the “Lopburi group”. The association of the first sub-group with the label Dvāravatī was only suggested in a footnote (Cœdès, 1925a, 152–153) and had not been formally adopted. An English translation was published soon after the French version, in 1926, in which the reference to Dvāravatī was omitted (Cœdès 1926a, 7; 1954, 156). A Thai version was also published, probably written by Cœdès himself9, wherein the author took the opportunity to update his material. The results were confusing, as the introduction retained the first version of the classification of a Phra Pathom group with two subgroups, while the captions of the pictures bore the labels of Dvāravatī and Lopburi groups, or “periods”, as has come to be the term (Cœdès 1926b). Review of his writings reveals that Cœdès did not initially express his ideas so precisely as they were eventually to become; nonetheless, he laid the foundations of his views. More significantly, an anomaly arose that is not uncommon in such The introduction by Prince Damrong to Cœdès’s subsequent publication in Thai that presented the collection of the National Museum Bangkok in 1928 states that this Thai version had been written by Cœdès himself (Damrong 1928, a). It was probably the same for this translation of the text on the votive tablets. Additionally, the French and Thai versions are different in concept and content: the French text is a scientific study whereas the Thai version, very often reprinted, is rather a pious book for the edification of the reader. 9

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

13

situations: French, English and Thai versions were published that were not entirely equivalent, producing quite a few misunderstandings among the various readers and some misunderstanding of the various issues. Cœdès’s subsequent publications were sufficient to dispel the confusion, in any case. A passage in one of the author’s numerous contributions of the time reveals how he conceived another key hypothesis. In 1925, Cœdès published a French translation of Pāli chronicles concerning, among other things, the ancient history of Haripuñjaya (Lamphun). These chronicles indicated that the population was Mon, as was confirmed by inscriptions in Mon language found in situ; and, in brief, that the city of Haripuñjaya had been founded by colonists from Lopburi, where a pillar inscribed with a text in Mon had been found (figure 7). Cœdès also established the connection between the non-Khmer artifacts found in Lopburi and those from Nakhon Pathom, in particular the pillars and Buddha images. From this evidence, he began to suspect—after Pelliot—that the Chao Phraya valley had been populated in ancient times by a Mon-speaking Buddhist people, including the lower part of the basin where no conclusive traces of a Mon-speaking population had yet been found (Cœdès 1925b, 16–18). Developing the idea was beyond the scope of the translation of the chronicles; that was accomplished in Cœdès’s second volume of inscriptions published in 192910, where he organized various elements that so far had been scattered and left to the reader to piece together rather than consolidated and affirmed (figure 8). The second volume begins with an introduction containing a chapter entitled “The Kingdom of Dvāravatī”, marking the adoption of that label from then on. It starts with the assertion that the Khmer polity of Lopburi was not the most ancient in the territory of present-day Thailand, as had previously been thought (Damrong 1919), but had probably been built on a more ancient site that dated to Dvāravatī times. The text describes the statues found in Lopburi, Ayuthaya, Nakhon Pathom and Ratchaburi that he provisionally called “pre-Khmer”, defining their iconographic and stylistic characteristics, and leading to comparison with Gupta art. Cœdès dates this material to the 6th or 7th century on stylistic and epigraphic grounds11, remarking that the Chinese chronicles mention a To-lo-po-ti Kingdom at about the same time, in a

This collection of inscriptions was published after the catalogue of the National Museum, dated 1928, that is discussed below. However quite a few details indicate that it was written before then: it was announced as under printing in 1926 (Cœdès 1926, 7; 1954, 156); the latest reference in the bibliography dates to 1925, whereas more recent works are mentioned in an addendum; some objects said to be in provincial museums in the 1929 text (e. g., the Statue of Wat Ro at the Ayuthaya Museum [Cœdès 1929, 1, note 3]) are said to have been transferred to the National Museum, Bangkok in the 1928 publication (Statue of Wat Ro, Cœdès 1928, pl. II). 11 Cœdès later conceded that the period should be extended from the 6th to the 11th century (Cœdès 1939, 194). 10

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

14

Laurent Hennequin

region corresponding to where these objects were found. He notes, too, that the name of this supposed capital-kingdom was incorporated in the name of the later capital of Ayuthaya. He estimates the degree to which Dvāravatī art might have influenced Southeast Asian art and adds that the population was probably Mon, as traces of the language were evident in Lopburi, Haripuñjaya and perhaps even on an inscription from Ratchaburi. His text ends by evoking the decline of the “Kingdom” under pressure of both the Khmer and the Thai. Finally, he reproduces Barth’s reading of the Nakhon Pathom inscriptions as a reminder, as published in Fournereau (Cœdès 1929, 1–4, 11–12). This methodical description of the “Kingdom of Dvāravatī” was the first of its kind, with quite a few bibliographical references. It relied mostly on Cœdès’s other works, not only for the interpretation of some inscriptions, the comparison with Gupta art and the hypothesis of a Mon population at the time, but also for the historical account of the Khmer and Thai advances as seen in the northern Pāli chronicles that he had translated and another study on Khmer sculpture not mentioned earlier in the present article. The collection of inscriptions also contained several photographs of artifacts, other than of the inscriptions, mostly from the collection of Nakhon Pathom Museum. The photographs complemented the survey that was presented to the public; quite a few had never been published before, in particular those of Buddha images and the inscribed pillar from Lopburi. A second edition of the second volume of the compendium of inscriptions was published some 30 years afterward, with updated information but without the introduction and the photographs; the reason being given in the new introduction that numerous publications on the subject had appeared since the first edition and had made those elements obsolete. Such an abridgement could have been another cause for misunderstanding, since quite a few of Cœdès’s main ideas had first been presented or at least had germinated in a text that is no longer available, although the title under which it had originally been published is still extant. Another notable text by Cœdès is the catalogue of the collection of the National Museum at Bangkok, which had recently been established (Cœdès 1928a). While the introductions to the collection of inscriptions are primarily focused on the most ancient periods of Siamese history, the catalogue of the Museum presents a general survey of all the art-historical periods and styles of the country. Consequently this book is generally referred to in considering either Cœdès’s works or the classification of Thai arts. Because it was to be a general guide to a collection, however, it was not written with the same scientific rigour as the later one discussed above. The same ideas about the art of Dvāravatī are argued less forcefully and with greater emphasis on their aesthetic aspects. Nonetheless, the influence that it may have had in the diffusion of knowledge about Dvāravatī art and interest in Thai art in general must not be underestimated; especially since Dvāravatī art had by then become considered a distinct entity in its cultural context. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

15

This catalogue marks the first time in his iconographical descriptions that Cœdès mentions the position of the Buddha with the two hands in the same teaching gesture (figure 9)—the vitarka-mudrā (Cœdès 1928a, 20)12. In spite of the comparative abundance of specimens found so far and of the attention paid to them, a characteristic feature of Dvāravatī art had remained unidentified. Similarly, images of Buddha seated on the beaked monster panasbodi are never mentioned in any of Cœdès’s texts, probably because their iconography could not yet be understood, although Lunet’s accounts reveal that they had already entered the collections of Dvāravatī art, at least in Nakhon Pathom (Lunet 1909b, fig. 15, p. 220). Another text by Cœdès of this period is devoted to the site of Pong Tuk in present-day Kanchanaburi province, where the Fine Arts Department had recently unearthed remains dating to Dvāravatī times (Cœdès 1928b). While the discoveries did not add anything new to knowledge about this style, the following three items of the subject matter deserve attention for different reasons. The first concerns a bronze Mediterranean lamp (Cœdès 1928b, 236). Its origin and date remain uncertain (Picard 1955; Cœdès 1964a, 60–61; Brown and MacDonnell 1989; and Borrell 2008). Nonetheless, the evidence of contacts, one way or another, between the Dvāravatī civilization and the Mediterranean world in ancient times is irrefutable. The finding was too isolated, however, to permit larger conclusions before further discoveries could take place, so nothing could be made of the finding at that time. The second point, related to the first, is the discovery of communication routes within Dvāravatī territory that connected Nakhon Pathom and the hinterland, and most probably other lands beyond the Peninsula through the Three Pagodas Pass (Cœdès 1928b, Pl. 20). Cœdès, like all the French scholars before and after him, took for granted that the different Dvāravatī sites had been located in the uplands; whereas the Siamese generally considered that they had been seaports in ancient times—as early as 1919, from a suggestion by Prince Damrong (1919, 65). The hypothesis, like any, could have been discussed; but instead it was ignored on the French side. The third point was the uncovering of architectural remains. So far, no evidence of construction in durable material had emerged. Apart from that, the findings were too meager and isolated for any conclusion to be drawn: Cœdès was certain only that there was no parallel anywhere in Dvāravatī country with what could be found in Cambodia. Though remnants of buildings showed some of the distinctive characteristics of Dvāravatī architecture, academically it was still

In the passage devoted to iconography in the collection of inscriptions, the specific mudrā is not mentioned (Cœdès 1929, 1). The statues with missing hands most certainly originally had a symmetric gesture, but are interpreted as being asymmetric (e. g., Statue of Wat Khoy, Cœdès 1929, 15). 12

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

16

Laurent Hennequin

too early for attempts to elaborate on the findings. Something else remains to be mentioned on this question: Cœdès made the only report on the Pong Tuk site and apparently no other objects than those he illustrated had been found there at the time. A new round of excavation was undertaken just after his visit (Cœdès 1928a, pl. V); however, neither reports nor other discoveries have been heard of from that time. The present-day ruins have become too dilapidated and have been too much restored to be investigated yet again, so the testimony of Cœdès is all that remains to be considered. In the archaeological sphere, such a state of affairs applies in many other cases with other authors. Cœdès left Siam for Viet Nam in 1929 to become director of EFEO and did not produce studies on Dvāravatī subjects for a while. However, he remained involved in Siamese archaeology to the end of his life, administratively and later scientifically as well. By the time he left Siam, he had established basic concepts, two of which remained purely hypothetical for some time afterward: (a) the name Dvāravatī, which had become widely accepted; and (b) the Mon ethnicity of the population of the supposed Dvāravatī kingdom. Cœdès’s presence looms large in the remainder of the present account. In the very year that he left Siam, Cœdès became involved in organizing a mission for himself and Jean-Yves Claeys (1896–1979), an architect of the EFEO archaeology service. The latter’s role in the mission was to survey the archaeological remains of the whole country in terms of the classification system established by the National Museum at Bangkok (Cœdès 1951, 460). It was organized jointly by Cœdès and Prince Damrong and performed between October and December 1929 by Claeys, who was accompanied by Luang Boribal Buribhand (1897–1986; see Pichard 2006, 7513) and occasionally by Cœdès (BEFEO 1930, 468–469). Although replete with many interesting points, the article that Claeys wrote after his mission is not very instructive concerning the archaeology of Dvāravatī in general, as most of the extant material had been thoroughly examined by Cœdès only recently and, like his predecessors, Claeys had gone to Phra Pathom Chedi and visited the museum that others had already reported on, and had nothing new to add. The one item of note here is that Claeys determined that a carved stone representing a makara, already published by Lunet de Lajonquière and preserved at the time in Phra Pathom Chedi (and now in Phra Pathom Chedi National Museum), belonged to the throne of the Buddha seated with legs pendant that was enshrined in Wat Na Phra Men in Ayuthaya—it must have been transferred there from Nakhon Pathom at an unknown date, but certainly during the Ayuthaya period (Claeys 1931, 396–397). The circumstance had already been surmised (Cœdès 1929, 3; Damrong 1969, 163), but only on stylistic grounds. Nobody before Claeys had checked whether Contrary to what Pichard says, the text by Claeys is from 1931 and not 1929, which is the date of the mission. 13

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

17

the pieces fitted together; his enterprise was probably the result of another case of fruitful co-operation between the French and the Siamese, the latter giving leads that the former would follow up. III. Excavation After a period of intense activity during the 1920s, some 10 years would pass before another Frenchman emerged to explore the archaeology of Dvāravatī: Pierre Dupont (1908–1955; see Hennequin 2008a and 2008b). Dupont began his career as an orientalist at Musée Guimet in Paris, where he studied archaeology under Philippe Stern. He had already produced two articles on the art of Dvāravatī before even visiting Siam (Dupont 1934 and 1935). Though he first worked on a limited corpus (in good part, the illustrations published by Cœdès), the reader notes a consistent change in perspective, going beyond what Cœdès, an epigraphist, and Claeys, an architect, could produce: the vocabulary becomes much more precise while what had been discussion of descriptive features becomes characterization, fostering greater descriptive power in developing the subject. Dupont went to Viet Nam as a member of EFEO in 1936; not long thereafter, Cœdès negotiated a general agreement between EFEO and the Siamese Fine Arts Department (BEFEO 1937, 684–685), thanks to which missions could be organized for Dupont in 1939 and 1940. He made two prospective visits to Siam, one in 1936, when he mostly visited the National Museum, Bangkok (Dupont 1936), and another the following year, when he surveyed the sites of Nakhon Pathom, Prachinburi and, briefly, Lopburi (Dupont 1937). He organized an excavation in Nakhon Pathom in 193914, during which he investigated an important monument, Wat Phra Men, and made a detailed survey of the archaeological sites in the town and environs (Dupont 1939). His second such expedition, in 1940, was devoted to completing the excavation at Wat Phra Men and the excavation at Chedi Chula Prathon (figure 10; Dupont’s P’ra Pat’on15); it concluded with the return of the team to French territory (Cambodia) on June 22nd (Dupont 1940, 503), the very day that France surrendered to the Germans16. Throughout, he worked in tandem The Thai texts on the question often say 1938–1939, or something equivalent (Fine Arts Department 2005, 42). Actually, the mission took place between January and May 1939, which corresponded in the Siamese calendar to January 2481 to May 2482, since, at that time, the year still changed on 1 April. 15 Although Dupont mentions the name Chula Pat’on by which the local people called the ruin (Dupont 1959, 65, note 2), he calls it by the name of the nearby temple. This is all the more confusing and it is all the more necessary to distinguish the two sites because an ancient chedi has recently been discovered under a modern one at Phra Prathon Chedi (Usa 2009a; Hennequin, forthcoming). 16 In fact, only Dupont’s assistants went back to Cambodia. As for Dupont, he was supposed to stay in Bangkok to work with Jean Burnay on a philological dictionary, but he left soon after for reasons which are not specified but which are easy to guess, considering the context (Hennequin 2008, 19). 14

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

18

Laurent Hennequin

with officials of the Fine Arts Department, in particular Luang Boribal Buribhand and Tri Amatyakul (1908–1992). Dupont became an expert in the art and archaeology of Dvāravatī, not to say of Nakhon Pathom, by default. His original and more ambitious plan had been to survey the archaeology of all Thailand, as the country came to be called in 1939 by the government of Luang Phibunsongkhram. The survey was to have started with remains from the oldest known period and proceed incrementally through more recent ones. The results of his first efforts, however, showed that a single visit would not be enough for even one monument at one site (Dupont 1939, 351), putting a brutal end to his illusions. Apart from his two preliminary reports written after each campaign, he penned two articles—one in 1948, which can be regarded as the draft version of the second one published in 1949. The publication dates are long after the fact, indicating that the reports probably were conceived rather belatedly, certainly owing again to circumstances. In 1953, he submitted a doctoral dissertation on the question, which was published in 1959, under a different title17, after his premature death in 1955. Dupont’s contributions to the evolving state of knowledge in the field are quite impossible to summarize in the space of the present article, especially since he made no great conceptual innovations and his conclusions were generally the same as Cœdès’s own on the main points. It is easier to give an assessment, albeit subjective, by saying that he left a legacy for future generations to consider, a task that remains unfinished. First of all, Dupont left detailed, not to say exhaustive, descriptions of two monuments which are quite important for the corpus of Dvāravatī architecture as a whole; one of them, Chedi Chula Prathon, had the best preserved decoration still in situ, as well as other pieces discovered scattered around (figure 11). Also, both that and the other, Wat Phra Men, had been constructed in three stages. A chronology could thus be devised, enabling a more informed and realistic investigation of Dvāravatī remains. Dupont suggested taking into account the other two known sites, Pong Tuk—as described by Cœdès—and Wat Yai in Nakhon Pathom (Dupont 1939, 362–364; and 1959, 99–103), but refrained as usual from venturing any absolute chronology in his final conclusions and made no comparisons except with much later monuments that are far from convincing (Boisselier 1968, 51; Piriya 1975, 84–85; Pichard 1999, 166). Dupont’s description can, however, be used as a basis for conceptualizing both typology and chronology in Dvāravatī architecture, as That particular version of the thesis was consulted. A crosscheck of the chapter concerning Wat Phra Men shows that the text was indeed changed in the publication, but not significantly. Recently, an English translation of the printed version was published (Dupont 2006). While some passages are accurately translated, most of the translation is problematical. The reader is thus forced to refer to the original text, rendering the enterprise rather futile. 17

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

19

regards the more recent discoveries of contemporary monuments—something that Dupont only partially did himself and which has been only partially done since18. Dupont’s descriptions have become all the more essential in Dvāravatī studies, because all the monuments he studied have since fallen into ruin and/ or been irremediably repaired, yet remain paramount in the establishment of a chronology. A general problem with Dvāravatī architecture is important to note here: the monuments need to be described immediately after being uncovered because they either deteriorate very quickly and become heaps of bricks, or they need to be restored and the visitor is left to wonder how much remains of the original state. Second among Dupont’s contributions of note here are his numerous discoveries of artifacts and decorative items, some still at their original location, in particular at Chedi Chula Prathon where a substantial quantity is involved (figure 12). Dupont chose to study a selection of them, not the most original findings but those already fairly well known, which he integrated into his general corpus; he preferred to study objects outside their context. Hence, with the twofold legacy of Dupont’s descriptions of monuments and collections of artifacts, emerge possibilities of relating the one with the other: the findings of his time and more recent discoveries, on the one hand, with the chronological stages of the monuments, on the other. Thirdly, Dupont undertook another task not so well known as his architectural work, although one that he was even better prepared for: a classification of Dvāravatī images, limited to the main positions of the Buddha and not taking into account other objects such as the Wheels of the Law. Despite the limited corpus, he dealt with nearly 200 published images, not counting those he discovered during his excavations, which he described very precisely and classified according to a typology and a relative chronology. That legacy is priceless, because some of the images have disappeared or become disfigured, although they have been much better preserved than the architectural remains. Also, with the examination of this corpus he identified three distinctive characteristics of Dvāravatī Buddhist sculpture more precisely than Cœdès could have done: (a) joined arches of the eyebrows, (b) appearance of sexless nudity under the robe and (c) tendency to symmetry which is complete in quite a few of the standing images. In particular, Dupont identified a rather large group of images of the Buddha with the hands in the same teaching position (vitarka-mudrā), a distinctive feature of Dvāravatī art which was noted by Cœdès only belatedly and not precisely distinguished among other positions, as remarked earlier in the present article. On this basis, Dupont could make comparisons with prototypes from the Indian subcontinent or other Southeast Asian sites and go beyond the basic association with Gupta art. For discussion on the topic, see Piriya 1977, 35–37 (a summary of the author’s ideas); and Hennequin 2006, 158–163 and 2008, 205–216. 18

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

20

Laurent Hennequin

This classification system of Dupont is usually ignored, with the occasional exception of Boisselier (1965a, 142) or more recently a Thai publication, where it is mostly used in assigning objects to a group with little or no description (Fine Arts Department 2009, 145). It can now be enriched with newly discovered material, providing an opportunity for putting it to the test. The system could be faulted for being too restrictive; but its scope could be enlarged as well to put the basic approach to the test. It could be faulted for using too simplistic criteria, such as whether the Buddha is seated or standing, which might not be relevant in determining the style or period and which could devolve into a simplistic taxonomy; but it provides a good basis for organizing abundant material and determining further relevant criteria. The obstacles in this case might simply be that the texts are in French and that no one has seemed willing to experiment with the tools Dupont has provided. Fourthly, as alluded to earlier, Dupont’s excavations enriched museum collections with many discoveries, of which he kept a detailed account (figure 13). He also examined the collection of Phra Pathom Chedi Museum, among others, which was at that time installed in the circular gallery of the temple, and left numerous photographs, many of which remain unpublished19. All that provides substantial material for the study of some 70 years of Thai museology—even more if the legacy of Dupont’s French and other predecessors is taken into account. It is possible to determine, for example, where the objects of the temple museum have been sent, between the National Museum of Bangkok and Phra Pathom Chedi National Museum; whether they have been restored and how; where the various pieces discovered during the excavations were dispatched; how they were considered and whether they generated any further literature. Beyond the simple history of individual pieces, the whole provides material for the history of the practice and policy of heritage conservation in Nakhon Pathom and Thailand over a rather long span of time. Fifthly, Dupont (1954) studied Mon literature from Burma, probably with the objective of establishing a historical link with Dvāravatī architecture and explaining why archaeological remains are so rare while literature so abundant there; whereas the situation is the opposite in Thailand. Apart from the intrinsic value of such a study, the conclusion would implicitly be negative: the examination of literature of one place could not be related to the archaeology of the other. Nonetheless, the idea should not be totally abandoned; a link could be established between the subject matter and compositions in Dvāravatī art and later Mon literature within a similar Buddhist culture.

An important collection of unpublished photographs is kept at the picture library of EFEO in Paris. 19

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

21

IV. Confirmation Not long before Dupont’s sudden death, Cœdès again became involved in Dvāravatī studies with the reading of a few inscriptions. Like dei ex machina, three documents were discovered in the 1950s that Cœdès had the honour of interpreting. By then he had retired and was working in a small Asian museum in Paris, Musée d’Ennery, and had been silent in this field of expertise for a while. He had apparently lost touch with his circle of Thai counterparts, but was again contacted, perhaps by the Fine Arts Department. The first document was a reproduction of an ancient inscription found at Wat Pho Rang in Nakhon Pathom, not far from Wat Phra Men (figure 14). In content it was rather uninformative, being the list of, probably, donations to a monastery; its main interest was that it was written in Mon with very ancient characters datable to the end of the 6th century, the oldest known in that language. Thus the population of the Chao Phraya Valley was confirmed to have used Mon, at least as an inscriptional language, as might have been presumed, considering what had been found farther north, but never proven (Cœdès 1952). The second inscription was written on a Wheel of the Law, again found in Nakhon Pathom, with verses in Pāli. The content is similarly uninformative, consisting of extracts from a text on the teaching of the doctrine so general that no precise source could be identified; but it confirmed the religious symbolism of the Wheel of the Law—although doubt regarding its validity had been hardly credible. In his analysis, Cœdès (1956) reminds the reader that the sect of Buddhism that originated the text could not be the same as that which modern Thais adhere to, as the latter is an offshoot of a much more recently reformed sect from Sri Lanka, contrary to what some might think, presumably due to confusion in vocabulary. The third one was an inscribed medallion found, once more, in Nakhon Pathom, in 1943, which was incompletely read in the 1960s by Ajahn Maha Saeng (Boeles 1964). A photographic reproduction was sent to Cœdès (Boisselier 1978, 5)20. The inscription read, according to Cœdès: “The pious act of the King of Dvāravatī” in Sanskrit characters dated to the 8th century, or possibly the end of the 7th (1963, 290–291), providing formal confirmation that there had indeed been an entity called “Dvāravatī” in the area at the given period. Cœdès’s chief ideas were confirmed in popular opinion by the discoveries and his readings of them. A thorough review of the literature before those revelations would show, nonetheless, that the ideas propagated by both Cœdès and Prince Damrong had already generally been accepted. The inscription was not read in 1928, as is averred in some Thai texts (Fine Arts Department 1999a, 18; Phatharaphong 2002, 3). 20

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

22

Laurent Hennequin

Following these discoveries, Cœdès wrote two articles for a general readership in which he presented the main features of Dvāravatī civilization (1964b) and of the Mon, who had gone forgotten not so many years before, and on the history of their rediscovery (1966). In the same vein of extending public knowledge on the subject, Cœdès helped organize an exhibition on Thai art held at Musée Cernuschi in Paris in 1964. A large section was devoted to Dvāravatī art, with specimens from the site of Khu Bua recently excavated by the Thai Fine Arts Department (figure 15; Cœdès and Boisselier 1964c). The event contributed to further popularization of the Dvāravatī concept and art style among the French public; but, more importantly, cited among the contributors to the catalogue, apart from Cœdès, were the names of Prince Subhadradis Diskul, Prince Damrong’s son, and Jean Boisselier, the occasion coming at the cusp of a new wave of co-operation. V. Synthesis Like the explorers of the first generation, Jean Boisselier (1912–1996), originally a specialist in Khmer art, first came to Thailand to survey the Khmer monuments in the eastern part of the country in 1955 (1965a, 125). Thereafter, by invitation of the Fine Arts Department and with grants from the French National Research Centre (CNRS), he made regular visits: from July to October 1964 (Boisselier 1965a; 1965b), July to November 1965 (Boisselier 1969), July to November 1966 (Boisselier 1972), 1968 (Boisselier 1970), yet again in 1970 (Boisselier 1978, 14) and at least another in 1989 (Boisselier 1993a, 15). Those who knew him said that he made other visits that were not reported, as he sometimes came without any institutional mission. He was regularly accompanied during his travels by Prince Subhadradis, who was one of the authorities in Thai art and archaeology at the time, continuing his father Prince Damrong’s work (figure 16). Boisselier published numerous reports and articles after his missions. Other than Nakhon Pathom, Boisselier visited and reported on Khu Bua in Ratchaburi province, U-Thong in Suphanburi and Sri Thep in Petchabun, where the Fine Arts Department and the Faculty of Archaeology of Silpakorn University were already working. At first his publications embraced all periods of Thai art, but by the end he focused nearly exclusively on Dvāravatī art. His published output was actually far less than what he had planned to write (Boisselier 1965a, 155–157). As a general rule he was late in submitting his preliminary reports; he did not seem to produce them in tandem with his discoveries and conclusions. Hence, the transcriptions of the conferences that he gave, his teachings and the informal diffusion of his views are important components of his legacy. As with Dupont, it is quite difficult to sum up the content of Boisselier’s published legacy, for the same reason that so many of his observations came from his field visits and were disseminated as described above. The value of his work, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

23

apart from new information on the extent of Dvāravatī civilization, lay in its nature of his ideas that stimulated new thinking. Thanks mostly to his visits at U-Thong, Boisselier discovered evidence, in the form of beads, seals and sculptural fragments, of the existence of a civilization prior to Dvāravatī culture properly speaking that linked pre- with proto-history. Dvāravatī civilization could thus be understood not simplistically as the result of a sudden process of Indianization, as had generally been thought or implied by Boisselier’s predecessors; but, on the contrary, as the result of a gradual, local evolution during which Indian and other elements were borrowed. Apart from the Indian world, the finds also showed influence from the Mediterranean world and some affinity with Funan culture in the Mekong Delta, which had previously been thought to be confined to the latter. In any case, the evidence showed that the preDvāravatī peoples of the area and afterwards had been part of important trading networks, and also possibly confirmed Pelliot’s earlier hypothesis (1904, 230–231) of cultural continuity between the deltas of the Mekong and the Chao Phraya. If the evidence showed trade with the rest of the world, it also showed proof of original production, such as the figurines of a naked boy with a monkey, to cite one example (figure 17; Boisselier 1965a; 1965b, 141–153; 1968, 36–41). Regarding religion, since Fournereau’s time Hinduism and not just Buddhism had been acknowledged to exist in Dvāravatī territory, Nonetheless the experts had reported mostly on Buddhism, implicitly its Hīnayāna form in practice. The exception was Dupont, who occasionally wondered if there could have been some Mahāyāna leanings, noting that the latter sect was not represented in the corpus he could study, being mostly from Nakhon Pathom (Dupont 1939, 360). Boisselier himself could detect in the various sites that he visited the presence of Hinduism and two branches of Buddhism, although without traces of Tantric Buddhism. Objects reflecting the Hīnayāna sect appeared to be far more abundant and original, the rest “showing foreign influences much more perceptible than the commissions inspired by Theravāda which constitute the dominant and stable element of the production” (Boisselier 1968, 36). Concerning territorial extent, Boisselier’s work led him to conclude that Dvāravatī country extended from Lamphun in the north to Chaya in the south, and between Tak to the west and Battambang, now in Cambodia, to the east (Boisselier 1972, 53). Boisselier added a new chapter to the field of Dvāravatī studies that had earlier been alluded to by Lunet de Lajonquière: urbanism. The very existence of cities attested to an advanced state of organization; moreover, their lineaments revealed that no foreign influence was likely to have been at work there. Contrary to what was known in the Khmer world, Dvāravatī town plans were irregular, often consisting in a moat reinforced by one or two embankments, responding to practical exigencies, perhaps reflecting existing local tradition (figure 21; Boisselier 1968, 41–47). Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

24

Laurent Hennequin

Boisselier’s main interest in Dvāravatī architecture, unlike that of his predecessors, was to investigate the building materials and techniques. Apart from occasional use of laterite, the preferred material of Dvāravatī monuments was a specific type of brick of large dimensions, used rather consistently over time, with a recognizable colour and texture showing that it had been baked at a low temperature and with a high amount of rice husk. The brick was a distinctive feature of Dvāravatī architecture, in contrast with the equivalent in neighbouring civilizations and in those that followed in the same territory; demonstrating again that if the prototypes had originated outside the country, they were adapted with different physical specifications and certainly followed an original, local tradition. By defining the standard of the brick construction material, Boisselier initiated a method that is still used by many field archaeologists, consisting in examining the material in situ and determining whether it is a Dvāravatī product—even from recycled brick material, as very often researchers have had to make do with pieces scattered on the ground or incorporated into newer monuments. Dvāravatī builders used little or no binding material or an equivalent; when they did use an interfacing material between bricks, they simply piled on layers of various materials such as sand that, for example, could fill in the interstices. As a result, their structures were unstable and limited to massive buildings such as stūpa, excluding of course their wooden buildings. The technology also necessitated the use of stucco, which apart from being suitable for moulding decoration, protected the brick structure that it covered. Succeeding generations living in formerly Dvāravatī territory professed the same religion and also built stūpa, but did not use the same material and techniques. While Dvāravatī construction techniques might have been discontinued or forgotten, quite a few features of Dvāravatī iconography of Buddha images, for example, have been transmitted to the present day (Boisselier 1968, 47–49). Boisselier opened yet another chapter on a question that had so far been only alluded to: parietal art. With the discovery and investigation of several caves scattered in the country, two new and hitherto unknown types of iconography were identified. Two caves in Ratchaburi province, Tham Cham and Tham Fa Tho, contained a monumental reclining Buddha carved in the live rock in low relief (figure 18; Boisselier 1972, 41; 1993a, 15). Another in Saraburi province, Tham Phra Pothisat, contained an engraved scene that represented the Buddha preaching to various deities, in particular—in Boisselier’s view—Śiva and Visnu (Boisselier 1993a, 15; 1993b). The very use of caves by Dvāravatī people as Buddhist shrines seems to have come from a tradition well established in India; the difference being that in India the caves were generally man-made—not natural, as was always the case on Thai soil. Whatever the origin of the tradition, it was discontinued after Dvāravatī times; strangely enough, the existing caves were quite often, in the Ratchaburi region at least, restored during the Ayuthaya period and later (Boisselier 1972, 40–41; 1993a, 14–15). Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

25

Before Boisselier’s time, the Dvāravatī period had been considered a monolithic block with varying dates for the end21. Boisselier proposed a more refined chronology. For the Dvāravatī period properly defined, he identified first a subperiod from the end of the 6th to the 7th century, when post-Gupta traditions were adopted. His second subperiod runs through the 7th and 8th centuries, when post-Gupta influences were assimilated and the essential characteristics of Dvāravatī technique and iconography were in place. His third subperiod, from the end of the 8th through the 9th century, marks a renewal of the style with influences from other places (Indonesia, Pāla and southern India) that are superimposed on the original base. The last subperiod, from the 11th to 12th century, reflects stylistic decline, incorporating Khmer influences, as a result of Khmer expansion in the Chao Phraya Valley (Boisselier 1968, 36). Not long afterward, Boisselier refined his chronology with regard to a specific monument, Chedi Chula Prathon, where decorated panels had just been found. The stūpa had been excavated some 30 years before by Pierre Dupont with a team from the Fine Arts Department, but they had seen just a few panels (Dupont 1940), the rest being hidden by a layer of plain stucco. In 1968, after an accident uncovered some others, the Fine Arts Department decided to re-excavate the monument and invited Boisselier to take part in the project. Following this investigation, he gave a conference (Piriya 1975, 34), a record of which was published in this journal (Boisselier 1970). This text does not follow the usual academic conventions, containing neither bibliography nor iconographical references, making it sometimes difficult to understand; thereafter, the author would frequently rely on the ideas contained therein, so it evidently expressed his main opinions22. The discovery revealed, in Boisselier’s view, three successive stages superposed on each other, which were organized in the following sequence: (a) a first stage with terracotta figurines of Hīnayāna inspiration (Boisselier actually says Theravāda, following the Thai custom) dating from the 7th to mid-8th century; (b) a second stage with stucco decoration of Mahāyāna inspiration with influences from Śrīvijaya, dated to the end of the 8th or 9th century (figure 19); and (c) a third stage, inspired once more by Hīnayāna Buddhism, showing a decline with plainer decoration estimated to the 10th or perhaps the end of the 9th century, but not showing Khmer influence (1970, 64). On the basis of the Northern Chronicles mentioned above, Cœdès hypothesized for a while that the Khmer army, under the command of Suryavarman I, had conquered the lower Chao Phraya valley for a short period during the first half of the 11th century, putting an end to the Dvāravatī civilization (Cœdès 1925b, 24 and 30). He later expressed doubts about this hypothesis (Cœdès 1964a, 247–248 and 251–252). The assertion is nevertheless often repeated (Dupont 1948, 238) and that seems to be the case in Boisselier’s chronology. 22 This is not case with the short-lived hypothesis, expressed and later abandoned (Boisselier 1965c, 1965d, 1965e), that U-Thong may have been an important centre of a “Funan kingdom”, if not its capital for a while, as well as of the polity of Dvāravatī. 21

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

26

Laurent Hennequin

Criticism of Boisselier’s chronologies has reverberated among scholars and they have not been universally adopted23; in his last work on the question, available only in an Italian translation, Boisselier was not so assertive as before. He submits an idea he had never before mentioned: that the decorative material resembles pre-Angkorian art, which shifts the frame of reference to the second half of the 7th century, presumably for the whole scheme. Concerning the decorated panels, he renounces his earlier chronological order of the various styles, noting that they would probably differ according to local traditions (Boisselier 1986, 82–83). Concluding the chronological issues, in this last text, Boisselier identified three periods in the Dvāravatī epoch as a whole: the first, dating to the 7th and beginning of the 8th century, documented by the Chinese travellers; the second with influences from Śrīvijaya in the second half of the 8th century and with no reference to any shift in religious orientation; and a later period, with Khmer influences following their political domination at the end of the 12th century or beginning of the 13th that brought about the decline of Dvāravatī civilization (Boisselier 1986, 79). Regarding issues of urbanism, architecture and chronology, Boisselier recorded his views in a synthesis published in Thailand (Boisselier 1968), but not in France, and in a few additional documents (Boisselier 1969, 1970, 1972). The 1968 article ended with the equivalent of “to be continued”; but no continuation was forthcoming. The art form omitted from this article is sculpture; for that, his monograph on Thai sculpture provides a summary of his views that are otherwise scattered across his publication legacy. As with architecture, Boisselier’s approach to sculpture consists in first considering the material used and the constraints that it entailed, as well as the techniques. Concerning stone sculpture in the round, he notes the technique of tenons and mortises, among Buddha statues or Wheels of the Law with their pillar, that are akin to carpentry; thus implying again an antecedent tradition of wooden sculpture that enhanced the original character of Dvāravatī achievements. On the same order, quite a few of the standing Buddhas typical of the genre are made of a kind of limestone24, which was suitable for polishing but easily chipped. As a result, For a criticism of the chronology of Chedi Chula Pathon, see Piriya (1975, 35–37). For the general chronology, Prince Subhadradis identifies only three periods and says that Boisselier exaggerates the influence of Śrīvijaya (Subhadradis 1978, 12). Another chronology, slightly different, was recently proposed (Sakchai 2552, 97). The present author has noted that Boisselier leaves an important time gap before the last period and that there are no convincing arguments of a period of Khmer influence before the supposed Khmer occupation (Hennequin 2008b, 148). 24 For a while some confusion existed regarding the material, whether it was limestone or schist; Boisselier sometimes speaks of schistous limestone (Boisselier 1987, 41 and 56). A scientific analysis performed on the occasion of the Dvāravatī exhibition at Musée Guimet in 2009 showed that it is limestone (Pierre Baptiste, personal communication). However, the result came too late to be taken into account in the catalogue and the captions of the exhibited objects. 23

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

27

the sculptors made compact, rigid images, departing from the animated statues of contemporary Indian models, thereby creating a new aesthetic that was largely followed by subsequent sculptors. The Buddha’s hands, protruding, constituted a problem, which sculptors solved by designing them with mortises, a technique reminiscent of wood sculpture. As for the monumental stone Buddhas seated with legs pendant, limestone was an unsuitable medium, so sculptors used quartzite25, which presented other problems but called for the same solution of blocks assembled with mortises (Boisselier 1974, 41, 56–58). Regarding other media, bronze was comparatively rare. Boisselier notes too that terracotta was not so abundant as stucco and was generally of finer quality. He believed that terracotta had been used during more ancient times and was later abandoned because of the difficulties it presented in producing decorative objects. Apart from technical issues, the range of iconography in terracotta and stucco was not limited to sacred images, thus offering insights into the daily lives of the inhabitants of the Dvāravatī world, their animals, the foreigners they had contact with and their aesthetic sensibilities (Boisselier 1974, 85-88). The present author, if asked to pinpoint his favourite ideas from Boisselier’s study on sculpture—akin to the question “What would you take with you if you were to go live on a desert island?”—would select two. The first is the Pāla influence on the Dvāravatī style. Dupont regularly stated that there were Gupta or post-Gupta as well as Pāla influences, occasionally along with others (for example, Dupont 1937, 688); but paradoxically, he never mentions a specific feature that could be attributed to the Pāla school. Boisselier considers that artistic production that follows Gupta or post-Gupta stylistic models was comparatively rare and did not constitute a Dvāravatī tradition. Nonetheless, the main features of the standing Buddha that are typical of Dvāravatī sculpture are also found in the Pāla school. Yet, since it is impossible to consider Dvāravatī sculpture a continuation of the Pāla tradition both chronologically and aesthetically, Boisselier supposes a transitory school for which there is little evidence. He also considers that the appearance of true Dvāravatī images with their essential characteristics dates to a period later than that generally thought: the 7th century instead of the 6th or even 5th century (Boisselier 1974, 76). He concludes that one possible source of inspiration would lie in the northeast of India (Bengal) and not predominantly southern India or Ceylon, as was generally held (Boisselier 1986, 83).

Apparently, the material was first identified as quartzite by Reginald Le May (Le May 1938 [2004, 26]), and re-examined, or confirmed, by Dupont the following year (Dupont 1939, 354). It is difficult to judge as the statues are largely covered by a patina. It is possible that they are made of limestone too, like the specimen preserved in Wat Na Phra Men in Ayuthaya, indicated by Boisselier (Boisselier 1974, 58). The question should be reconsidered after new scientific examination. 25

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

28

Laurent Hennequin

The second is the means of installing the Wheels of the Law. Dupont had already thought of associating such Wheels with the octagonal pillars that had also been discovered; however, as both pieces were equipped with a tenon, he had to discard the idea (Dupont 1939, 362). Boisselier discovered a three-piece columnar unit at U-Thong, where it is currently preserved in the museum, properly set up although it had fallen down: consisting of a pillar, an abacus and a Wheel that fit together exactly.26 This type of assembly reflects a tradition of carpentry as well as the carving of wheels in stone. Additionally, Boisselier observed that the upper table of some of the abacuses had small mortises at the corners that had been intended for models of deer, which would have been equipped with a small tenon (figure 20). He also notes similarities of the U-Thong unit with a Wheel found in southern India that is possibly contemporary27; that remark was generally ignored (Boisselier 1974, 89–90, 206). To quote Boisselier: Dvāravatī sculpture is dominated by a particular type of Buddha image; lacking any direct influence of Indian models, it may be regarded as a truly original creation of the workshops of the Menam [Chao Phraya] Plain—the first such original form of Buddhist art to appear in the whole of Southeast Asia. This image enjoyed great success and its influence extended well beyond the presumed limits of the Dvāravatī realm. Its iconography gained such wide and lasting acceptance that it remained unaltered either by political vicissitudes or by the subsequent evolution of art. That an iconography already possessing something of a national character should make its appearance by about the seventh century, while political unity was not achieved until many centuries later, is a noteworthy historical fact. Indeed, in any discussion of Buddhist art, the school of Dvāravatī may stand alongside the great Buddhist artistic traditions of India, so enduring were its innovations and so pervasive its influence on most of the art of Southeast Asia (Boisselier [in English translation] 1975, 73). Boisselier comments on the “reconstruction” of Phra Pathom Chedi by King Rama IV (Boisselier 1978), examining the extant chronicles regarding the reconstruction process that yield insight into the state of the area more than a century ago, before it had become built up. He pays special attention to the methodical The report of the 1964 mission shows that Boisselier had made the link between the pieces at an early time, although he does not say how he imagined they were assembled (Boisselier 1965, 143). The publication of the discovery was thus rather belated. 27 See Zéphir 2009, 77 for an illustration. 26

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

29

approach of the King, whom he regarded as the founder of Thai archaeology. He also considers what had been discovered on the site since the time of Rama IV, appraising the first findings in the light of a much better documented context one century or so later. Probably the most important new finding was the discovery of the town limits, which revealed that the ancient city was bigger than all its known counterparts; e. g., Khu Bua or U-Thong. The plan also revealed that the town was centred not around Phra Pathom Chedi, as might have been supposed, but on Phra Prathon Chedi, at a time when no one suspected that its modern chedi hid an ancient one (figure 21). The chronicles of the 1850s also reported that a site outside the ancient town limits, Sanam Chan, was densely built over with ancient monuments, now totally gone, where not long before Dupont’s visits Dvāravatī remnants had been found, that were said to have included a royal palace. Noting the location of the town of Nakhon Pathom at a nexus of communication routes, the size of the site, its sophisticated level of urbanization, the length of occupation unusual in the historical context and, last but not least, its selection by the heir to the Siamese throne, led Boisselier to conclude that Nakhon Pathom had been prominent among Dvāravatī sites. He refrains from asking if the city could have been the capital of a kingdom, but presents some evidence that reflects a high level of political and social organization. A few years later he is more assertive, saying that Nakhon Pathom was likely to have been the capital of a structured political entity (Boisselier 1986, 79). *

*

*

In concluding the present review of French participation in Dvāravatī archaeology, the rediscovery of Dvāravatī can be said to have evolved as the outcome of collaboration between the French and the Siamese. Detailed examination has revealed a remarkable, and rather unusual, continuity. If King Rama IV is considered the initiator of Dvāravatī studies, as Boisselier says must be the case, he transmitted the charge of the enterprise to his own son, Prince Damrong, who in turn transmitted it to his son, Prince Subhadradis. On the French side, Aymonier initiated a comparable enterprise from Cambodia and the two movements quickly converged at the time of Lunet de Lajonquière, most probably under the initiative of Prince Damrong, or at least under his supervision. In the French case the charge was transmitted by Prince Damrong to George Cœdès, who not only made important discoveries concerning the subject, but also supervised the research in one way or another on the French side for more than a quarter of a century by contributing first to Claeys’s and then Dupont’s missions. He probably also played a part in the apparent first collaboration between Prince Subhadradis and Jean Boisselier who jointly continued the enterprise for many years. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

30

Laurent Hennequin

The saga of collaborative investigations appears less a series of chance discoveries than a methodical enterprise, up to the point that the discoveries could be anticipated, as was the case with the Mon-speaking population in the Chao Phraya Valley, or the name Dvāravatī itself. Within this collaboration existed a de-facto division of labour: the Thai took charge of investigating their own archaeological patrimony and treating it rather intuitively, while the French took charge of interpreting the findings and reporting on progress in their writings, always in total independence. Most of the Frenchmen noted in the present article started their career in Cambodia. At first they brought to Siam simply their technical expertise and experience in Cambodia with the recognition that Dvāravatī was not an offspring of Khmer civilization and that a totally new field of study must be generated. Consequently, they first tended to look nearly exclusively westward, considering mostly the Indian influences and failing to note, at the beginning at least, that comparisons with the Southeast Asian sphere could be more instructive. There was indeed a change when the French started using their expertise in their colonial or formerly colonial domain. The perception of an Indian form of influence changed to one of Southeast Asian peoples within their own cultural dynamic. Regarding the western borders of Dvāravatī territory, few affinities with the Burmese area have been identified so far, fewer than might be expected to obtain. The concluding, and unanswerable, question is, how would the rediscovery process have fared, had not so many French collaborators appeared on the scene? The theoretical part of the enterprise was, at the least, expressed by and, at the most, propagated by French authors. The core concepts were defined in the 1920s by Cœdès, are still current and are still sometimes criticized. They inescapably suffer from some Western or even Gallic intellectual prejudices or biases, such as the ascription of Indianization, or the hypothetical centralized state that is not elaborated in these pages. If some prejudices may now be blatantly apparent with distance in time, some others certainly linger which cannot yet be detected, since they are part of our current frame of thought. With the exception of some of Boisselier’s later texts, this discussion stops with the literature produced by the end of the 1970s. Since that time, French research on the subject has continued, albeit without the earlier level of co-operation at the top between French and Thai participants. In general, Dvāravatī studies have become the subject of university dissertations and project reports, rather than news-breaking conferences followed by a paper destined for history. Additionally, the Thai have become the undisputed leaders in the field, a development that no one would regret. Beyond the present focus of concern, there is the teaching role of the French in Thai universities and their contribution in transmitting their expertise to their local counterparts, as well as the value of their research outcomes. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

31

Last, if French documents have (a) shed light in the genesis of a new field of study, now well established and flourishing, they have also (b) preserved testimony concerning quite a few archaeological remains that have disappeared or become irremediably dilapidated; and (c) fostered the gestation of a new science and the preservation in the Thai patrimony. As such, they provide source material for further investigations that have yet to begin. Abbreviations BEFEO: Bulletin de l’École française d’Extrême-Orient EFEO: École française d’Extrême-Orient JSS: Journal of the Siam Society Bibliography Aymonier, Étienne, 1900. Le Cambodge. t.I : Le royaume actuel. Paris. 478 p. Aymonier, Étienne, 1901. Le Cambodge. t.II : Les provinces siamoises. Paris. 481 p. Baffie, Jean, 1999. “La vie et l’œuvre de George Cœdès. ” George Cœdès aujourd’hui. Bangkok. [21] p. Barth, Auguste, 1908. “[Introduction to] Le Siam ancien, archéologie, épigraphie, géographie.” Ernest Leroux, Paris. t.II. BEFEO, 1904. “Chronique de l’année 1904.” IV. Hanoi. BEFEO, 1907. “Chronique de l’année 1907.” VII. Hanoi. BEFEO, 1908. “Chronique de l’année 1908.” VIII. Hanoi. BEFEO, 1930. “Chronique de l’année 1929.” XXIX. Hanoi. BEFEO, 1936. “Chronique de l’année 1936.” XXXVI. Hanoi. BEFEO, 1937. “Chronique de l’année 1937.” XXXVII. Hanoi. Boeles, J. J., 1964. “The King of Sri Dvāravatī and His Regalia.” JSS. 52, 1, April. p. 99–114. Boisselier, Jean, 1965a. “Récentes recherches archéologiques en Thaïlande. Rapport préliminaire de mission. (25 juillet–28 novembre 1964).” Arts asiatiques. XII. p. 125–174 + 40 ill. [See also “Rapport de mission (25 juillet–28 novembre 1964).” Silpakorn. 9, 2, July 2508. p. 35–60. The two texts are not completely identical, the one published in France being the more accurate.] Boisselier, Jean, 1965b. “Quelques résultats d’une récente mission archéologique en Thaïlande.” Comptes rendus de l’Académie des inscriptions et belles lettres. p. 54–61. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

32

Laurent Hennequin

Boisselier, Jean, 1965c. “U-Thong en Thaïlande.” Archeologia. 7, Novembre– décembre. p. 55–61. Boisselier, Jean, 1965d. “Nouvelles données sur l’histoire ancienne de la Thaïlande.” Alliance française. Boisselier, Jean, 1965e. “U-Thong et son importance pour l’histoire de la Thaïlande.” Silpakorn. 9, 1, January 2508. p. 27–30. Boisselier, Jean, 1968. “L’art de Dvāravatī.” Silpakorn. 11, 6, Mars. p. 34–56. Boisselier, Jean, 1969. “Recherches archéologiques en Thaïlande. II. Rapport sommaire de la mission 1965 (26 juillet–28 novembre).” Arts asiatiques. XX. p. 47–98 + photos. Boisselier, Jean, 1970. “Récentes recherches à Nakhon Pathom.” JSS. 58, 2. p. 55–66 + 14 photos. Boisselier, Jean, 1972. “Travaux de la mission archéologique française en Thaïlande (Juillet–novembre 1966).” Arts asiatiques. XXV. p. 27–90 + photos. Boisselier, Jean, and Beurdeley, Jean-Michel, 1974. La sculpture en Thaïlande. Bibliothèque des arts–Office du livre, Paris–Fribourg. 269 p.; 2nd edition 1987; The Heritage of Thai Sculpture. Emmons, James, tr. Weatherhill, New York, 1975. 269 p. [The second edition is merely a reprint of the first.] Boisselier, Jean, 1978. La reconstruction de Phra Pathom Chedi: Quelques précisions sur le site de Nakhon Pathom. Fondation de France, Paris. 56 p.; Aséanie. no6, Décembre 2000. p. 151–189. Boisselier, Jean, 1986. Il Sud-Est asiatico. Piovano, Irma, tr. Utet, Torino. Boisselier, Jean, 1993a. “Quelques enseignements des sculptures rupestres de la période de Dvaravati.” Récentes recherches en archéologie en Thaïlande, deuxième symposium franco–thaï, 9–11 décembre 1991). Université Silpakorn, Bangkok, p. 12–23. Boisselier, Jean, 1993b. “Propos sur Tham Phra Photisat et les cavernes bouddhiques de Thaïlande.” Arts Asiatiques. XLVIII, p. 127–135. Borrell, Brigitte, 2008. “The Early Byzantine Lamp from Pong Tuk.” JSS 96. p. 1–26 Brown, Robert L., and MacDonnell, Anna M., 1989. “The Pong Tuk Lamp: A Reconsideration.” JSS 77, 2. p. 8–17. Chavannes, E., 1894. Mémoire sur les religieux éminents qui allèrent chercher la Loi dans les pays d’Occident. Claeys, Jean–Yves, 1931. “L’archéologie au Siam.” BEFEO. XXXI. p. 361–448. Cœdès, George, 1912. “Compte rendu de Lunet de Lajonquière, 1912.” BEFEO. XII, 9. p. 29. Cœdès, George, 1925a. “Tablettes votives bouddhiques de Siam.” Études asiatiques. Publications de l’EFEO, XX. Paris. p. 145–167 + ill. Cœdès, George, 1925b. “Documents pour l’histoire politique et religieuse du Laos occidental.” BEFEO. XXV, Hanoi. p. 1–201. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

33

Cœdès, George, 1926a. “Siamese Votive Tablets.” Graham, W. A., tr. JSS. XVI, 1; The Siam Society Fiftieth Anniversary. Vol. 1. Bangkok, 1954. p. 150–187. Cœdès, George, 1926b. Siamese Votive Tablets. 15 p. (Tamnan Phra Phim. ยอร์ช เซเดส, ตำนานพระพิมพ์. 15 หน้า + รูปประกอบ. [Version in Thai].) Cœdès, George, 1928a. Les collections archéologiques du Musée national de Bangkok. Ars asiatica, G. Van Oest, Bruxelles–Paris. 116 p.; ยอร์ช เซแดส์ส, โบราณ วัตถุในพิพิธภัณฑสถาน สำหรับพระนคร. พระนคร, 1928. 40 หน้า + ภาพประกอบ Cœdès, George, 1928b. “The Excavations of P’ongtük and Their Importance for the Ancient History of Siam.” JSS. XXI, 3, Bangkok. p. 195–209; The Siam Society Fiftieth Anniversary. Vol. 1. Bangkok, 1954. p. 205–238. Cœdès, George, 1929. Recueil des inscriptions du Siam – 2. Inscriptions de Dvāravatī, Çrīvijaya et de LÄvo. Institut royal, Bangkok. Cœdès, George, 1937. “Mission de George Cœdès au Siam.” BEFEO. XXXVII, 2. p. 684–686. Cœdès, George, 1939. “Le May, Reginald. A Concise History of Buddhist Art in Siam, Cambridge University Press, 1938” [Review of]. JSS. XXXI, 2. p. 192–201. Cœdès, George, 1951. “Études indochinoises.” Bulletin de la Société des Études indochinoises. 26, 4. p. 437–462. Cœdès, George, 1952. “À propos de deux fragments d’inscription récemment découverts à P’ra Pathom (Thaïlande).” Comptes rendus de l’Académie des inscriptions et belles-lettres. p. 27–31. Cœdès, George, 1956. “Une roue de la loi avec inscription en pāli provenant du site de P’ra Pathom.” Artibus Asiae. 19, 2–3. p. 221–226  Cœdès, George, 1959. “Pierre Dupont.” BEFEO. XLIX. p. 637–642. Cœdès, George, 1961. Recueil des inscriptions du Siam – 2. Inscriptions de Dvāravatī, Çrīvijaya et de LÄvo. 2e édition, revue et corrigée, Département des beauxarts. ประชุมศิลาจารึก ภาคที่ ๒ จารึก ทวารวดี ศรีวช ิ ยั ละโว้. ตีพมิ พ์ ครัง้ ที่ ๒ (แก้ไขใหม่.) หม่อมเจ้า สุภัทรดิศ ดิศกุล และ ฉ่ำ ทองคำวรร, แปล. กรมศิลปากร, กรุงเทพฯ 2504. [Second edition, with introduction and chapter on iconography significantly modified.] Cœdès, George, 1963. “Découverte numismatique au Siam intéressant le royaume de Dvāravatī.” Comptes rendus de l’Académie des inscriptions et des belleslettres. p. 285–291. Cœdès, George, 1964a. Les États hindouisés d’Indochine et d’Indonésie. De Boccard, Paris. XI–466 p. Cœdès, George, 1964b. “A la recherche du royaume de Dvāravatī.” Archaeologia. no1, Novembre–décembre. p. 58–63. Cœdès, George, and Boisselier, Jean, 1964c. Trésors d’art de Thaïlande. Musée Cernuschi–Les presses artistiques, Paris. 72 p. + 63 ill.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

34

Laurent Hennequin

Cœdès, George, 1966. “Les Mōns de Dvāravatī.” Essays Offered to G. H. Luce by His Colleagues and Friends in Honour of His 75th Birthday. Shin Ba, Boisselier, Jean, and Griswold, Alexander B., eds. Vol. 1: Papers on Asian History, Religion, Languages, Literature, Music, Folklore and Anthropology. Artibus Asiae, Ascona. p. 112–116. Damrong Rajanubhab, Prince, 1919. “Siamese History Prior to the Founding of Ayuddyā.” JSS, XIII, 2. Damrong Rajanubhab, Prince, 1928. “[Introduction to] Cœdès, George: The Archaeological Collections of the Bangkok National Museum.” สมเด็จพระเจ้า

บรมวงศ์เธอกรมพระดำรงราชานุภาพ. [คำนำ] ยอร์ช เซแดส์ส, โบราณวัตถุในพิพธิ ภัณฑ สถานสำหรับพระนคร. พระนคร, 1928]

Damrong Rajanubhab, Prince, 1969. “Stories about My Third Visit to Java.” Collection of Chronicles. Vol. 41, Section 47, p. 95–227. (“Lao Ruang Paj Chawa Khrang thi Sam.” Prachum Phongsawadan. Lem Sisip-et Phak Sisipchet.

สมเด็จพระเจ้าบรมวงศ์เธอกรมพระดำรงราชานุภาพ, 2512. “เล่าเรื่องไปชวาครั้งที่ ๓” ประชุมพงศาวดาร เล่ม 41 ภาค 47 หน้า 95–227.) [The text is dated 1934.]

Dupont, Pierre, 1934. “Art siamois, les écoles.” Musée Guimet. Catalogue des collections indochinoises. Dupont, Pierre, éd. Musées nationaux, Paris, MDCCCCXXXIV. p. 45–58. Dupont, Pierre, 1935. “Art de Dvaravati et art khmer. Le Buddha debout à l’époque du Bayon.” Revue des arts asiatiques. IX, 2. p. 65–75. Dupont, Pierre, 1936. “Siam. P. Dupont. Rapport sur ses études iconographiques.” BEFEO. XXXVI, 2. p. 646–647. Dupont, Pierre, 1937. “Mission au Siam (23 juillet–22 août 1937). Recherches archéologiques à Nak’ôn Pathom et à Kok Wat.” BEFEO. XXXVII, 2. p. 686–693 + 6 pl. d’ill. Dupont, Pierre, 1939. “Rapport de M. Dupont sur sa mission archéologique (18 janvier–25 mai 1939).” BEFEO. XXXIX. p. 350–365 + ill. Dupont, Pierre, 1940. “Thaïlande. Deuxième mission archéologique.” BEFEO. XL, 1. p. 503–504. Dupont, Pierre, 1948. “Recherches sur l’archéologie indo-mône de Nakhon Pathom (Siam) conduites en 1939 et 1940.” Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des inscriptions et belles lettres. Paris. p. 237–242. Dupont, Pierre, 1949. “Recherches archéologiques au Siam.” Bulletin de la Société des Études indochinoises. 24, 3, 3e semestre. p. 79–92 + 2 pl.; Réimpression, Aséanie. nº4, Décembre 1999. p. 165–186. Dupont, Pierre, 1953. L’archéologie indo-mône et les fouilles de Nakhon Pathom. Thèse doctorat, lettres: Université de Paris. Dupont, Pierre, 1954. La version mône du Narada-Jataka. EFEO, Paris. Publications de l’EFEO, noXXXVI. 283 p. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

35

Dupont, Pierre, 1959. L’archéologie mône de Dvāravatī. EFEO, Paris. Publications de l’EFEO, noXLI. 2 vol. (vol. 1 : 329 p. + 3 cartes + 11 fig. + 15 p.; vol. 2 : 152 pl.) Dupont, Pierre, 2006. The Archaeology of the Mons of Dvaravati. Translated with Updates, Additional Figures and Plans by Joyanto K. Sen. Sen, Joyanto K., tr. White Lotus, Bangkok. Fine Arts Department, 1999a. The Archaeology and History of Suphanburi. Bangkok. 113 p. (Krom Silpakorn. Borankhadi le Prawatisat Muang Suphanburi. กรมศิลปากร, 2542. โบราณคดีและประวัติศาสตร์เมืองสุพรรณบุรี 2542. 113 หน้า.) Fine Arts Department, 1999b. Phra Pathom Chedi National Museum. Bangkok. 116 p. [Bilingual document] Fine Arts Department, 2005. Artifacts in the Phra Pathom Chedi National Museum. 250 p. (Krom Silpakorn, Boran Watthu nai Phiphithaphan Sathan heng Chat Phra Pathom Chedi. กรมศิลปากร, 2005. โบราณวัตถุในพิพิธภัณฑ-สถานแห่งชาติ พระปฐมเจดีย์. กรมศิลปากร, กรุงเทพฯ 2005, 250 หน้า.) Fine Arts Department, 2009. Dvāravatī Art. The Early Buddhist Artt of Thailand. Bangkok. 248 p. [Bilingual document] Finot, Louis, 1910. “Inscriptions du Siam et de la Péninsule malaise (Mission Lunet de Lajonquière).” Bulletin de la Commission archéologique de l’Indochine. p. 147–154 + pl. Fournereau, Lucien, 1895. Le Siam ancien, archéologie, épigraphie, géographie. Ernest Leroux, Paris. Première partie (Annales du Musée Guimet, t.27). xi–321 p. + pl. Fournereau, Lucien, 1908. Le Siam ancien, archéologie, épigraphie, géographie. Ernest Leroux, Paris. Deuxième partie (Annales du Musée Guimet, t.31). III–138 p. Hennequin, Laurent, 2006a. “Une visite à Nakhon Pathom en 1908.” Aséanie. no17, Juin. p. 151–192. Hennequin, Laurent, 2006b. Les études sur Nakhon Pathom dans les documents français. Rapport de recherche, Octobre. xii–222 p. Hennequin, Laurent, 2006c. “The First Western Report on the Archaeology of Nakhon Pathom: Fournereau, 1895.” เอกสารประกอบการประชุมทางวิชาการ เรื่องเวที

วิชาการเพื่อเสนอผลงาน และรายงาน การวิจัยประจำปี พ.ศ. 2549. คณะกรรมการ ส่งเสริมการวิจัย, คณะอักษรศาสตร, มหาวิทยาลัยศิลปากร, นครปฐ. หน้า 29–48.

(Documents of the Academic Meeting for the Presentation of Research Works of 2006. Committee dor the Development of Research, Faculty of Arts, Silpakorn University, Nakhon Pathom. p. 29–48. Ekasan Prakop Kan Prachum Thang Wichakan ruang Wethi Wichakan phua Sanoe Phon Ngan le Rajkan Wichaj. Pracham Pi Pho So Song Phan Ha Roi Sisip Kao. Khana Kammakan Songsoem Kan Wichai, Khana Aksonsat, Maha Withayalai Silpakorn, Nakhon Pathom.) Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

36

Laurent Hennequin

Hennequin, Laurent, 2007. “French Documents on Nakhon Pathom Studies (Lunet de Lajonquière, Cœdès, Claeys, Dupont).” เอกสารประกอบ การประชุมทางวิชาการ

เรือ่ งเวทีวชิ าการเพือ่ เสนอผลงาน และรายงานการวิจยั ประจำปี พ.ศ. 2550. คณะกรรมการ ส่งเสริมการวิจัย, คณะอักษรศาสตร, มหาวิทยาลัยศิลปากร, นครปฐ. หน้า 1–21.

(Documents of the Academic Meeting for the Presentation of Research Works of 2007. Committee for the Development of Research, Faculty of Arts, Silpakorn University, Nakhon Pathom. p. 1–21. Ekasan Prakop Kan Prachum Thang Wichakan ruang Wethi Wichakan phua Sanoe Phon Ngan le Rajkan Wichaj. Pracham Pi Pho So Song Phan Ha Roi Ha Sip. Khana Kammakan Songsoem Kan Wichai, Khana Aksonsat, Maha Withayalai Silpakorn, Nakhon Pathom.) Hennequin, Laurent, 2008a. “The Excavations at Wat Phra Men (Nakhon Pathom) and the Writings on the Monument.” เอกสารประกอบการประชุมทางวิชาการ เรื่องเวที

วิชาการเพื่อเสนอ ผลงานและรายงาน การวิจัย ประจำปี พ.ศ. 2551. คณะกรรมการส่งเส ริมการวิจยั , คณะอักษรศาสตร์, มหาวิทยาลัยศิลปากร, นครปฐม, 2551. หน้า 135–157.

(Documents of the Academic Meeting for the Presentation of Research Works of 2008. Committee for the Development of Research, Faculty of Arts, Silpakorn University, Nakhon Pathom. p. 135–157. Ekasan Prakop Kan Prachum Thang Wichakan ruang Wethi Wichakan phua Sanoe Phon Ngan le Rajkan Wichaj. Pracham Pi Pho So Song Phan Ha Roi Ha Sip-et. Khana Kammakan Songsoem Kan Wichai, Khana Aksonsat, Maha Withayalai Silpakorn, Nakhon Pathom.) Hennequin, Laurent, 2008b. Wat Phra Men (Nakhon Pathom): Témoignages archéologiques et documentaires. Rapport de recherche, décembre. xv– 270 p. Hennequin, Laurent, 2009. “Nakhon Pathom au temps de Lucien Fournereau.” Dvāravatī, aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande. Musée Guimet, Paris, Février. p. 137–143. Hennequin, Laurent, forthcoming. “Phra Prathon Chedi de Nakhon Pathom. Description du monument et comparaisons.” Jacques, Claude, 2009. “Dvāravatī, un royaume sans histoire.” Dvāravatī, aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande. Musée Guimet, Paris, Février. p. 27–29. Le May, Reginald, 1938. A Concise History of Buddhist Art in Siam; Buddhist Art in South-East Asia. The Indian Influence of Buddhist Art in Siam. Aryan Books International, New Delhi, 2004. 163 p. + 2 maps + 205 ill. Lunet de Lajonquière, Étienne Edmond, 1907. Inventaire descriptif des monuments du Cambodge. Paris. Lunet de Lajonquière, Étienne Edmond, 1909a. “Rapport sommaire sur une mission archéologique au Cambodge, au Siam, dans la Presqu’île malaise Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

37

et dans l’Inde (1907–1908).” Bulletin de la Commission archéologique de l’Indochine. p. 162–187; Tiré à part, Impr. nationale, Paris. 30 p. Lunet de Lajonquière, Étienne Edmond, 1909b. “Le domaine archéologique du Siam.” Bulletin de la Commission archéologique de l’Indochine. p. 188–262 + cartes + 21 ill.; Tiré à part, Impr. nationale, Paris, 1909. 79 p. + 8 pl. + cartes + 21 ill. Lunet de Lajonquière, Étienne Edmond, 1909c. “Rapport sommaire sur une mission archéologique au Cambodge, au Siam, dans la Presqu’île malaise et dans l’Inde (1907–1908).” BEFEO. IX, 2, Avril–juin. p. 351–368. Lunet de Lajonquière, Étienne Edmond, 1912. “Essai d’inventaire archéologique du Siam.” Bulletin de la Commission archéologique de l’Indochine. p. 19–181; Hennequin, Laurent, : “Une visite à Nakhon Pathom en 1908.” Aséanie. no17, Juin 2006. p. 151–192 [The passages on Nakhon Pathom are accompanied by a historical and critical study.] Lunet de Lajonquière, Étienne Edmond, 1986. Le Siam et les Siamois. [First edition, Paris, A. Colin, 1904.] Second edition, White Orchid Press, Bangkok. 355 p. National Library, 1986. Inscriptions of Thailand. Vol. 1. Pallava and Post-Pallava Alphabets. 7th–9th Centuries. Fine Arts Department, Bangkok. (Charuk nai Prathet Thai Lem thi Nung Akson Palawa le Lang Palawa Phutthasatawat thi sipsong sip si. หอสมุดแห่งชาติ, กรมศิลปากร, 2529. จารึกในประเทศไทย เล่มที่ ๑ อักษรปัลลวะและหลังปัลลวะ พุทธศตวรรษ ที่ ๑๒, ๑๔. กรมศิลปากร, กรุงเทพ ฯ.) Pelliot, Paul, 1904. “Deux itinéraires de Chine en Inde à la fin du VIIIe siècle.” BEFEO. IV, 1–2, Janvier–juin. p. 131–413. Phatharaphong Kao-Ngoen, 2002. “History of the Investigations and Related Documents.” Archaeology of U-Thong. Fine Arts Department, Bangkok, p. 1–13. (“Prawatisat Kan Damnoen Kan le Ekasan thi Kiaw Khong.” Borankhadi Muang U-Thong. ภัทรพงษ์, เก่าเงิน, 2545. “ประวัติการดำเนินการ และเอกสาร ที่เกี่ยวข้อง” โบราณคดีเมืองอู่ทอง. กรุงเทพ ฯ. หน้า 1–13.) Picard, Charles, 1955. “La lampe alexandrine de P’ong Tuk (Siam).” Artibus Asiae. 18. p. 137–149. Pichard, Pierre, 1999. “[Introduction to] Dupont, Pierre, 1949: “Recherches archéologiques au Siam.” BSEI. 24, 3, 3e semestre 1949.” Aséanie. nº4, Décembre. p. 165–186. Pichard, Pierre, 2006. “Archéologie, monuments historiques, conservation du patrimoine: un siècle de coopération franco-thaïe.” La Thaïlande: Continuité du partenariat avec la France. Actes du colloque tenu en Sorbonne le 18 septembre 2006. Ministère de la culture, Bangkok. p. 71–90. Piriya Krairiksh, 1975. The Chula Pathon Chedi: Architecture and Sculpture of Dvāravatī. Harvard University, Cambridge (Massachussetts), May. 424 p. + ill. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

38

Laurent Hennequin

Sakchai Saisingha, 2009. The Art of Dvāravatī. The First Buddhist Civilization in Thai Territory. Muang Boran, Bangkok. (Silapa Thawaradi. Watanatham Yuk Rek Roem naj Din Den Thai. ศักดิ์ชัย สายสิงห์ 2547, ศิลปะทวารวดี. วัฒนธร รมพุทธศาสนายุคแรกเริ่ม ในดินแดนไทย. เมืองโบราณ, กรุงเทพ ฯ 2547.) Sakchai Saisingha, 2009. “Dvāravatī Art.” Dvāravatī Art. The Early Buddhist Art of Thailand. Fine Arts Department, Bangkok. p. 97–109. Subhadradis Diskul, Mom Chao, 1978. L’art en Thaïlande. Khaisri Sri-Aroon, tr. Bangkok. Thiphakon Wong, Chao Phraya, 1961. Phra Racha Phongsawadan Krung Ratanakosin. Rachakan Thi Si. (The Royal Chronicles of the Ratanakosin Era. The Fourth Reign. เจ้าพระยาทิพากรวงศ,์ 2504. พระราชพงศาวดารกรุงรัตนโ กสินทร์, รัชกาลที่ ๔. คุรุสภา, กรุงเทพ, 2504. เล่ม 2, 270 หน้า.) Usa Nguanphienphak, 2009a. “Fouilles récentes au Phra Pathon Chedi.” GastonAubert, Jean-Pierre, tr. Dvāravatī, aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande. Musée Guimet, Paris, février. p. 145–150. Usa Nguanphienphak, 2009b. “Dvāravatī Cultural Background.” Dvāravatī Art. The Early Buddhist Art of Thailand. Fine Arts Department, Bangkok. 248 p. Zéphir, Thierry, 2009. “L’image symbolique de la Loi bouddhique.” Dvāravatī, aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande. Musée Guimet, Paris, février p. 75–81.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

Figure 1: Wheels of the Law and a stele representing the Buddha preaching Source: Fournereau 1895, 120

Figure 2: A linga on a somasutra Source: Fournereau 1895, 123 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

39

40

Laurent Hennequin

Figure 3: Ye dhammā inscription as read and translated by Barth Source: Fournereau 1895, 86

Figure 4: “Phra Pathom Cheidi (Statuette of a crouching deer)” Source: Lunet de Lajonquière 1909b, 221, fig. 16

Figure 5: “Phra Pathom Cheidi (Fragment of a stele)” Source: Lunet de Lajonquière 1909b, 221, fig. 15

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

Figure 6: Phra Pathom votive tablets Source: Cœdès 1925, pl. III

Figure 7: “Octogonal pillar from Lapaburi (Inscription XVIII)” Source: Cœdès 1961, pl. III Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

41

42

Laurent Hennequin

Figure 8: Frontispiece of the first edition of the second volume of inscriptions, Cœdès 1929

Figure 9: “Statue of standing Buddha, Dvāravatī art, Ayudhyā, Vat Nā Braú Meru. Blueish limestone. H. 1.75. Probably 6th century.” Source: Cœdès 1928, pl. III Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

43

Figure 10: “Visitors: the Governor and representatives of Nakhon Pathom population. Project EFEO, excavation 1940”. Pierre Dupont is standing at centre. The picture was taken in front of Chula Prathon. Source: EFEO archives, fonds Thaïlande, 7866

Figure 11: Items of sculptural decoration from Chedi Chula Prathon Source: Dupont 1959, figs. 108 and 110

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

44

Laurent Hennequin

Figure 12: “Vat Prah Pathon, Nakon Pathom, Thailand. Various heads from the central tower. Stucco. EFEO project, April–June 1940” Source: EFEO archives, fonds Thaïlande 7805

Figure 13: Head of a yakṣa (giant) excavated at Wat Phra Men in 1939 Present location: National Museum, Bangkok Source: National Archives of Thailand, CD 0038 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

45

Figure 14: The two sides of an inscribed stone found at Wat Pho (Nakhon Pathom) Source: Cœdès 1952, 29 Figure 15: Cover of the catalogue to the exhibition on Thai art at Musée Cernuschi in 1964

Figure 16: H. R. H. Prince Subhadradis Diskul (right) on a field trip at Prasat Muang Singha with Jean Boisselier (left) Source: Université Silpakorn : Jean Boisselier. Dernier hommage. Université Silpakorn, Bangkok, 1996, p. 8 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

46

Laurent Hennequin

Figure 17: Young boy with a monkey, U-Thong National Museum Source: Boisselier 1987, 65, fig. 36

Figure 18: Head and torso of the reclining Buddha at Tham Fa Tho, Ratchaburi P h o t o : L a u r e n t Hennequin, 21 December 2008

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

The French Contribution to the Rediscovery of Dvāravatī Archaeology

Figure 19: Panel from Chula Prathon showing the first two stages of decoration: ancient smaller terracota figures (on the right) and a more recent larger stucco figure (on the left) Present location: Phra Pathom Chedi National Museum Photo: Laurent Hennequin, 9 July 2005

Figure 20: Drawings showing the installation of wheels with an abacus, a pillar and deer Source: Boisselier 1987, 206 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

47

48

Laurent Hennequin

Figure 21: Plan of the ancient city of Nakhon Pathom and of the surroundings, showing the important historical sites Source: Boisselier 1969, fig. 7

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

49

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong Mae Nang Muang, an Ancient Gateway to the Upper Chao Phraya Basin

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

Dong Mae Nang Muang, in Banpotpisai district, Nakorn Sawan province is the present-day name for the site of Thanya Pura, one of the northernmost settlements of Dvaravati culture (6th–11th centuries CE) in central Thailand. Research conducted to date extends from the first surveys and excavations by the Fine Arts Department in 1956 and 1967 to recent projects of master’s degree students of the Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University and the Fine Arts Department, Lopburi, 2008–2009. The material culture and archaeological record of the site, its period of occupation, state of preservation of extant monuments and new evidence of inhumation practices are discussed. The evidence shows that Dong Mae Nang Muang was an important political, economic, religious and artistic centre in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin.

Located in the upper reaches of the Chao Phraya Basin, the ancient site of Dong Mae Nang Muang marks one of the northernmost settlements of Dvaravati culture in central Thailand (figure 1). Strategically placed on tributaries of major river systems, the settlement flourished for a period of approximately 400 years between the 8th and 12th centuries CE. Despite being located over 300 kilometres north of the modern-day coastline, Dong Mae Nang Muang was not an isolated site on the periphery, but participated in and contributed to the vibrant cultural, religious, artistic and economic exchanges that took place within the Dvaravati culture of central Thailand. The present article discusses the research conducted to date at the site of Dong Mae Nang Muang, from the first surveys and excavations of the Fine Arts Department in 1956 and 1967 to the recent research projects of master’s degree students at the Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University and the Fine Arts Department, Lopburi in 2008 and 2009.1 The discussion begins to clarify our understanding of the site, its characteristics, material, artistic and religious culture and relationship with surrounding Dvaravati settlements in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin and central Thailand as a whole. The discussion first The substance of this article was presented at the First International Dvāravatī Symposium, held at the National Museum, Bangkok on 3 September 2009. 1 Co-author Pongkasetkan’s master’s degree thesis for Silpakorn University, which is entitled “Cultural development of the ancient town of Dong Mae Nang Muang, Banpotpisai district, Nakornsawan province” (forthcoming in 2010), is based in part on the recent excavation work. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

50

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

Figure 1. Map showing the site of Dong Mae Nang Muang and the major Dvāravatī period settlements in the Chao Phraya Basin and northeastern Thailand. Photograph courtesy of Matthew D. Gallon.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

51

Figure 2. View of Chedi No. 5 in 2010. Authors’ photograph.

Figure 4. Map showing the site of Dong Mae Nang Muang and the areas excavated during the 2008–2009 research project. Image adapted from Google Earth. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

52

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

Figure 3. Archaeological objects discovered during the course of excavation in 2009. Clockwise from the bottom: (1) Dvāravatī earthenware pottery, (2) Dvāravatī terracotta oil lamp, (3) Persian ware, (4) green-glazed Angkor-period stoneware, (5) Dvāravatī spindle whorl. Authors’ photographs. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

53

Figure 5. Three types of inhumations discovered at MS1. Clockwise from bottom left: (1) “bag” burial, (2) extended burial, (3) flex burial. Authors’ photographs.

Figure 6. Limestone sema located at MS1. Authors’ photograph. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

54

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

contextualizes Dong Mae Nang Muang in its geographical setting with settlements in the near vicinity. Its characteristics and earlier research carried out at the site are reviewed, as well as the archaeological material and monuments discovered. The discussion covers recent survey and excavation work during 2008 and 2009 and concludes with the site’s regional importance. Dong Mae Nang Muang, or Thanya Pura as it was known in antiquity, was a powerful economic, political, artistic and religious centre in its own right and, in a sense, was a gateway to and from the Upper Chao Phraya Basin.

The Upper Chao Phraya Basin

The site of Dong Mae Nang Muang lies within the region today classified as the Upper Chao Phraya Basin. A brief description of this area is provided below in order to place the site within its broader geographical context.

Definition of the Upper Chao Phraya Basin, its landforms and river systems Research and investigations undertaken by Chulalongkorn University (Phongsabutr 1991) has approached the central basin of Thailand as two separate parts: the upper central basin, composed of the Lower Ping River and Lower Yom–Nan River, otherwise known as the “Pitsanulok Basin”; and the lower central basin, the so-called “Chao Phraya Basin”. The Chao Phraya Basin in turn is composed of the Upper Chao Phraya and Lower Chao Phraya basins. The Pitsanulok Basin’s southern boundary is defined by the beginning of the Chao Phraya River at Muang district, Nakorn Sawan province. The Chao Phraya Basin includes the area of Muang district, Nakorn Sawan province as far as Samut Prakarn province, southeast of modern Bangkok. The territory of the Upper Chao Phraya Basin consists of Kamphaeng Phet, Pichit, Pitsanulok, Nakorn Sawan and the upper part of Chainat province. The main waterways of this area are the Lower Ping River, the Lower Yom–Nan River and the Chao Phraya River. Since the Ping and Yom–Nan are major river systems that originate in northern Thailand, by the time they reach the Upper Chao Phraya Basin they have become large-scale, fast-flowing rivers with especially high water levels during the rainy season. Furthermore they have several tributaries that form large-scale river systems in their own right. Some of them, namely the Klong Kot, a tributary of the Nan River and the Huay Khamin, a tributary of the Ping River, were connected to the settlement of Dong Mae Nang Muang during the Dvaravati period, most likely for irrigation, communication and water management. The Upper Chao Phraya Basin is characterized by alluvial plains, a result of its location at the end of major waterways and because it forms part of the middle-to-late Pleistocene delta, particularly in the area of Muang district, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

55

Nakorn Sawan province. Having numerous important rivers and streams, the Upper Chao Phraya Basin is a fertile alluvial plain that has favoured agriculture and settlement from prehistoric times to the present day. Dvaravati settlements in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin Apart from Dong Mae Nang Muang, the Upper Chao Phraya Basin possesses a number of other important Dvaravati period sites. A summary of five of them below helps in placing Dong Mae Nang Muang within its wider cultural context and highlighting settlements with which it may have had both direct and indirect contact. 1. Chansen. The archaeological site of Chansen is situated in Chansen sub-district, Takhli district, Nakorn Sawan province. The settlement is a characteristically Dvaravati moated site with a surrounding rampart. The site was excavated by the Fine Arts Department in conjunction with Bennet Bronson, a doctoral student from University of Pennsylvania (Bronson 1976). The excavations revealed that the site had been occupied from the late Iron Age

(1st century BCE onwards) to the Dvaravati period and also provided the first Dvaravati pottery typology for central Thailand. The most remarkable find from this site was an ivory comb, which is thought to have been imported from Taxila in present-day Pakistan. Much of the evidence from the site shows economic interaction between the local inhabitants and trade routes connected with

Indo-Roman merchants. 2. U-Trapao. The archaeological site of U-Trapao dates from the late Iron Age to the Dvaravati period. Situated in Manorom district, Chainat province, in close proximity to the river terrace of the Hang Nam Sacorn, a tributary of the Chao Phraya River, it is a sub-round moated site with a surrounding rampart. One remarkable feature is the group of Dvaravati sites located in close proximity. U-Trapao therefore, may have functioned as a centre with sites such as Dongkorn, Paikwang, Klong Muay and Bangpra in Sanburi district being satellites. That may reflect a settlement hierarchy; however, more research is required to confirm or reject such an hypothesis. The site was excavated in 1988 and 1990 by the Fine Arts Department, providing information about its cultural development from the prehistoric to Ayutthaya periods (Wilaikeo 1991). Dharmachakra, coins with srivatsa motifs, deer figurines, monuments, iron smelting furnaces and the burials were found. While the dharmachakra, srivatsa coins and monuments were thought to represent Dvaravati material culture, the furnaces and burials date from the prehistoric period. 3. Kok Mai Den. Discovered by Quaritch Wales, Kok Mai Den was excavated by the Fine Arts Department in 1965 (Wales 1965; Yupho 1965; Thailand 2000, 2002). Located in Phayuha Khiri district, Nakorn Sawan Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

56

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

province, the site can be separated into two parts: the territory of the ancient settlement, located on the left side of the modern-day Phaloyothin road; and an area in the nearby mountain ranges. This second settlement is composed of a moat and rampart like many other Dvaravati sites. Several monuments are located on top of a hill in a mountainous area with one of them (No. 4-2) surrounded by sema stones. Evidence for Dvaravati material culture found here includes votive tablets, terracotta oil lamps (referred to in Thai language as “Roman style”), a Buddhist “Ye Dharma…” inscription and stucco. Kok Mai Den shows no evidence of pre-Dvaravati occupation but continues to the early Sukhothai and Ayutthaya periods. 4. Khaogralone. Dating from the late prehistoric to Dvaravati period, Khaogralone is situated in Khanuworaluksaburi district, Kamphaeng Phet. The site was surveyed by students from the Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University in 1987 (Sampaothip 1993); however, to date no excavations have taken place. The site is located in mountainous terrain and consists of ruined monuments with sema stones, numerous potsherds and polished hand-axes. Unfortunately, the occupied area and the monuments of this site were destroyed by quarrying in 1987, but there are still many artefacts visible on the surface.

A number of polished hand-axes found here suggest that it may have been a production site during the late prehistoric to Dvaravati period. 5. Thap Chumpon. The site is a well-known Dvaravati settlement since a Buddhist “Ye Dharma…” inscription was discovered here on a terracotta stupa. Thap Chumpon is located in Muang district, Nakorn Sawan province. It is a round-shaped, moated site with surrounding rampart. While no excavations have taken place, it is known from epigraphic study (Ocharoen 1985). Survey work conducted in 2008 and 2009 by co-author Pongkasetkan has revealed carinated potsherds, fragments of terracotta stupas and Chinese ware. All five sites are located in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin and have a number of common characteristics and material culture remains. Their location on or near river systems would have allowed for convenient access to travel by waterways. They were thus ideally placed to control trade and communication routes between themselves and Dong Mae Nang Muang as well as settlements farther afield in the Lower Chao Phraya Basin.

The Site of Dong Mae Nang Muang

Dong Mae Nang Muang is the present-day name of the Dvaravati-period settlement known through inscriptional evidence as Thanya Pura. It is situated in Banpotpisai district, Nakorn Sawan province. It is a moated site with a surrounding rampart. At some stage during the Dvaravati period, it was extended to the west by the addition of an extra moat resulting in the ground plan changing Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

57

from square-shaped to more oblong in character. The site measures 630 by 650 metres and covers an area of approximately 40 hectares. This site came to be widely known due to the discovery of Inscription K966 of Dong Mae Nang Muang which mentions the name of a local king and is dated 1167 CE. The site is located between two tributaries of the Ping and Nan rivers, the Klong Kot or Klong Takiana, a tributary of the Nan River and the Huay Khamin, a tributary of Ping River. It appears that the inhabitants of the site adapted the tributaries of the two main rivers to create the moat and control the waterways for irrigation and water management. It also appears that they constructed a rampart, little evidence of which survives today. The current proposed dates of occupation for the site cover the 8th to 12th centuries CE, on the basis of relative dating techniques. For example, the earthenware Dvaravati pottery suggests a date from the 8th century onwards; the stoneware and Persian ware point towards the 9th and 10th centuries; stucco found during excavations at monument MS1 is late Dvaravati in style, so falls between the 10th and 11th centuries; while Inscription K966 gives a 12th-century date. The application of absolute dating techniques (radiocarbon and thermoluminescence dating) are planned for the near future on the material excavated in 2008 and 2009 and should help in refining the occupation sequence and dating of the site. Dong Mae Nang Muang was first surveyed in 1956 and excavated by the Fine Arts Department in 1967. Unfortunately, severe flooding at the site office resulted in loss of the excavation report; today only the notes remain (Vallibhotama 1985). At the time, the archaeological excavations at the site provided some of the most important information on Dvaravati settlements in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin. Nowadays, the area of the site is used for growing crops such as corn, sugarcane and tapioca. The moat is still functioning, however, with water from the Ping and Nan tributaries. Most of the rampart has been greatly disturbed and almost totally levelled by cultivation, particularly in the southern and western parts of the site. A modern temple located within the western extension is named Wat Dong Mae Nang Muang. The local site museum is situated within its grounds and displays artefacts which have been collected from the site over the past five decades or so. Previous research and publications Archaeological research at the site of Dong Mae Nang Muang began in 1956 when the Fine Arts Department conducted survey work. Two further surveys were undertaken before the work conducted in 2008 and 2009. The following discussion highlights not only the archaeological discoveries made during this work but also the problems that have arisen due to looting and disturbance of the archaeological record. Attempts have been made to alleviate Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

58

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

the problem through heritage management programmes, consultation and cooperation with local villagers. However, even though looting of monuments has to a large extent been curtailed and prevented, people still regularly walk the ploughed fields in search of beads to sell at local markets.

Survey and excavations by the Fine Arts Department, 1956 and 1967. The following discussion of the 1956 survey and 1967 excavations is based on the notes that were published in 1985 (Vallibhotama), as no other literature on the subject exists. The survey work of 1956 led to the identification of the settlement as belonging to the Dvaravati period. In the 1950s the site was covered by tropical forest with abundant wildlife, so it was called dong, which means “forest” in Thai. The notes that describe the site’s condition mention a number of earthen mounds being present. The survey also found a number of Buddha images, votive tablets and Inscription K966. The Fine Arts Department therefore organised an excavation project that took place 11 years later, in 1967. The project in 1967 included a ground survey, recording of the settlement plan and excavation. The ground survey described the geography, waterways and land use. Fields were cultivated principally in annual crops and cereals. Many standing stones that were found all over the site were suggested to be sema stones (Vallibhotama 1985). The earthen mounds were surveyed and identified as chedi (stupa) and vihara (assembly halls). It appears that they were all excavated to a certain extent.2 The 1967 project focused primarily on the monuments. The excavations uncovered objects identifiable as Dvaravati material culture such as bronze and terracotta Buddha images, votive tablet moulds, burials and terracotta votive tablets. Since only monuments were excavated, the project did not provide detailed stratigraphical sequences for the site. The monuments themselves were identified as mainly Dvaravati in style, but no definite conclusions were reached since only the base and foundations remained. There are a total of 15 mounds throughout the site, most of which represent monuments; one could also be a kiln. Tragically, however, all of the earthen mounds were severely looted before the Fine Arts Department’s project came about and were in an extremely damaged condition by the time the excavations took place. The value of the project was the revelation of a significant Dvaravati settlement in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin that could in turn be compared with other Dvaravati sites throughout central Thailand. Its characteristics and the The surviving notes do not provide a detailed enough account to say which mounds were or were not excavated. It is also difficult to match monuments on the ground today with those described in 1967. 2

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

59

discovery of the inscription led it to be considered as a political and religious centre.

Survey work by students of the Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University, 1987. This survey work was carried out in 1987 by students from the Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University (Sampaothip 1993). The article describes how this site was severely disturbed through looting by villagers after the Fine Arts Department excavations. The archaeological materials looted from the illegal excavations include Buddha images, votive tablets, glass and semiprecious stone beads, bronze rings and bracelets and human bone. The villagers looted the site both by hand and with machinery. This article therefore documents the amount and nature of disturbance that has occurred at the site over the years and serves as an important resource for subsequent research at Dong Mae Nang Muang.

Cultural Organization Program by Rajaphat Nakorn Sawan University. This project was carried out by Rajaphat Nakorn Sawan University in 1999 (Rajaphat Nakorn Sawan University 1999). The project aimed to do preliminary survey interviews with the villagers who lived within the area of the ancient settlement. The survey focused on the condition of the monuments and interviews were conducted to gather information about the archaeological objects that were kept by the local people. This project attempted to explain to the local villagers the importance of the site and it also gave guidelines for cultural and heritage management. The success and overall impact of this project was, however, rather limited but does at least represent an attempt to deal with the issue of looting. The Archaeological Record at Dong Mae Nang Muang This section provides an overview of the archaeological evidence present at the site in order to build a more complete picture of the material, artistic, religious, economic and political culture present at Dong Mae Nang Muang during the Dvaravati period.

The K966 Inscription. Discovered near a monument, Chedi No. 5 (figure 2), at the centre of town, Inscription K966 was moved to the National Museum, Bangkok in 1956 (Vallibhotama 1985). Sema-like in shape, it is 175 centimetres high and 37 centimetres wide. It is written in Khmer on one face and Pali on the other, and was translated by Cham Thongkamwan in 1956 (Vallibhotama 1978; Thailand 1965). Some researchers have proposed that certain words appear similar to words in the Thai language and should be considered as a prototype for Thai language in the Sukhothai period (Veeraprajuk 1983). Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

60

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

Inscription K966 mentions a local king named Sunat, who ruled at the city of Thanya Pura. It states the population of the city was exactly 2,012 people and defines the geographical boundary of the city itself. It also refers to a Kamraten Jagat Sri Dharmasoka Raja which Coedès (1961) proposed might re present a deified king or “god-king”; however, modern scholarship has largely rejected this theory with the term understood to be a title of kingship only (Jacques 1999, 44; Vickery 1998, 423–425). Woodward (2005, 163–165) argues that “Sri Dharmasoka Raja” refers to both the name of a king and a relic. The inscription states that on 5 February 1167 a king named Asoka gave gifts to a relic installed at Chedi No. 5. Woodward gives two explanations for this: that (1) the king gave his name to a relic of the Buddha and (2) the relic consisted of the remains of a former king also called Asoka, as this title appears to be hereditary during this period (Wyatt 1975, 29, 94–95). Referring to evidence from the Nakhon Sri Thammarat chronicles, Woodward (2005, 165) points out that a local king, also using the title Asoka, was able to discover lost relics of the Buddha which had been buried in the ground. That, claims Woodward, illustrates that the king’s power derives from his dominion over not only the soil, but the local spirits and the populace at large as only he could discover the location of the hidden relics. Perhaps a similar royal ideology was also in play with the donation of gifts to the relic installed at Chedi No. 5. Woodward further argues that King Dharmasoka did not reside at Dong Mae Nang Muang, suggesting Lopburi as a possible alternative; how Woodward reaches this conclusion is unclear. The 12th century date of the inscription and its execution in Khmer script, paired with the reference to a Kamraten Jagat Sri Dharmasoka Raja, point to a degree of Khmer presence at the site. By the 12th century, central Thailand had largely fallen under the sway of Khmer political control emanating from Lopburi. The inscription may therefore represent a certain amount of Khmer influence at the site; if that is the case, it is interesting to note there is no distinct change in the material record, apart from the presence of green-glazed Angkorperiod stoneware3, and no building of Khmer religious monuments, suggesting that the population by and large stayed the same.

Buddha images and votive tablets. As noted in the surveys of 1987 and 1999, there are numerous reports of votive tablets and Buddha images having been discovered at the site. Unfortunately, none of the objects were found in situ during excavations and therefore caution must be exercised in considering their Green-glazed (ash-glazed) Angkor-period stoneware was until recently referred to as “Phnom Kulen ware” because the only kilns known to have produced this type of pottery were located there. However, recent research has revealed that similar pottery was produced at Sar Sey and Tani (Darith et al. 2008, 275–284). 3

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

61

authenticity. The site museum at Wat Dong Mae Nang Muang houses a small collection of votive tablets donated by villagers who usually discover them accidently while farming. Iconographically and stylistically the votive tablets bear all the hallmarks of the Dvaravati period, with the Buddha usually depicted in a triad or surrounded by stupa images. The majority are probably Dvaravati in date; however, that is impossible to ascertain without secure provenance and without the application of scientific dating techniques. Buddha images looted from the site have found their way into private collections and are largely lost to scholarship and the Thai national heritage. A photograph of one such object was published by Krairiksh (1985, 128). In form it resembles sema from the Khorat Plateau, with a somewhat different iconography showing the Buddha flanked by two individuals whom Krairiksh tentatively identifies as Brahma and Indra (1985, 111). Another possibly Dvaravati Buddha image was discovered by local villagers about 30 years ago near Chedi No. 13 and brought to Wat Dong Mae Nang Muang where it remains to this day. The image is carved in low relief in double vitarka mudra, a Dvaravati iconographic trait, with facial features and depiction of the robe also in Dvaravati art style. This image was probably associated with one of the religious structures at the site, perhaps Chedi No. 13 itself. There are reports of numerous bronze Buddha images from the site, with a number of them still kept by private individuals in the area. Due to their dispersal and lack of provenance, it is impossible to discuss or evaluate them in any detail.

Pottery. During the ground survey and field walking, a large amount of potsherds was discovered throughout the site (figure 3). Earthenware, or hardbaked clay vessels, and stoneware were mainly found. The majority of pottery is earthenware that is mainly used for everyday vessels and consists of such types as dishes, globular pots, carinated pots, bowls, basins and jars. Stoneware vessels that are found are usually smaller in size and come in types such as cassette shape, small jars and bowls. Earthenware finds are significant as certain types can clearly be identified as Dvaravati (referred to as Dvaravati diagnostic evidence) especially types such as the carinated pot (Indrawooth 1985), which is widespread from late prehistory to the late Dvaravati and early Ayutthaya periods. Nevertheless, no earthenware kilns have yet been discovered at the site; by now, however, they would be difficult to identify or might not have survived. A further important observation about the earthenware pottery discoveries is the similarity with those found in certain sites in northeast Thailand. Earthenware pottery from Muang Fa Daed in Kalasin province, and from the sites of Muang Sema and Bahn Tanod in Nakorn Ratchasima province Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

62

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

in particular, is similar in form and design with that found in Dong Mae Nang Muang. The similarity may reflect close relations between the Upper Chao Phraya Basin and northeast Thailand. The stoneware can be divided into two groups: Chinese Northern Song dynasty ware and Khmer green-glazed Angkor-period stoneware from kilns in Cambodia. Both the Chinese ware and the Khmer ware can be dated to the 10th to 12th centuries CE, corresponding to the middle to late Dvaravati period. One notable type of pottery that has been discovered in plentiful amounts in both surface survey and excavation is Persian ware. This type of earthenware pottery has a distinctive turquoise glazed exterior and is datable to circa the 9th century CE. It would have reached central Thailand via trade with India. Its presence at Dong Mae Nang Muang is evidence of active economic exchange between coastal Dvaravati sites and those much farther inland. This type of pottery is usually found as part of a trade “package” along with Chinese wares such as Yue ware, Changsha ware and Xing ware. It is not possible to confirm whether such trade was also present at Dong Mae Nang Muang; future research may cast further light on the matter.

Beads. Beads are found at sites from the prehistoric period to the early Ayutthaya period. The variety created during the Dvaravati period reflects the interconnections between various communities. At Dong Mae Nang Muang, beads are found throughout the site, mostly being discovered by field walking in the present-day ploughed fields; some have been found in secure archaeological contexts. They are made either of glass in a variety of colours or of semiprecious stones or gemstone. There is no evidence of bead production in glass or gemstones in central Thailand; however, there are industrial bead sites in the Malay Peninsula such as at Khao Sam Kaeo where glass-working took place but probably not large-scale glass production (Bellina and Silapanth 2006; Lankton et al. 2008). Therefore, it appears that these objects were manufactured on the peninsula and then traded in central Thailand, among other areas. The glass beads are of two types: monochrome and polychrome. While the majority of beads from the site are monochrome, usually being blue, green, orange or yellow in colour, polychrome beads are more rare; striped and mosaic beads have also been found. Semiprecious stone and gemstone beads are quite rare at Dong Mae Nang Muang. They are usually made of quartz: agate, carnelian, quartz, rose quartz, amethyst, onyx, or garnet. Drilling of semiprecious stone beads is suggested to have been done with a pointed tool made out of metal, bone or mineral (Sarikkabutra 1980). The presence of valuable goods such as beads at this site again illustrates that communication existed, either directly or indirectly, between sites in the Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

63

Upper Chao Phraya Basin and Dvaravati coastal settlements that controlled the maritime trade routes.

Standing stones. Survey work throughout the site has revealed numerous examples of roughly hewn limestone standing stones. Some examples seem to be associated with earthen mounds (see the discussion of MS1 below) while others are found placed in fields or ditches having no clear association with archaeological remains. As agricultural activity has increased dramatically over the last 50 years or so, most of the stones are likely no longer in situ. In some incidences the stones have been gathered and placed around local spirit houses while in other cases they have been placed on top of earthen mounds. As there is no clear evidence for prehistoric occupation at the site and none of the stones has been found in association with burials, they are unlikely to be megalithic in nature. Instead they most probably functioned as sema stones used to demarcate Buddhist sacred space.

Other artefacts. Other discoveries at the site include grinding stones, spindle whorls and stone hand-axes. Grinding stones were used to grind cereal or grain and produce food. In the Dvaravati period they have a very specific design. Spindle whorls (figure 3) were used in making fabrics and textiles. Both types of production reflect evidence of a society exploiting and utilizing its agricultural resources. The numerous grinding stones found at the site indicate that grain and cereal cultivation took place that would have produced a surplus of food for the inhabitants. The spindle whorls are found throughout the site, suggesting that textile manufacture also took place at the settlement. Terracotta oil lamps are another artefact usually found at Dvaravati sites (figure 3). They could have been used to give light in domestic and sacred settings such as monasteries (Indrawooth 1985).

Excavations at Dong Mae Nang Muang, 2008–2009 Since the Fine Arts Department excavations in 1967, no further archaeological research has been conducted at Dong Mae Nang Muang. Since those excavations focused entirely on the monuments, no evidence for the length or nature of human occupation was obtained. Hence, the project “Cultural development of the ancient town of Dong Mae Nang Muang” was initiated

by one of the present authors (Pongkasetkan) in order to explore the cultural

and chronological development of the site. Field activity entailed survey

work, interviewing of local villagers and excavation from January 2008 to July 2009.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

64

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

Excavation of test pits TP1–TP4 and RTP1. Excavations took place between April and July 20094 and consist of four 3 by 3 metre test pits (TP1-4), one test trench through the rampart (RTP1) and excavation of an earthen mound designated MS1 (figure 4). Two test pits, TP3 and TP4, were located within the interior of the moat. TP1 was located in the area enclosed by the western moat extension, while TP2 was situated outside the moat. All four test pits were excavated in order to clarify the stratigraphy and archaeological record and to provide information on the material culture, dating and activities being carried out at the site. The rampart test trench was excavated in the interior moat while MS1 lies just outside the southern moat. TP1 was excavated to gain information on the dating and nature of the western extension of the site. The stratigraphy revealed evidence of occupation in the form of carinated potsherds, a polished hand-axe and animal bones; activity in these layers did not appear to have been particularly dense. Dvaravati occupation was divided into two separate layers. The earlier layer, discovered at depths of between 1.50 and 1.80 metres below datum, might represent occupation in the area before the moat extension was constructed. A break occurs in the stratigraphy where no occupational evidence is found. Dvaravati occupation reappears at depths of between 40 and 80 centimetres below datum. That layer may represent later occupation of the site after the moat extension had been completed. TP2, located outside the moat and close to the Ping River tributary, was excavated to examine the nature of the occupation and land use outside of the settlement. Very few sherds were discovered in this test pit and the stratigraphy and soil analysis suggest that the area was swampland during the occupation period of the site. The Dvaravati occupation layer is very slight, spanning depths of 20 to 50 centimetres below datum only. TP3 was located at the centre of the settlement, close to Chedi No. 5 where Inscription K966 was discovered. The stratigraphy shows dense occupation with the Dvaravati contexts spanning depths of 20 to 150 centimetres below datum. Various types of potsherds were excavated, particularly stoneware, which was not produced locally and represents imported goods. Chinese, Khmer and Persian ware are among the pottery types found. Other artefacts such as glass and semiprecious stone beads were found in a stratigraphic layer datable to circa the 10th to 12th centuries. TP4 was excavated at the southern part of the town, close to the southern rampart, approximately 100 metres from earthen mound MS1. Once again, the stratigraphy reveals dense occupation layers with the Dvaravati contexts The present discussion is preliminary in nature. Full analysis of the excavated material is ongoing and a full site report will be submitted to the Fine Arts Department at Lopburi in due course. 4

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

65

spanning depths of 40 to 280 centimetres below datum. The pottery record was similar to TP3 and once again local earthenware, Chinese, Khmer and Persian ware was unearthed. Glass and semiprecious stone wares were again found. At the base of the pit postholes was discovered the remains of what could represent a hut or another type of structure from the Dvaravati period. Several species of animal bones were also found, mainly antelope, tortoise, fish and cow. TP4 is datable to circa the 10th to 12th centuries. The excavation of the rampart (RPT1) took place on the western (outer) side of the inner moat. While the inner moat still remains, the rampart itself is no longer clearly visible, suggesting that it has been levelled by modern agricultural activity or was never actually very high in its original state. The test trench was 3.80 metres long and 1.50 metres wide; sterile sand was reached at a depth of 2.70 metres below datum. A number of Dvaravati earthenware sherds were found in the lower stratigraphical layers, permitting the conclusion that the moat and rampart are both of the Dvaravati period. The test pit data yield new information about population density, habitation and economic activity at the site. The main inhabited and economic areas were located within the moat. The western extension and the area directly outside the moat appear to be much less densely occupied; further survey and excavation work are need to give a complete picture. As would be expected, the moat and rampart are contemporaneous with the rest of the site. Their construction took place within the Dvaravati period. Trade between Dong Mae Nang Muang and Dvaravati port towns in the Lower Chao Phraya Basin is evidenced by goods from India, the Middle East and China. While Chinese ware is commonly found in many Dvaravati sites, green-glazed Angkor-period stoneware ware is unusual. This latter type of pottery possibly indicates a direct connection with the Khmer Empire based around Angkor and may be evidence of the growing Khmer influence in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin at that time.

Excavation of the earthen mound MS1. Dong Mae Nang Muang has numerous earthen mounds inside and outside the moat. They are presumed to be religious structures of some kind, perhaps stupas, viharn or ubosot, but it is impossible to say for certain without detailed investigation of each individual structure. The loss of the site report of the 1967 excavations and the severe looting that the mounds themselves have been subjected have further compromised the research effort. In order to obtain new data and clarify understanding of the nature of the mounds, a test excavation was carried out on one such structure. The selected mound, designated MS1, is approximately 16 by 20 metres in area and 2 metres high and lies about 100 metres south of the moat, outside the settlement. The northeast quadrant of the mound, about 20 percent of the Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

66

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

area, was excavated by the authors between the 12th and 26th June 2009, while the remainder of the excavation was conducted under the supervision of the Fine Arts Department, Lopburi during August and September 2009.5 The mound itself is surrounded by eight limestone standing stones that lie flat at its edge. Reliable reports from local villagers stated that the stones were still in situ and standing around the mound until some 30 years ago. With the increase in agricultural activity over the last few decades, the stones were removed and placed flat on the mound where they remain to this day. The test excavation revealed evidence of Dvaravati pottery, fingermarked bricks consistent with those found at other Dvaravati period sites, Dvaravati-style stucco and a possible terracotta stupa finial. The mound was clearly a monument of some kind; the superstructure has, however, not survived intact. Instead there is a clear stratigraphical layer containing brick and stucco, most likely representing where the monument had subsided. The discovery of large amounts of brick suggests that the superstructure would have been built of this material and faced with stucco. This would be consistent with architectural design from the Dvaravati period. The stucco style can be classified as late Dvaravati and therefore points to a date of the 10th to 12th centuries. Further parts of a terracotta stupa finial were discovered in the Fine Arts Department excavation. From the evidence, the monument appears to have been a stupa of some kind. Some of the most surprising discoveries during the course of both excavations, however, were the human burials at the foundation level of the monument. Over 50 inhumations were discovered in total throughout the entire area of the monument; however, they do not appear to extend outside of its boundary. Stratigraphically, the burials were found directly under the layer containing the remains of the monument proper. The layer itself is about 1 metre in depth; the burials were placed at different levels within it. The question therefore arises whether the burials predate the construction of the monument; not only are they located in a separate stratigraphic layer, but also no Dvaravati material was found within the layer of the burials themselves. However, since there is no evidence of prehistoric occupation at the site, the working hypothesis continues to be that the burials date to the Dvaravati period. The burials can be divided into three types: extended burials, “flex” burials and what may be termed “bag” burials (figure 5). Bag burial consists of interment of the individual corpse at the time of death within a bag or sack. As a result, when this type of inhumation is unearthed, the body is usually discovered The full site report of the Fine Arts Department excavations will be published by the Lopburi office of the Fine Arts Department in Thai language in due course. Future research at the site is planned by the present authors including further survey work, excavations and cultural resource management issues. 5

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

67

in a crouched position, the spine noticeably curved and the head above either the rib cage or the femurs. This type of burial has been encountered at a number of sites in central Thailand and in certain cases fragments of the bag still survive.6 No discernable pattern is initially visible among the burials. All three types have been found alongside each other at varying heights within the layer. There seems to be no division between male and females or adults and children. Initial analysis of the burials shows that both males and females as well as children were placed alongside each other in extended, flex and bag burials. Further detailed analysis of the remains should help clarify the issues. Significantly, grave goods are absent. Burials in Iron Age sites in central Thailand are usually rich in grave goods. Burials found at Pong Manao in Lopburi, for example, were accompanied by a plethora of ceramic vessels, iron tools, and glass and shell beads (Natapintu 2002). Those at Ban Don Ta Phet in Kanchanaburi province possessed vast amounts of beads and some remarkable, high-tin bronze vessels (Glover 1990). At Dong Mae Nang Muang, on the other hand, no pottery or beads were found; in a number of burials, metal objects (some may be iron, others are bronze) measuring about 10 centimetres in length were found close to the cranium. No other associated finds were encountered. At the northeast section of the mound, a line of laterite blocks was discovered running north–south and turning east–west along the perimeter, at the same level as the uppermost burials. Initially it was thought to be the foundation wall of the structure. Two factors argue against that, however. Firstly, the line of blocks does not continue around the entire mound, only in the northeast section. Secondly, the blocks are considered too small to support the weight of a monument such as that envisioned here. Interpreting the date and precise nature of the burials is problematic due to the absence of grave goods and unavailability of comparative data. It is generally assumed that with the advent of Buddhism, cremation became the preferred form of burial. Research into Dvaravati archaeology has therefore focused primarily on site stratigraphy and analysis of monuments and earthen works. If Dvaravati cemeteries do exist, none has been discovered or excavated to date. Recent research from the site of Pong Tuk in Kanchanaburi province, where Coedès’s and Quaritch Wales’s excavations are being re-evaluated, has rev ealed the existence of inhumation burials in the vicinity of four Dvaravati-period structures, two of which are stupas while another may be a vihara (Clarke, forthcoming 2010). Whether the burials are Iron Age or contemporary with the monument, and thus Dvaravati period in date, is still unclear. Surapol Natapintu, personal communication.

6

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

68

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

Two interpretations seem possible for the burials at MS1. The first is that the monument was built over a pre-existing burial ground. If that is the case, the question arises as to what period do the burials date from and why the almost complete absence of grave goods, a characteristic at odds with every other prehistoric cemetery excavated within Thailand. Perhaps the burials therefore date to the Dvaravati period. If so, perhaps the custom was to bury the dead without grave goods of any kind. The second possibility is that the burials are what can be termed “foundation burials”. Several contemporary sites in Burma (Moore 2007, 173– 175) provide precedents whereby individuals were buried in urns beneath the foundation of Buddhist monuments and inside and outside the walls of settlements such as Halin and Sri Ksetra, presumably as part of the ritual to consecrate the space. If that is the case, the number of burials utilized is noteworthy as it would reflect a considerable number of deceased being incorporated in the ritual. A number of avenues of future research may help to clarify the exact nature of the mound and its inhumations. First of all, a thorough analysis of the skeletal remains from both excavations needs to be undertaken. 7 Secondly, comparisons with other monuments need to be made. At many excavation sites of Dvaravati monuments, the superstructure remains to a certain extent intact. In the majority of such cases the foundations of the monuments have not been excavated. Possibly they too possess burials that remain undiscovered. Another possibility to explore is further excavation of the earthen mounds at Dong Mae Nang Muang to ascertain whether burials were placed at the foundation level, as the surviving notes from the 1967 excavations seem to suggest. Such investigations would help determine whether the inhumations at MS1 were an isolated incident or part of a wider tradition, perhaps existing both at Dong Mae Nang Muang and other Dvaravati sites. The standing stones placed around MS1 are most likely sema (figure 6). MS1 itself seems clearly to have been a religious structure, possibly a stupa, but its exact nature eludes us because of the absence of a surviving superstructure. Sema are usually placed around ubosot; notwithstanding, a number of examples of Dvaravati-period sema have been set up around stupa in northeast Thailand (Murphy, forthcoming 2010). Typologically, the stones from Dong Mae Nang Muang differ in material from those in the Khorat Plateau and may be classified as unfashioned sema. In addition their placement around a Buddhist monument strongly indicates the possibility that they functioned as sema. Budget and financing allowing, the authors of this article plan to carry out radiocarbon (C14) and thermoluminescence dating on the excavated material. That should lead to more conclusive results in terms of dating of the burials and the mound itself. 7

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

69

Archaeological excavations often set out to answer specific research questions but end up producing more questions than answers. Such is the case with MS1, to a certain extent. While new sets of questions are welcome and can help direct future Dvaravati research, some answers have already resulted. For one, it is clear that the earthen mounds at Dong Mae Nang Muang are Buddhist monuments of one kind or another, constructed of brick and faced with elaborately decorated stucco work. The burials beneath the monument provide a vital window into Dvaravati burial customs and should alert archaeologists to the possibility that inhumation burials were still practiced to some extent during that period. Future research at the Dong Mae Nang Muang site will hopefully resolve some of the outstanding questions about monument MS1.

Dong Mae Nang Muang as a Regional Centre

The evidence presented here shows clearly that Dong Mae Nang Muang was an important regional centre in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin. Its location on the Ping and Nan tributaries opened it to communication with other sites in the area such as Khaogralone, Chansen, Thap Chumpon, U-Trapao and Kok Mai Den. Khaogralone, for instance, was also located on a tributary of the Ping River thus facilitating access with Dong Mae Nang Muang. The Ping and Nan rivers in turn join to create the Chao Phraya River with the confluence located at Pak Nam Po, Muang district, Nakorn Sawan. Dong Mae Nang Muang, with its direct access to those major waterways should therefore be considered a regional centre within the Upper Chao Phraya Basin. From an economic and commercial point of view, this site can be considered as a trade centre. Excavations have revealed Chinese Northern Song ware, green-glazed Angkor-period stoneware, Persian ware, and glass and semiprecious stone beads. None of those products was manufactured locally; all were obtained through trade connections with sites along the coast or those plugged in to the maritime network. The excavations in 2009 unearthed Persian ware in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin for the first time. Before then, Persian ware had only ever been discovered at Dvaravati settlements in the Lower Chao Phraya Basin close to the coast. The discovery of Persian ware along with the other imported goods further emphasises the active role Dong Mae Nang Muang played in trade and commerce during the Dvaravati period. The earthenware pottery record also shows close connections with sites in the Chi and Mun river systems of northeast Thailand. It appears therefore that Dong Mae Nang Muang was interacting with both the northeast and Lower Chao Phraya Basin. Dong Mae Nang Muang has a just-below-average Dvaravati site size of approximately 40 hectares.8 Inscription K966 states that by the 12th century the population numbered 2,012 people. The reliability of that figure, however, is Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

70

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

difficult to ascertain. Caution must be exercised in considering inscriptions of this nature, as it is not clear whether that figure referred only to the people living inside the site or included those in the surrounding hinterland as well. The presence of the term Kamaraten Jagat in the inscription also reflects Khmer presence at the settlement in the 12th century CE and the existence of a clearly stratified, hierarchical societal structure. Green-glazed Angkor-period stoneware, which is regarded as a local Khmer ceramic and rarely exported (Thammapreechakorn 2010), also indicates growing Khmer influence from the 10th century onwards. The absence of Khmer monumental architecture, however, suggests that perhaps the Khmer influence was not as wholescale as it was at such other sites as Lopburi or Phimai. Dong Mae Nang Muang also clearly functioned as an important religious settlement. Current evidence indicates the presence of Buddhism at the site from circa the 9th century onwards, while there is no indication of Hinduism such as is found at Sri Thep, Muang Sri Mahasot and other Dvaravati sites. The 15 earthen mounds found throughout the site indicate that there were religious monuments both inside and outside the moat. Excavations revealed that MS1 was likely to be a stupa. Chedi No. 5 located at the centre of the site, with a diameter of over 40 metres, was clearly a large religious monument of some kind, once again most probably a large-scale stupa. Unfortunately the widespread looting and the loss of the 1967 site report make it difficult to form a complete picture of what these monuments may have looked like. Comparisons with stupas uncovered at Kok Mai Den and the discovery of fired brick and stucco at MS1 suggest that they had brick superstructures faced with stucco in a style similar to those found at such sites as Nakorn Pathom, Ku Bua and U-Thong. The numerous votive tablets, bronze Buddha images and stone relief Buddha images found at the site also indicate that the Dvaravati style of art, so prevalent among the religious objects of this period, was the prevailing aesthetic at Dong Mae Nang Muang. Roughly hewn limestone sema stones were set up around its religious monuments suggesting links with the Dvaravati culture present in northeast Thailand. The site of Dong Mae Nang Muang, situated at a key geographic location in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin, developed over its 300-year life span into an important economic, political and religious settlement with considerable influence over its immediate hinterland. In conclusion, the results of research conducted at Dong Mae Nang Muang over the past six decades allow for a preliminary synthesis of the available information that highlights a number of features about the settlement. See Mudar (1999) for a survey and comparison of Dvaravati settlement sizes

8

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

71

Its geographic location permitted it to utilise and perhaps control certain waterways. The pottery evidence, in particular Persian ware, highlights the extent of its economic and trade activity. Evidence from the excavated test pits suggests that the main occupancy of the site spanned the late Dvaravati period, from circa the 10th to 12th centuries. The religious monuments and artefacts discovered at the site illustrate a flourishing Buddhist community while Inscription K966 provides a glimpse of the social and political life of the 12th century. The work to date allows for an increasingly clear picture to be drawn, yet much research remains to be done in order to resolve a number of outstanding issues and questions. Nonetheless, it is clear that the site of Dong Mae Nang Muang was part of a larger, vibrant Dvaravati culture existing in the Lower and Upper Chao Phraya basins of central Thailand that consisted of settlements actively trading and communicating with each other, not just in terms of commercial transactions but also with regard to religious beliefs and aesthetic modes. Dong Mae Nang Muang, therefore, was truly an ancient gateway city in the Upper Chao Phraya Basin.

Acknowledgments

The authors would like to thank, first of all, the staff of Dta Sung

sub-district office for providing the funding and support for this research; and our respective academic supervisors, Professor Phasook Indrawooth of Silpakorn University, Bangkok and Dr. Elizabeth Moore of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London. Many thanks also go to Ajarn Surapol Natapintu; the Fine Arts Department, Lopburi; the Archaeology Department, Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University; Ajarn Pariwat Thammapreechakorn and Louise Cort for sharing their ceramic expertise particularly with regard to Chinese, Persian and green-glazed Angkor-period stoneware; Associate Professor Prasit Eurtrakoolwit and Thanongsak Lerdpipatworakul for the bone analysis; and James Lankton for his assistance with the glass analysis. Thanks also go to Suchaya Euraripan, Khanittha Alangkorn and Panuwat Eursaman for carrying out the extremely necessary and sometimes thankless task of finds processing, particularly with regard to the large amounts of pottery and animal bone collected and analysed; and to Supachok Kerdsri for his continuous help throughout the survey work and excavations. Pimchanok Pongkasetkan would also like to thank her family for all their love and support throughout the project. Last but not least, the authors would like to extend thanks to the villagers of Dong Mae Nang Muang and all those who volunteered their time, sweat and effort in the excavations.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

72

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

References

Bellina, B. and P. Silapanth, 2006. Khao Sam Kaeo and the Upper Thai Peninsula: Understanding the mechanism of early trans-Asiatic trade

and cultural exchange. In E. A. Bacus, I. C. Glover and V. C. Pigott (eds.), Uncovering Southeast Asia’s Past – Selected papers from the Tenth Biennial Conference of the European Association of Southeast Asian Archaeologists, 379–392. Singapore: National University Press. Bronson, B., 1976. Excavations at Chansen and the Cultural Chronology of Protohistoric Central Thailand. Dissertation, University of Pennsylvania. Clarke, W., forthcoming 2010. The skeletons of P’ong Tuk: A preliminary consideration of human remains in Dvaravati ritual contexts. In Proceedings of the 19th Indo-Pacific Prehistory Association Congress, November 29th – December 5th, 2009. Hanoi: Vietnam Academy of Social Sciences. Coedès, G., 1961. Les expressions vrah kamraten an et kamraten jagat en vieux khmer, The Adyar Library Bulletin, No. 25 (1–4), 447–460. Jubilee Vol. Darith, E. et al., 2008. New data on Khmer kiln sites. In E. A. Bacus, I. C. Glover and P. Sharrock (eds.), Interpreting Southeast Asia’s Past, Volume 2: Monument, Image and Text. Singapore: National University Press. Glover, I. C., 1990. Ban Don Ta Phet: The 1984–85 excavation. In I. C. Glover and E. A. Glover (eds.), Southeast Asian Archaeology 1986. British Archaeological Reports S-521, 139–183. Oxford: BAR. Indrawooth, P., 1985. Index Pottery of Dvaravati Period. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Silpakorn University. Jacques, C., 1999. Angkor. Cologne: Könemann. Krairiksh, P., 1985. Boranwatthu pob ti changwat Nakorn Sawan gon budhasatawat ti sibgao [archaeological evidence found at Nakorn Sawan before 14th century CE]. In Suporn Ocharoen (ed.), Nakorn Sawan rath gueng glang: rai-ngan sammana prawatisat lae wattanatham tongtin changwat Nakorn Sawan [Nakorn Sawan rath gueng glang: seminar proceedings on the history and culture of the region of Nakorn Sawan province]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Rajaphat Nakorn Sawan University. Lankton, J. W. et al., 2008. Glass from Khao Sam Kaeo: Transferred technology for an early Southeast Asian exchange network, Bulletin de l’É cole française d’Extrême-Orient, Vol. 93. Moore, E., 2007. Early Landscapes of Myanmar. Bangkok: River Books. Mudar, K., 1999. How many Dvaravati kingdoms? Locational analysis of first millennium A. D. moated settlements in central Thailand, Journal of Anthropological Archaeology, Vol. 18, No. 1, 1–28. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Fifty Years of Archaeological Research at Dong mae nang muang

73

Murphy, S. A., forthcoming 2010. The distribution of sema stones throughout the Khorat Plateau during the Dvaravati period. In Proceedings of the 12th International Conference of the European Association of Southeast Asian Archaeologists (EurASEAA12), Leiden, The Netherlands, 1–5 September 2008. Leiden, The Netherlands: International Institute for Asian Studies. Natapintu, S., 2002. Wattanatham gon prawatisat nai prathet thai [prehistoric culture in Thailand], Borankadi lae prawatisat nai prathet thai [archaeology and history in Thailand]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Archaeology Department, Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University. Ocharoen, S. (ed.), 1985. Nakorn Sawan rath gueng glang: rai-ngan sammana prawatisat lae wattanatham tongtin changwat Nakorn Sawan [Nakorn Sawan rath gueng glang: seminar proceedings on the history and culture of the region of Nakorn Sawan province]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Rajaphat Nakorn Sawan University. Phongsabutr, P., 2534 [1991]. Phumilaksana prathet thai [illustrated landforms of Thailand]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Chulalongkorn University. Rajaphat Nakorn Sawan University, Department of Art and Culture 1999. Raingan kronggan garnsuksa samruat khormun peu garn wangpaen garnjudgarn lae pragad khet anuruk sing waed lom silpagum ban Dong Mae Nang Muang, Nakorn Sawan [report of survey work project for the planning of cultural environment conservation at Ban Dong Mae Nang Muang, Nakorn Sawan]. (In Thai.) Sampaothip, N., 1993. Khao Galon: Archaeology for the public. In Muang Boran, Vol. II (April–June), 95–109. (In Thai.) Sarikkabutra, P., 1980. Primitive technology. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Silpakorn University. Thailand, Government of; Fine Arts Department, 2000. Rai-ngan beuang ton garn khutkon muang boran Kok Mai Den gon garn khut lok kumuang lae prubprung kamphaengmuang lae boransathan lae prubprung bhumithad muang boran Kok Mai Den ampore Phayuha Khiri changwat Nakorn Sawan [preliminary report of the moat, rampart, and monument excavation before the landscape management of the ancient settlement of Kok Mai Den, Phayuhagiri district, Nakorn Sawan province]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Archaeology Office and National Museum, Fine Arts Department. Thailand, Government of; Fine Arts Department, 2002. Rai-ngan beuang ton garn boorana muang boran Kok Mai Den ampore Phayuha Khiri changwat Nakorn Sawan [restoration report of the ancient settlement of Kok Mai Den, Phayuhagiri district, Nakorn Sawan province]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Archaeology Office and National Museum, Fine Arts Department. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

74

Stephen A. Murphy and Pimchanok Pongkasetkan

Thailand, Government of; Prime Minister’s Office, Kanagamagan jud pim ekasan tang prawatisat wattanatham lae borankadi, 2508 [1965]. Prachum sila chareuk pahk tee sam [inscriptions part 3]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Prime Minister’s Office. Thammapreechakorn, P., 2010. Development of Khmer ceramics in the Angkorean period. In D. F. Rooney, Khmer Ceramics: Beauty and Meaning. Bangkok: River Books. Vallibhotama, M., 1978. Sri Dharmasokaraja, Thalang garn prawatisat ekasan borankadi, Year 12, Vol. 1, January–June. (In Thai.) Vallibhotama, M., 1985. Buntuek khormoon rai-ngan garn kutkon kuttaeng lae sumruat ti Dong Mae Nang Muang, tambon Bang Ta ngai, ampore Banpotpisai, changwat Nakorn Sawan [notes of the excavation and survey work report of Dong Mae Nang Muang, Bang Ta Ngai subdistrict, Banpotpisai district, Nakorn Sawan province]. In Suporn Ocharoen (ed.), Nakorn Sawan rath gueng glang: rai-ngan sammana prawatisat lae wattanatham tongtin changwat Nakorn Sawan [Nakorn Sawan rath gueng glang: seminar proceedings on the history and culture of the region of Nakorn Sawan province]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Rajaphat Nakorn Sawan University. Veeraprajuk, K., 1983. Pop pasah thai nai jareuk gorn mee laiseutai [the discovery of Thai language in a pre-Sukhothai inscription], Silpakorn No. 27 (November), 76–83. (In Thai.) Vickery, M., 1998. Society, Economics, and Politics in Pre-Angkor Cambodia: The 7th–8th Centuries. Tokyo: Centre for East Asian Cultural Studies for UNESCO, The Toyo Bunko. Wales, H. G. Q., 1965. Muang Bon, a town of northern Dvaravati, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. LIII, Part I. Wales, H. G. Q., 1969. Dvaravati: The Earliest Kingdom of Siam (6th to 11th century A. D.). London: Bernard Quaritch Ltd. Wilaikeo, C. (ed.), 2534 [1991]. The Ancient Town of U-Tra Pao. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Fine Arts Department. Woodward, H., 2005. The Art and Architecture of Thailand: From Prehistoric Times through the Thirteenth Century. Leiden and Boston: Brill. Wyatt, D. (trans.), 1975. The Crystal Sands: The Chronicle of Nagara Sri Dharmaraja. Southeast Asia Program, Data Paper 98. Ithaca: Cornell University. Yupho, D., 2508 [1965]. Borannawatthu samai Dvaravati hang mai lae rai-ngan garn khutkon borannawatthusathan na ban Kok Mai Den ampore Phayuha Khiri changwat Nakorn Sawan [recently discovered Dvaravati archaeological evidence and site report of Ban Kok Mai Den, Phayuhagiri district, Nakorn Sawan province]. (In Thai.) Bangkok: Fine Arts Department. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

75

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom Nicolas Revire Wat Phra Men, an important temple site at Nakhon Pathom in the central plains of Thailand from around the 7th to 8th centuries CE, is re-examined for the diverse conclusions that can be drawn from iconographical study of its Buddha images. Four or five colossal images, seated in the so-called “European fashion”, are reputed to have originated here although they are today displayed in different temples and museums. The history of the discoveries and restorations at the site is reviewed. While the precise nature and original appearance of the monument remain a mystery, the iconographical significance of the images lies in different possible interpretations according to the Buddhist traditions that were practiced here. The nature of Buddhism in the Dvāravatī period was evidently very heterogeneous; esoteric forms of Mahāyāna Buddhism may have evolved at Wat Phra Men in Theravāda guise. The results of this re-examination should hold implications for other Buddhist sites in Nakhon Pathom and neighboring provinces.

The importance of Nakhon Pathom in the early history of Thailand is well recognized because of the large number of archeological remains found there: ruins of stūpa or caitya foundations, stone and bronze sculptures, and clay and stucco artifacts, among other items (figure 1). How much is really known about the iconography of its art? While new archeological discoveries have been made1 and excavations are being carried out in central Thailand, art historians still need to rely on earlier studies and museum collections, not only for reference material but also in reconsidering some of what has been found and has fallen, for the most part, into oblivion. Unfortunately a large number of Buddhist artifacts in museum collections in Thailand lack information about their archeological context that is necessary in building an understanding of their real place and function in a religious complex and culture. There are some rare exceptions, however, Wat Phra Men being a good example. The emblematic site of Nakhon Pathom is essential for the study of the archeology of Dvāravatī because it has provided abundant material and is well The substance of this article was presented at the First International Dvāravatī Symposium, held at the National Museum, Bangkok on 3 September 2009. The article summarizes the author’s thesis submitted in June 2008 in partial fulfillment of his master’s degree program at Université Paris 3–Sorbonne nouvelle. 1 For a recent overview of Dvāravatī research and archeological discoveries, see Skilling (2003); Phasook (2004); also Baptiste and Zéphir (2009). Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

76

Nicolas Revire

documented in Western languages and Thai (Dupont 1959; Tri 1939; Sen 2006; Revire 2008; Hennequin 2009a). Of significant value is the pioneering work by the French archeologist Pierre Dupont and his team. Some problems still linger with this site, however; uncertainty persists about the precise nature and appearance of the monument, as well as the exact provenance, dating and iconographic significance of the four or five colossal Buddha images said to have come from here. In the spirit of reassessing existing scholarship, this article reviews extant knowledge about Wat Phra Men, re-evaluates the provenance and iconography of the fine Buddha images reputed to have come from here and, finally, attempts an analysis of their original arrangement—focusing on their iconography in relation with the larger religious and artistic contexts of Dvāravatī and its neighboring Buddhist cultures. The iconology of the material from Wat Phra Men could be, if not completely resolved or reconstituted, at least interpreted in a radically different way depending on which Buddhist traditions are considered. Beyond the common Theravāda conventions, the Mantrayāna or mantranaya2 also deserves attention, since it grew significantly during the 7th and 8th centuries CE across South and Southeast Asia, including perhaps in what today constitutes central Thailand. Study of the Site Excavations by Pierre Dupont Wat Phra Men in Nakhon Pathom was excavated for the first time by Pierre Dupont and his team during two missions in 1939 and 1940, before the Second World War put an end to those campaigns. He had aimed at constructing a picture of the architectural remains of Dvāravatī and developing a methodological framework for the study of the abundant Buddhist sculpture—which Dupont then labeled as “indo-mône”—already unearthed but deprived of any archeological context. Some Buddha fragments seated in the so-called “European fashion” (bhadrāsana)3 were reported to have been found and removed from the site prior to the excavations. In addition, the presence of a vast hillock at the site signaled the possibility of further discoveries.4 Early Indian and Tibetan exegetes never mentioned the Vajrayāna or Mantrayāna but only spoke of the mantranaya modes of practices within Mahāyāna (Hodge 1994, 58). 3 What scholars once referred to as pralambapādāsana. See Lokesh Chandra’s objection to Cooramaswamy’s invention in his foreword to Kim’s The Future Buddha Maitreya (1997, vi); also Revire (2008, 6–7 and forthcoming). 4 Two tumuli at the site were pointed out to Dupont at the time of his investigation of the Nakhon Pathom area. The construction of a road in the vicinity had cut one of the two tumuli and had revealed fragments of Buddhas seated in “European fashion” (1937, 689). 2

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

77

The excavations of Wat Phra Men thus inaugurated the strictly archeological work of the École française d’Extrême-Orient in Thailand. In contrast with the repair work and anastylosis of the Khmer monuments, the excavations here were different because the monument was deeply buried. Dupont (1959, 27)5 describes the general composition of Wat Phra Men after his excavations as follows (figure 2): The monument of Wat P’ra Men is built out of bricks and consists primarily of: - A full square central core made of bricks; - A square gallery surrounding the central core; - An intermediate space located between the gallery and the external enclosure, corresponding to a part of the building perhaps occupied by a terrace; - An external facing which comprises three successive stages, of square plan, supported by a broad plinth and one or two platforms. Dupont noticed three different stages of construction or renovation at Wat Phra Men. Basically, state III, the most recent, was an enlarged and indented version of the original square basement (states I and II) that bore different moldings and two lateral secondary projections on each face (1959, 32–42; Piriya 1975, 285–286). From the ground plan it is not clear whether the circumambulating gallery and the 16 “cave-like niches” around the central structure—the functions of which remain to be elucidated—were later additions or part of the original plan. Moreover, Dupont thought that four colossal seated Buddha images had been installed against the central core at the four cardinal directions. What was “Wat Phra Men”? The first questions to address are of paramount importance before any iconographic conclusions can be drawn: what kind of monument was Wat Phra Men and what functions did it serve? While there may be no definitive answers, given the poor condition of the monument and since no dedicatory inscriptions have been found in situ,6 comparisons with a few architectural examples from the neighboring regions may be instructive. All translations from the French are the present author’s. For another English translation of Dupont, see Sen (2006, 19). Sen’s publication has been reviewed by Woodward (2008). 6 A fragment of a slab with two faces inscribed in old Mon and dated paleographically to the 7th century CE was found at Wat Pho Rang, in the neighborhood, that records a donation to a Buddhist monastery (Cœdès 1952, 30–31). 5

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

78

Nicolas Revire

Sadly enough, almost nothing remains today of Wat Phra Men except a mass of bricks. As in the case of Chedi Chula Prathon, the superstructure has long collapsed and its original appearance is unknown. Consequently, the question of its original shape has raised much speculation and discussion among scholars, including Dupont and his Thai counterparts.7 Around the central core, which Dupont called the “massif central”, a gallery was probably added during state III which was undoubtedly used for the Buddhist rite of circumambulation (pradakṣiṇa). This gallery appears to have been intersected on the four sides by axial passages that were probably meant to lead ascending devotees from the external stairways to the central core against which presumably four colossal Buddhas seated with legs pendant were installed. On this ground Dupont attempted comparisons with the Ānanda temple in Pagān or with the central sanctuary of Pahāṛpur in what is today Bangladesh.8 However, according to Boisselier, those comparative studies are not very convincing and even doubtful (1968, 49–51). An intermediate space between the surrounding gallery and the external stairways raises problems of interpretation regarding the access. Pichard wonders whether the lateral projections could not abut on “false doors”. Consequently he concludes: “if an analogy should be sought, it would rather be found with the angle pavilions in Angkorean architecture” (1999, 166). This comparison with Khmer architecture is interesting because Boisselier also discussed traces of later additions, or Khmer restorations, at Wat Phra Men, which he set in relation with the last stage (state III) of the monument. Of particular interest for Boisselier was the presence of an ogival step (“en accolade”) at each axial projection, hitherto unknown in the art of Dvāravatī but characteristic of Khmer architecture. “This addition may provide an explanation for the discovery of P’ra Pim [clay tablets] belonging to the ‘third group’ (standard Khmer, Mahāyānist tradition) during the excavation of the monument” (1965, 140). Because of this evidence, Boisselier thought that state III of the monument could date from the late 12th century during the reign of King Jayavarman VII in Angkor, which is questionable. Indeed, Boisselier seems to contradict himself here since a closer look at the type of the ogival steps from Wat Phra Men (Dupont’s fig. A) relates them more appropriately to the Prasat Prei

From the ground plan it is clear that the base of the central core was once a solid square block. It may well have supported a circular dome on top although that cannot be substantiated from any visual remains (Dupont 1959, 54). Tri Amatyakul, who collaborated with Dupont in 1939, seemed to have been more convinced of a circular superstructure; that remains pure hypothesis (Tri 1939; Hennequin 2009a, 50, 52, 79 n. 52, 82 n. 66). For the case of the Chedi Chula Prathon, see Piriya (1975, 84–88). 8 In a private communication, Pichard now sees greater affinities with the stūpa no. 1493 or Myinpya-gu in Pagān (1995, vol. 6, 84–88). For a recent discussion on Pahāṛpur and similar structures in Bangladesh, see Samuel (2002). 7

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

79

Chek, a Prei-Kmeng–style monument in Cambodia, of circa 635 to 700 (1966, 195).9 In any case, the rather late archeological material found in situ—the clay tablets—also raises the question of longevity and occupation of such a site as Wat Phra Men and its subsequent phase of abandonment. However, is it really necessary to look to either Angkorean architecture or later edifices for any precedent at Wat Phra Men?10 Distinct features reported by Dupont at Wat Phra Men—a somewhat “cruciform”11 aspect and an enclosed circumambulating gallery around the central core at state III (1959, 129, 135)—enable parallels to be drawn with neighboring structures.12 Many “cruciform” temples—albeit different in size and shape—were constructed throughout the southern seas by the 6th to the 8th centuries. JacqHergoualc’h’s thorough study of the monuments in the Malay Peninsula has revealed a number of such structures (e. g., 2002, 171–173, 204; docs. 18, 23, 24; figs. 63, 87). Because of a similar presence of a gallery for circumambulation at BJ3 site near Yarang, Woodward recently suggested an analogy with Wat Phra Men13 (2003, 82 and 2008, 80). Stronger affiliations might be suggested for Blandongan temple, a monument recently excavated at Batujaya, western Java, which shows striking similarities not only with its ground plan but also with the archeological material found there (Manguin and Indrajaya 2006, 247–250; figs. 23.3, 23.6).14 Generally speaking, several “Dvāravatī” motifs and patterns in architecture and sculpture were also common in 7th century Cambodia. See Brown (1996, 157–158 and 169–174); also Hennequin (2009a, 204–215). Furthermore, the evidence of the free-standing lions at Wat Phra Men led Woodward to suggest a connection with Sambor C1 of the late 8th century (2008, 80). 10 The architect Pinna Indorf recently communicated to the present author privately that “the notions of form generation found at Wat Phra Men are fundamentally part of the Indian tradition as a whole [because of the] expansion of the four directions (radial symmetry based on four and multiples), the five-square order, use of bhadra (projections at mid-points), karna (projections at corners) and pratibhadra (projections at intermediate points) sometimes very pronounced sometimes not, and the rhythmic reticulation of form”. 11 Both Pichard and Indorf agree that the term “cruciform” which is common in architectural description is rather misleading and exaggerated in this case. The base at Wat Phra Men is roughly square with lateral projections. 12 The important question of how and when the “cruciform” plan developed in Asia goes far beyond the scope of this article. There is no absolute need to look “inside” such prototypes. 13 Erroneously labeled in one instance as “BJ 13” (Woodward 2003, 62). 14 Even though not a single statue has been found in Batujaya, other evidence points towards the practice of Mahāyāna Buddhism. Clay tablets, stylistically dated to circa the 7th century, and Buddhist mantras inscribed on terracotta and gold were found during the restoration program. The clay tablets found there follow the same iconography as a type found in Nakhon Pathom and elsewhere in the Peninsula. For Thailand see Cœdès (1927, 7–11 pl. II), Pattaratorn (1997, 22–23); for Burma see Moore (2007, 198); for Campā see Baptiste and Zéphir (2005, 69, fig. 4). They all seem to belong to a Southeast Asian “regional type” of the 7th century rather than just a Mon-Dvāravatī type (Skilling 2009, 112). The wide diffusion of such tablets can provide evidence of contacts between Nakhon Pathom and neighboring regions by land or sea routes. 9

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

80

Nicolas Revire

This assertion, however, awaits further comparative analysis and detailed scientific reports. These different parallels make it possible to propose a relative date for Wat Phra Men in the late 7th or early 8th century, or even earlier; the iconographic study of the statuary allegedly found there would seem to confirm that.15 Before this material is analyzed, the exact nature and role of the monument in ancient “Nakhon Pathom” should be examined. As is apparent from the modern names, the main distinction between Wat Phra Men and Chedi Chula Prathon, for instance, is that the former is not perceived today as having been a caitya (or a chedi in Thai), that is a “memorial” to the Buddha, a king or important saints or events, but as something else.16 So what else could it be? Most people and scholars, including Dupont, would assume that it must have been a stūpa.17 This is very likely but remains hypothetical given that its original appearance is unknown and that no relics were found during the excavations.18 Could it have rather been a shrine with a central sanctuary (pratimagṛha) on its upper story dedicated to some important deity or Buddhist icon? A clear answer is difficult to divine from what remains in situ but this hypothesis should not be dismissed.19 Alternatively, as a compromise, Thorough analysis of these Buddha images (Revire 2008) points toward a date close to the last decades of the 7th century or early in the 8th century. By extension, Wat Phra Men can be fairly dated. Pierre Baptiste recently proposed a 9th-century date or even later for these Buddhas; his argument is, however, not very convincing (2009, 223 and fig. 5 on p. 221). 16 See Santi (2009) for a recent study of chedi structures in the art of Dvāravatī. As could be expected from his rather arbitrary classification, the author does not discuss Wat Phra Men at all. 17 The term stūpa indicates any in-filled structure, like that at Wat Phra Men, which is supposed to contain collected material, textual or corporal relics of the Buddha or other high dignitaries. The distinction is clear between them and other structures generally called caitya or simply commemorative monuments having no relics. See Bareau (2005, 14); also Woodward (1993, 76–77). 18 Dupont reported that a pit, where some traces of gold remained, and some galleries had been dug at an unknown date by treasure seekers aiming at the main foundation deposit of what they believed was a stūpa (1959, 28). Moreover, many clay tablets, all broken, were found with the verse “ye dhammā” inscribed at the bottom in nearly correct Pāli (1959, 47–49 figs. 34–40). Note that these tablets show a central Buddha seated in meditation, not with legs pendant as Dupont has mislabeled it (1959, 28). Should these inscribed tablets be accepted as evidence of the empowering or consecrating ceremony of the stūpa (Skilling 2009, 108)? In the Indo–Tibetan tradition, such consecration rituals infusing the “ye dhammā” verse in a stūpa or a Buddha image is common practice (Bentor 1996). 19 Something comparable exists elsewhere in the Buddhist world. Samyé, Tibet’s first monastery (constructed and consecrated in 779), consists of a main three-story temple which reflects the central importance of Vairocana as a central deity on the second and third floor (Weinberger 2010, 140-141). The present author has spotted a similar arrangement in a pagoda, near Famen, China, with a Sarvavid Vairocana enshrined atop the shaft structure, surrounded by the four Jinas on the lower ground. Albeit later for the purpose, such a layout is also seen with the bronze “votive stūpas” of Nāgapaṭṭinam (Ramachandran, 1965, 62, pl. XVI). Similarly, Kya-zin-hpaya, a story temple in Pagān (no. 1219), has four Buddhas seated back to back in its upper-shrine (Pichard 1995, vol. 5, 113–118). 15

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

81

Wat Phra Men could be considered as a kind of stūpa-shrine or a stūpa-prāsāda which served both purposes of venerating some relics and worshipping Buddha images insides niches or chapels. That might possibly be what Dupont had in mind when he used the term stūpa (1959, 133–134). There could well be other possibilities and symbolic interpretations of the monument such as a “mountain-temple” or Mount Meru/Sumeru (“Phra Men” or “Phra Sumen” in Thai), the cosmic mountain and abode of the gods—and Vairocana according to certain Buddhist tantric traditions.20 It could also have served a maṇḍalalike symbolism which remains to be determined (see note, infra), as in the case of Borobudur or Pahāṛpur.21 In any case, these interpretations do not need to be perceived as mutually exclusive because the stūpa in fact may well imply all those symbolisms simultaneously and such could be the case for Wat Phra Men. So this article carries the conditional assumption that Wat Phra Men was remodeled in its final stage as a kind of stūpa-prāsāda, the stūpa being the core form, embellished with a gallery and articulations of stories with projections or bhadra, which in the prāsāda model are seen as doors and chambers. As regards location, Wat Phra Men is, interestingly, rather remote compared to Phra Prathon Chedi at the center of the old city (figure 1). Piriya Krairiksh explains the fact by possible “decentralization” that might have occurred during the 7th century, Nakhon Pathom’s golden age, and migration of the population beyond the moats and the building of new monuments on the city periphery, with Wat Phra Men and Phra Pathom Chedi among them (1975, 173). Another interpretation could be some sort of ritual or religious shift. Perhaps there was a need at the time for a new type of complex or at least a new location for it outside the city. Wat Phra Men could well have sheltered monastic communities known as the “forest tradition” (araññavāsī) in search of relatively isolated places.22 The term wat in Thailand denotes a Buddhist monastery and temple within a complex. Hence Wat Phra Men could originally have occupied more extensive grounds than just the small area in

The location of the awakening and teaching of Vairocana in various tantras is more specifically the abode of Akaṇiṣṭha, above Mount Meru. 21 Extensive literature and interpretations exist on the monument of Borobudur, seen by some as a stūpa, and by others as a mountain-temple and/or a maṇḍala. For a recent literature survey and annotated bibliography on the topic, see the appended notice in Woodward (1999, 40–43). For the case of Pahāṛpur as seen as a “maṇḍala-form” temple closely related to the development of Tantric Buddhism in Bengal, see Samuel (2002). 22 Some scholars are inclined to see in the activity of these communities of “forest” monks, who focus on the practice of meditation, the precursory signs of Mahāyāna in India (Ray 1994, 404 et sq.). At least one cave in Khao Ngu, Ratchaburi province, was inhabited by an ascetic (ṛṣi) as is testified by an inscription in situ, at the feet of a pendant-legged Buddha, dated paleographically to circa the 6th or 7th century CE. For the inscription, see Cœdès (2504/1961, 19 pls. VII, VIII); for the cave-relief see Boisselier (1993a and 1993b). 20

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

82

Nicolas Revire

which it is today delimited. Unfortunately, no monastic structures, such as vihāra or kuṭi,23 remain in Wat Phra Men or elsewhere, confirming that all such buildings were built of perishable materials. Whatever the case, given the large size of the extant monument, its perfect symmetry and cardinal orientation with four access stairways, Wat Phra Men must have enjoyed great popularity and even “royal” patronage. Its prestige conceivably accrued from the fine stone Buddha images that were probably displayed in the main enclosure. Four Buddha images At least four colossal Buddha images (3.76 meters high), said to be in “quartzite stone”24, are reported to have originated from Wat Phra Men (figures 6, 8, 9 and 11). These images are of a peculiar type, belonging to what Dupont has called group T2 (1959, 273–274). They are seated with their legs pendant (bhadrāsana), the right hand is raised in a teaching gesture (vitarka mudrā) and the left is resting upon the knee.25 They are generally thought to have been seated originally with both legs pendant against the central structure. Sustaining this view, plinths and pedestals where the statues were supposed to have been installed were also found at the time of the excavations on the north and east sides of the central core (Dupont 1959, 29). Assuming symmetry, four such plinths could be conjectured to have existed, one in each of the cardinal directions. Moreover, big fragments (figures 3 and 4), evidently belonging to these colossal images, were also excavated in the intermediate space at the same time (Dupont 1959, 43).26

Woodward recently wrote that the “cave-like niches” found in the intermediate space of Wat Phra Men could be considered as monk’s cells or kuṭi around the central structure (2008, 80). These niches, however, could have been intended not for residence but for meditation practices instead or to shelter some statues. Note that the number of 16 niches may be symbolic and bear esoteric significance (see footnote 68). 24 In Dhanit Yupho’s terminology (1967), which has been followed by most authors. Le May mentions “a light colored-quartz” (1977, 26). The stone needs to be scientifically analyzed, but that may prove difficult since all of the images have been heavily restored with plaster. The present author believes that the images are simply a kind of limestone. 25 In figures 6, 8, 9 and 11, none of the hands is authentic. All were remodeled during the 1960s by the Fine Arts Department (see infra). For an exhaustive examination and references on this iconography in central Thailand in comparison with other models from India, China and Southeast Asia, see Revire (2008, 62–90). 26 It is not very clear what Dupont meant by “intermediate space” here. Was it the square gallery? In the inventory list of excavated objects at Wat Phra Men, it says that these Buddha fragments were discovered near the central core (1959, 303). 23

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

83

In addition to these remains, other fragments and even a nearly complete statue that had been exhumed prior to the excavations were already in the enclosure of Phra Pathom Chedi.27 Since then the nearly intact statue has been installed in the ordination hall (ubosot) where it is still worshipped (figures 5 and 6).28 The discovery of all these fragments together led to the supposition of the existence of an original arrangement of four Buddhas in Wat Phra Men (state I) seated around the central structure (Dupont 1959, 45–46).29 The Director-General of the Fine Arts Department in the 1960s, Dhanit Yupho, was able to trace additional fragments that belonged to the original set. In 1958, two stone Buddha heads were found at an antique dealer’s shop, having apparently been unearthed under dubious conditions some time before in Wat Phaya Kong, near Ayutthaya. The heads were judged to belong to the series from Nakhon Pathom, and to have been taken there at an unknown date. Other fragments of colossal stone images were spotted in Ayutthaya (1967, 10–12, figs. 7, 9). The question was whether the scattered fragments matched those from Nakhon Pathom. If so, the images should be reassembled or reconstructed in their original state. Craftsmen of the Fine Arts Department who were assigned to the job blithely filled in missing parts with plaster, achieving the results on display today. Two of the Buddha images are found in the National Museum at Bangkok and at Ayutthaya (figures 8 and 9). The third welcomes visitors at the southern entrance of Phra Pathom Chedi (figure 11), while the fourth is enshrined in the ubosot (figure 6).30 The question remains when were those colossal Buddhas transported from Nakhon Pathom to Wat Phaya Kong31 in Ayutthaya and by whom. That temple was located outside the city and was deserted after the fall of Ayutthaya in 1767. Dhanit believed that it dated from the first period of Ayutthaya and that at least two of the

This image had been discovered in mid-19th century, buried under a large anthill standing in Wat Phra Men, by lay people and monks in search of bricks during the restoration of Phra Pathom Chedi. It was then transferred to Phra Pathom Chedi in 1861. The other fragments were installed in the gallery of Phra Pathom Chedi during the reign of Rāma V (Dhanit 1967, 1–6). Some of them were already known to French visitors in the early 20th century (e. g., Lunet de Lajonquière 2006, 181). 28 This image (figure 5) was never installed in a vihāra as it has been commonly reported (e. g., Dupont 1959, 43). As observable from an old photograph, it had been slightly renovated, in particular on the upper-garment which had been shortened before being restored again later. 29 Laurent Hennequin (2009a, 5–8) discusses in detail how this scheme of the four Buddhas at Wat Phra Men was already in vogue through the previous work of Seidenfaden (1929, 44) and Damrong (2512 [1969], 161-163), perhaps influencing Dupont in his interpretation. 30 The third image is officially called “Phra Narachet”; the fourth one is often called “Luang Pho Sila Khao” by the local residents because of its presumably white color (Chatsuman 2008). 31 In Nakhon Pathom, the legendary King Phaya Kong is well known by locals because it is said that he was killed by his own son, King Phaya Phan. Consequently, according to the chronicles, the latter built Phra Pathom Chedi to expiate his sins (Usa 2009, 145). 27

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

84

Nicolas Revire

colossal Buddhas were moved from Nakhon Pathom during the reign of either Rāmathibodi I (1350–1369) or Rāmathibodi II (1491–1529). The new capital saw the construction of many temples and monasteries during that period of development and prosperity, although no reference to Wat Phaya Kong has been found in the chronicles. The rest of Ayutthaya history was too troubled and, probably, not very favorable for the removal of images.32 According to Dhanit, such a transfer of images could be compared to that at the beginning of the Rattanakosin period when Rāma I had hundreds of statues removed from Sukhothai and the northern regions and installed in the temples of his new capital at Bangkok (1967, 14–15). The Buddha from Wat Na Phra Men, Ayutthaya This image of the Buddha seated with legs pendant (4.2 meters high) is unique in the art of Dvāravatī (figure 10). According to Dupont, it would be of “considerable interest” had it not undergone very important restorations. Indeed, the two forearms are certainly not genuine which may explain the abnormal gesture (mudrā) of the two hands resting on the knees.33 Moreover, Dupont avers that the folds of the upper garment, such as they appear in front of the legs, are almost entirely unauthentic. The lotus base was remade and the feet—adjusted with the dress according to a system of tenons and mortises—seem to have come from a different image: could they possibly have belonged to another of those colossal images from Nakhon Pathom? Despite these modifications, Dupont conceded nevertheless that the head was genuine with its large hair curls turning counterclockwise.34 The nimbus also appeared genuine to Dupont, even though its shape is reminiscent of Chinese style. Most likely, the right hand, by comparison with similar images, had originally been raised in a teaching gesture (vitarka-mudrā) while the left hand would have undoubtedly rested on the left knee, palm upwards (1959, 276–277). Dupont also noticed that the higher cross-piece of the throne was probably supporting stylized, hybrid aquatic creatures (makara) which are today missing. One fragment of a cross-piece with an open-mouthed makara turning outward from which a lion appears (figure 7) is currently kept at Phra Pathom Chedi National

Although images were brought in from Angkor, perhaps in 1431. Besides, King Narai is also supposed to have brought some famous images from Chiang Mai (Woodward 2005, 56–57). 33 Another seated Buddha from Ðồng-Du’o’ng in Campā (875 CE) reproduces the same attitude and hand gestures and clearly shows Chinese influences in terms of iconography and style of the drapery (Dupont 1951, 267–274). But Jacq-Hergoualc’h rather sees affinities in style and iconography with the cave-relief of Tham Kuha Sawan in the peninsular area, near Surat Thani (2002, 315–316). 34 The canonical texts specify that the hair curls must turn “clockwise” which is not the case here. 32

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

85

Museum, Nakhon Pathom.35 It is made in the same limestone and could have belonged originally to the throne of this Buddha image from Wat Na Phra Men (called “Phra Khandharat” by locals). French archeologist Claeys was the first to identify the two matching parts (1931, 396–397, pl. LI). Dupont adopted this view without wondering where exactly this fragment had come from. Prince Damrong, as Minister of Interior36, heard or knew that this throne fragment had been taken from Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom (Fine Arts Department 2009, 192–193, fig. 42). This assertion is debatable, however; quite possibly either (a) confusion arose about the provenance of this piece, between Wat Phra Men and Phra Pathom Chedi where it was noticed by Lunet de Lajonquière in 1908;37 or (b) it was confused with other artifacts. The assertion could also have been based on oral traditions or distant memories—Damrong’s memoirs were written many years after his Interior service—in which case conjecture about the original provenance of this fragment remains moot.38 The question is whether the colossal Buddha image that is today at Wat Na Phra Men, Ayutthaya, was originally located at Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom, thus making the original group a set of five Buddhas. Generally, there is no doubt that the Buddha in Ayutthaya came from Nakhon Pathom. It may have been transported to Ayutthaya, the new capital, along with other Buddhas, at an unknown time.39 Its precise origin is difficult to determine. From its craftsmanship, size and material, this Buddha image must be categorically

Makhara with heads turned outward appear frequently in Cambodian and Central Javanese art, although this feature is not totally absent in India when the makara decorate the back of a throne. See Fontein (1980, 8). 36 Prince Damrong was appointed the first Minister of Interior in Thai history, under the reign of King Chulalongkorn (Rāma V), in 1887. 37 Lunet de Lajonquière was actually the first to give a report on this makara throne fragment, which was then exhibited in the external gallery of Phra Pathom Chedi. He could not, however, identify the piece (1909, 36, fig. 14; also 2006, 177, fig. 7). 38 See Damrong (2512 [1969], 161–163). Dhanit slightly altered the text in his translation into English quoted below and made no mention of Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom, as the place of discovery (emphasis in bold by the present author): “When I was the Minister of Interior, the stone that used to be on top of the pediment-like image frame at Phramane [Wat Na Phra Men, Ayutthaya] was found in an excavation. It was, therefore, realized that the stone Buddha image housed in Wat Nā Phramane was originally located at Phra Pathom Chedi […]”. The translator also added in a footnote “Prince Damrong was mistaken in believing the image now at Wat Nā Phramane, Ayudhya, originally came from one of the porches of the stupa at Wat Phramane, Nakhon Pathom” (1967, 4). 39 Before being moved to Wat Na Phra Men, Ayutthaya, this image had been installed in Wat Mahāthāt, that is to say in the center of the new capital city up to 1767. It was only during the reign of Rāma III that the governor of the province decided to move the Buddha to Wat Na Phra Men where it is still located at present. Restorations of the image were also undertaken at the time. For the whereabouts of this image, see Luang Boribal (2490 [1947], 41–52) and more recently Sakchai (2547 [2004], 196–199). 35

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

86

Nicolas Revire

dissociated from the group of the four described above.40 Moreover, the architectural complex of Wat Phra Men, from what remains in its central part, would not seem to have been able to accommodate such a colossal image on the ground. If Prince Damrong were correct about the ultimate provenance of this Buddha, it might have been sheltered in a separate building (vihāra) elsewhere that is lost to history, in the vicinity of the main monument. In the light of such speculations, the following discussion posits that the group of figures consisted only of four Buddhas, not five, excluding from consideration the Buddha from Wat Na Phra Men in Ayutthaya. Iconological Investigation A group of four Buddha images around a stūpa is iconographically very common and significant in Buddhist art. Presumably such an arrangement once existed at Wat Phra Men. The discussion below attempts to identify, first, the Buddha images as the manifestation of a unique Buddhist entity; and second, as a specific group of distinct Buddha images that composed a more complex iconographic program. Śākyamuni or Maitreya Both Śākyamuni and the future Buddha Maitreya, the latter especially in East Asia, are often represented in this attitude with legs pendant. But with no inscriptions at hand it is often hard to distinguish one from another. Bourda, the first scholar to have really tried to interpret this iconography in Buddhist art, warns against a certain number of idées reçues (1949, 302): Nothing is more difficult, in archeology, than to get rid of, or modify, old assertions for which nobody sought to control the rationality. These assertions, repeated on several occasions by more or less famous personalities are considered, after a certain time, like acquired truths. And works follow one another, constantly taking again a pseudo-truth, which causes false interpretations. Such is the case for the iconographic study of Maitreya. For a long time, one assigned him the exclusiveness of this posture sitting in European fashion (pralambapādāsana [or bhadrāsana]) ... However, a more careful examination seriously questions this identification. For example, in the Mahārāṣṭra caves, India, where there are many triad Buddhas in bhadrāsana flanked by two Bodhisattvas, Bourda could occasionally identify Maitreya among the latter because of the stūpa in reduction in the headdress (1949, 303; also Bhattacharya 1980, 100–111). On this ground, the central seated Buddha obviously should not be confused with Maitreya, no matter what was written Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

87

in the past.41 Besides, some Indian Gupta sculptures and low-reliefs represent the scenes of the life of the historical Buddha (Birth, Awakening, First Sermon, the Great Extinction). Frequently, the Buddha Śākyamuni preaching the First Sermon at Sārnāth sits with legs pendant as exemplified in the magnificent sculpture kept in the British Museum. As for the Pāla period, it is common to see the pendantlegged Buddha depicted for the First Sermon, the Great Miracle at Śrāvastī or even the monkey’s offering of the honey (madhu) to the Buddha at Vaiśālī (Paul 1995, pl. 70). In early narrative art from Thailand, this sitting posture is also combined with one of these preaching episodes. Such is the case for some low-reliefs from Nakhon Pathom. One such fragment belonged to an abacus intended to support a Wheel of the Law (dharmacakra), symbol par excellence of the First Sermon. The abacus was carved on its four faces in low-relief with apparently the same motif: a central pendant-legged Buddha seated on a throne and a Buddhist assembly around him including monks, hermits and celestial beings in the clouds (possibly Bodhisattvas or other divinities). This scene is commonly assumed to depict the First Sermon of the Buddha at Sārnāth (Woodward 2003, 71–74).42 Another relief of interest where the Buddha Śākyamuni is most likely represented is the slab, kept today in Bangkok at Wat Suthat but originally from Nakhon Pathom.43 The stone slab44 is divided into two registers depicting successive episodes in the Buddha’s life. The scene at the bottom represents the Great Miracle at Śrāvastī. On the top register, the Buddha is sitting on Indra’s throne and is teaching the Dharma to his mother and the Gods of the Thirty-three (Trāyastriṃśa or Tāvaṃtisa).45 In both cases, the Buddha is sitting in the same manner, with his two legs pendant and his right hand in an identical teaching gesture (vitarka mudrā), the left resting on the lap. Boisselier concludes that this Buddha at Wat Na Phra Men, Ayutthaya, “almost certainly does not come” from Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom. He also noticed the step in ogival form under the feet which he could date to a later period compared with the four other Buddhas (1965, 140). 41 The old arguments for Maitreya are seen in Burgess (1972, 186), Foucher (1905, 49, n.1), Coomaraswamy (1926, 124) and Getty (1988, 21–24). For a more recent discussion on the iconography of Maitreya and the controversies over its identification in India, see Kim (1997, 231–235) and Jirassa (2001). 42 Interestingly enough, Lucien Fournereau, the first European to have seen one of these fragments, did not identify the scene as such but rather as “a King seated on a throne [and] speaking to an audience” (1895, 121); see also Hennequin (2009b, 138–139, figs. 2, 3). 43 The exact provenance is unknown but it was found in Nakhon Pathom during the reign of King Rāma IV. It was installed in the vihāra of Wat Suthat during King Rāma V’s reign, behind the pedestal of the fine presiding Buddha image “Śrī Śākyamuni” from Sukhothai. It was restored and gilded at an unknown date (Pandito 1997, 25). 44 Not a “bronze slab” as incorrectly indicated by Sen (2006, front cover flap). 45 According to the Theravāda tradition, the Abhidhamma piṭaka was preached to the gods by the Buddha on this occasion. The other schools evoke merely the teaching of the Dharma (Skilling 2008). Quaritch Wales wrongly identified the scene of the upper register with the First Sermon (1969, 42). 40

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

88

Nicolas Revire

In short, if this sitting posture may be indifferently attributed to Śākyamuni or to Maitreya, no inscriptions unfortunately come to verify the name of the deity.46 Taken individually and based on iconographic data only, identification remains difficult, especially as a third alternative is possible. Vairocana? Generally speaking, certain Buddha images affecting the “royal pose” with legs pendant in Mahārāṣṭra or elsewhere could also represent Vairocana, the fifth Jina of Esoteric Buddhism. How better to interpret such isolated images, placed as they are in narrow sanctuaries, as if they must be hidden from the eyes of the uninitiated? Similar, mysterious rooms that are scattered in many caves of the Western Deccan might be supposed to have been dedicated partly to the worship of Vairocana that comprised secret and initiatory practices. Huntington accordingly identified, in cave 6 at Aurangābād, a nearly perfect plastic representation of the Womb Realm maṇḍala (garbhadhātu-maṇḍala) as explained in the Mahāvairocana-sūtra and today still in use by the Shingon sect in Japan. The Esoteric Buddhist practice based on this maṇḍala seeks to express the great compassion (mahākaruṇā) of the central Buddha, Vairocana. Inside the shrine, a Buddha seated in bhadrāsana47 is flanked by both Padmapāṇi and Vajrapāṇi, Bodhisattvas easily recognized by their attributes. The iconographic program of contiguous cave 7 would be, according to the same author, devoted to the Diamond Realm maṇḍala (vajradhātu-maṇḍala) as developed in the Sarvatathāgatatattvasaṃgraha (aka STTS) text whose virtue is to develop the wisdom (prajñā) of Vairocana Buddha. The latter is surrounded by Tārā and other female figures, in perfect agreement with iconographic conventions of this maṇḍala still in use. Both maṇḍala are complementary and it is their union which effects the ultimate Bodhi or Awakening. According to Huntington, other Buddha images could bear the same esoteric connotations at Ajaṇṭā, Ellorā or even Kaṇherī.48 In China, inscriptions sometimes indicate both Maitreya and Śākyamuni as well as other Buddhas in this posture. See Sasaguchi (1973); Chapin and Soper (1970a, b); also McNair (2007). 47 Huntington contends that most bhadrāsana Buddha images in the western caves of Mahārāṣṭra reflect Vairocana and, at the same time, Maitreya who is the scion of this Buddha family in several iconographic systems (1981, 54, n. 21 and private communication). 48 Huntington (1981, 52) and Huntington and Huntington (1985, 265–268); see also Huntington and Chandrasekhar (2000) and Berkson (1986). For the case of cave 12 at Ellorā being a maṇḍala, see Malandra (1996, 196–207); for the late Mahāyāna caves at Nāsik, see Bautze-Picron (2000). One very interesting low-relief from Kaṇherī, cave 90 (figure 12), on the left wall, is compared by the Huntingtons to a maṇḍala with the central pendant-legged Buddha representing the eternal principle (dharmakāya) or Vairocana. This identification does not exclude it from being the historical Buddha Śākyamuni as well since the two are “identical in ultimate sense” (1985, 263–264). 46

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

89

Weiner estimates, albeit in different ways, that this peculiar iconography (Buddhas in bhadrāsana and dharmacakra-mudrā), so characteristic and so sudden in the caves of Ajaṇṭā, at the turn of the 6th century, could well mark an “evolution of religious concepts” in favor of Mahāyāna Buddhism (1977, 65–69). Whatever the case for Ajaṇṭā, this iconography was introduced to and adopted in different places in northern India, including the famous monastery at Nālandā. This is what Paul published on the art of Nālandā: “This new iconography, developed in Sārnāth in the fifth century AD, rapidly spread to western Indian Buddhist Caves. The sudden proliferation of the pralambapādāsana [bhadrāsana] Buddha in this period at Sārnāth and other places suggests a new conceptual infusion which might have been connected with some special sect. The discovery of a number of such images from our sites suggests that such a sect was also active here [at Nālandā]. There might have been a sectarian link that connected Nālandā with Sārnāth on one hand and the western Indian caves on the other.” (1995, 7) Could this “evolution of religious concepts” or “new conceptual infusion” be related with the rapid emergence of Esoteric Buddhism across the Indian subcontinent and specifically at Nālandā? As for Southeast Asia, some scholars reached similar conclusions in central Java with the iconographic program of Caṇḍi Borobudur and Caṇḍi Mendut, circa the end of the 8th century. The latter sanctuary shelters in its concealed cella a Buddhist triad centered on a colossal pendant-legged preaching Buddha. Could it be Vairocana or Śākyamuni displayed in the “phenomenal body” (nirmāṇakāya)? The presence of the Wheel and the pair of deer at the feet level is undoubtedly intended to refer to the disciples (śrāvaka) and the episode of the First Sermon, but the presence of two Bodhisattvas contiguous, probably Padmapāṇi on the right and Vajrapāṇi49 on the left of the central image, does not make it possible to doubt the Mahāyāna context, in its Esoteric form, in which they are located. The interior walls of the cella are flanked by several niches, now unoccupied, but which could have held small statues of the four Jinas (see discussion, infra). The external walls have representations of eight Bodhisattvas which are also found in the Garbhadhātu-maṇḍala. If that was so, both Caṇḍi Mendut and Caṇḍi Borobudur, which are aligned with one another, could have been aimed to represent the twin maṇḍala just mentioned above (Singhal 1991, 373–384).50

Bœles seeks to link the iconographic program of Caṇḍi Borobodur and Caṇḍi Mendut with the teaching of the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka-sūtra (Lotus Sūtra). He identifies this Bodhisattva with Mañjuśrī rather than Vajrapāṇi, while admitting: “Our main consideration is that the Bodhisattva Vajrapāṇi is not mentioned in the Lotus Sūtra. […]” (1989, 55 n. 57). This argument does not seem convincing; the present author prefers the traditional identification. 50 For a divergent opinion on the iconographic program of Caṇḍi Mendut, see Klokke (1993, 128–133) and Woodward (2004, 337–338). 49

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

90

Nicolas Revire

At this stage of the analysis, it might be useful to recall that the Mahāvairocana-sūtra and the STTS in which all this iconography may have found its inspiration, were initially composed in India probably during the second half or the last quarter of the 7th century, and translated into Chinese during the 8th century (Huntington 1981, 47, 49, 53, n. 4; Hodge 1994, 66–72 and 2003, 14–24; Weinberger 2003, 28-35 and 2010, 134-136). There are good reasons to believe that these texts were also known in Southeast Asia, albeit perhaps in a variant form. In regard to the famous pendant-legged Buddha image from Ðồng-Du’o’ng in Campā, the An Thái stele, found nearby and dated 902, infers that it probably fitted in a Mahāyāna iconographic program of tantric inspiration and centered on a triad made up of Śākyamuni, Amitābha and Vairocana (Dupont 1951, 269–270; Nandana 2005, 80–81). Uncertainty remains, however, on the exact possible matching of these three names with the pendant-legged Buddha from Ðồng-Du’o’ng. In addition, the worship of the Vairocana maṇḍala seems to be attested in the Malay Peninsula where various clay tablets have been found, some with the eight Bodhisattvas51 around the central Buddha and others somewhat reflecting the relief of Kaṇherī, cave 90, discussed above under the heading “Vairocana” (Pattaratorn 2000, 188–191; Woodward 2004, 335–337).52 As these examples from India and Southeast Asia attest, this peculiar posture was never reserved exclusively for one Buddha or another. Therefore positive identification of the pendant-legged Buddhas remains problematic unless backed by inscriptions. Indeed, Vairocana, like Maitreya, is iconographically identical to Śākyamuni Buddha in scenes of the First Sermon at Sārnāth or preaching the Dharma in the universe. But perhaps this confusion of genre, allowing for both exoteric and esoteric interpretations, is intentional.53 Returning to Wat Phra Men, the possibility remains that the four Buddhas depicted around the so-called stūpa could represent either Śākyamuni, Maitreya or Vairocana. Intrinsically, the repetition of the quadruple Buddha images is often seen as a defining characteristic of the divinity. The Buddha Śākyamuni provides an example with the Great Miracle of multiplications at Śrāvastī, a cosmologic idea well For the same type of clay tablet found in India, see Pal (1973, 71–73, fig. 151). Concerning the worship of the eight Bodhisattvas (aṣṭamahābodhisattva) in India, see Bautze-Picron (1997, 1–55). 52 It is not always very clear who is at the center of the maṇḍala. Granoff’s earlier article on the eight Bodhisattvas scheme says that both Śākyamuni and Vairocana are acknowledged at the center although the author prefers to support the identification of Śākyamuni (1969, 90, 92). Bautze-Picron article on the topic (1997) avoids, perhaps wisely, the Śākyamuni/Vairocana issue. 53 In surveying the beginnings of Esoteric Buddhism, Snellgrove quotes the Śūraṅgamasamādhi Sūtra where Śākyamuni is reported as saying: “That Buddha (namely ‘Resplendent One [Vairocana], Adorned with Rays, Transformation-King’) is myself with a different name […]” (2004, 78, n. 57, 96). 51

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

91

summarized by Paul Mus (1929, 61–62). Further, in historical Thailand, there are many niches around the stūpa or on the prang of four Śākyamuni Buddhas depicted in different attitudes. In regard to Maitreya, the three assemblies at which the Buddha of the Future is destined to deliver sermons after his Awakening are sometimes concentrated in a triadic composition. The long scroll from southern China provides a relevant example, where Maitreya appears thrice seated in bhadrāsana, performing three variants of the teaching gesture (Chapin and Soper 1970b, pl. 32). As for Vairocana, at least one Nepalese example exists of the “Resplendent One” appearing on each face of the caitya at Om-bahal, Patan, stylistically datable to about the 7th century. The figure, being a manifestation of an inner Vairocana, is repeated in four niches above the other Jinas (Slusser 1982, 272–273, figs. 282–284). At Wat Phra Men, identification of the individual Buddhas may remain elusive and reflect the interests of those who sponsored the images, whether related to the Śrāvakayāna, the Mahāyāna or even the Vajrayāna. Furthermore, this arrangement of four Buddhas around the stūpa could denote more complex iconographical symbolism. The system of the five Jinas, of which Vairocana is part, may be a direct reflection of the five Buddhas of the present cosmic age among which are Śākyamuni and Maitreya. The Five Buddhas of the “Good Eon” The first logical interpretation to arise in a Theravāda context for such an arrangement is that of the Buddhas of the present eon. The enumeration of the Buddhas of the past is very old and may go back to the origins of Buddhism.54 Even if the number of Buddhas can vary from one list to another depending on textual sources, what really matters in early Buddhism is the idea of “serialization”; i. e., the fact that the Buddhas follow each other at a different period of time but with no encounters. Nattier published in her widely acclaimed book (1991, 21) on the Buddhist prophecy of decline that: … at a point that is difficult to date with precision, the standard list of seven Buddhas was subjected to a far more significant and widely accepted alteration. The first three—Vipaśyin, Śikhin, and Viśvabhū—were removed from the list, and a future Buddha, Maitreya, was added. This new list, then, consisted of Krakucchanda, Kanakamuni, Kāśyapa, and Śākyamuni, together with the future The Pāli list for instance refers to the last seven Buddhas (Mahāpadāna-sutta, Dīgha-nikāya, II-2). 54

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

92

Nicolas Revire

Buddha Maitreya. At the same time a new qualifier was added, for these five were now described as the Buddhas of the “good eon”, or bhadrakalpa. While the historicity of this pattern change (from seven to five Buddhas) may be questionable, the fivefold series is well evidenced in the scriptures of all Buddhist schools; variants exist in the spelling of their names, however. As for Maitreya, he can appear either as a Buddha in monastic dress or as a Bodhisattva in princely garb. He can even disappear to make way for a fourfold system whereby the four past Buddhas would be depicted anthropomorphically around the stūpa, the symbolic place of gestation before his future rebirth. Many plastic examples and architectural forms exist in South and Southeast Asia of the four Buddhas of the present kalpa arranged as a maṇḍala around the stūpa (Snodgrass 1985, 131–134). Such an arrangement appears very early in Burma, circa the 6th century, in the small silver reliquary excavated at the Khin Ba mound, Śrīkṣetra, on which the names of the four past Buddhas are inscribed in Pāli (Stargardt 2000, 21–24; Moore 2007, 175–178). Of particular interest is a shift in Buddhist thought from a temporal to a spatial concept. The Buddhas are represented in sitting meditation posture at the four cardinal directions; hence the Khin Ba reliquary expresses both temporal and spatial considerations. From the same place, at least two slab stones represent in low-relief five Buddhas sitting in meditation at the base of a stūpa (Luce 1985, vol. II, fig. 27). They could also be considered as the five Buddhas of the present eon who are venerated to this day in Burma and neighboring countries (Martini 1969; Skilling and Evans 1998, 1999). The only new addition in iconography is the appearance of Maitreya as the fifth Buddha. This scheme seems to have been reproduced in architectural form in the 12th century with the so-called pentagonal monuments or with “five faces” (leimyet-hna) in Pagān (Pichard 1991). In Cambodia, Thompson has also suggested that stūpa of the middle period were connected with the cult of Maitreya and the four past Buddhas such as at Wat Nokor, Tralaeng Kaeng, Angkor Wat or Wat Phnom (2000 and 2006). Indeed, common Buddhist piety not only turned to the past, but also to the future with Maitreya as a savior figure.55

Closer to the period under study, one Mon inscription from northeastern Thailand, paleographically dated circa the 7th to 8th centuries, mentions the wish to be reborn at the time of the Buddha Ārya Maitrīya; i. e., Maitreya (Uraisi 1995, 200–201). Moreover, the oldest reference in Pāli to Metteyya so far discovered in Thailand seems to come from an inscribed clay tablet found at stūpa no. 11 in U-Thong. The inscription reads “Metteyyako”; see Jirassa (2001, 261) and Skilling (2009, 111 figs. 5a, 5b). 55

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

93

This iconographic scheme of the five Buddhas of the present eon at Wat Phra Men would seem to accord with that of the Theravāda environment in which the monument is believed to have been established; Dupont has made this interpretation (1959, 64).56 This common interpretation might, however, unintentionally mask another esoteric tradition that had evolved in response to the growing significance of Mahāyāna across the Malay Peninsula around the 7th and 8th centuries. The Five Jinas57 The basic tenet of Theravāda Buddhism is that different Buddhas cannot exist simultaneously. With the emergence of Mahāyāna, doctrinal evolution brought about “Buddha-fields” or “Buddha-lands” (buddhakṣetra).58 Many early Mahāyāna-sūtras mention, for instance, the Buddhas of the ten directions (daśadigbuddha) such as the Saddharmapuṇḍarika and the Gaṇḍavyūha sūtra. The Jinas development, which was examined by Mus in his monumental study of Borobudur (1934, 175–198), is complicated; details of their origins and worship are largely in dispute. This fivefold system (pañcajina) is usually composed with Vairocana at the center, Akṣobhya to the East, Ratnasambhava to the South, Amitābha to the West and Amoghasiddhi to the North; with some variants in the names and the attribution of the directions.59

As indicated in footnote 18, clay tablets were found in Wat Phra Men with the “ye dhammā” verse in Pāli hence clearly attesting their production in a Theravāda community. However the complex iconography of the tablets is difficult to interpret. Similarly, another type of tablet found in Nakhon Pathom and elsewhere, also bearing the “ye dhammā” formula in Pāli on the back, is visibly inspired, however, by a Mahāyānist iconography with the presence of different Bodhisattvas (Thanakrit 2547 [2004]). This type of tablet has been recently reconsidered in a Sri Lankan context with special references to the Girikaṇḍaka Monastery (Woodward 2009). 57 The present author prefers the term jina (“conqueror” or “victor”), largely attested in Buddhist literature, to dhyāni-buddha (“Buddha of meditation”) which is still used sometimes in publications. The latter denomination as well as manuṣi-buddha (“human Buddha”) were the scholarly inventions of Hodgson in the mid-19th century. For a recent reconsideration of these labels, see Gellner (1989, 7–19 and 1996, 252 n.1) and also Lopez (2005, 73, n. 28). 58 See Williams (1989, 224–227). In the Great Miracle at Śrāvastī, the Buddha generates doubles of himself (nirmāṇa), an action that technically does not infringe the basic Buddhological rule mentioned here. However, some have wondered whether this “miracle” should not be seen as the first steps of a Mahāyānist concept, or, on the contrary, an attempt at finding some justification from the Pāli commentators around the 5th century (Rosenfield 1967, 236–238). 59 Gellner asserts: “In early Mahāyāna Buddhism only two of the five [Jinas] had an independent existence: Akṣobhya (…) and Amitābha (…). Three other Buddhas, Amoghasiddhi, Ratnasambhava and Vairocana, were added by the early Vajrayāna (…)”. According to this author, the establishment of the five Jinas seems to have emerged roughly around the 7th century and played a significant role in the first stage of Vajrayāna at least in Newar Buddhism (1996, 252). See also Slusser (1982, 272–273). For an introduction to the notion of the five Jinas in Tantric Buddhism, see Snellgrove (2004, 195–198). 56

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

94

Nicolas Revire

Perhaps the oldest textual reference to the four cardinal Jinas is to be found in some translation of the Suvarṇaprabhāsa-sūtra (Golden Light Sūtra) from the 7th century onwards. This Mahāyāna-sūtra seems to contain some elements of early Tantrā because, in many instances, it describes four directional Buddhas or Jinas and includes a few esoteric discussions as well as some spells and incantations (mantra or dhāraṇī) that are aimed at giving protection through mere recitation (Snellgrove 2004, 148–149). In the text, the Buddhas or Jinas dwell in the four cardinal directions and go by different names from the above list.60 Historically, the Golden Light Sūtra won great esteem in East Asia for protecting the territory and was often read publicly to ward off threats. Its first reading as a court ceremony probably occurred around 660, when the Tang Dynasty of China and Silla Dynasty of Korea had defeated the Paekche kingdom and were threatening Japan.61 In the same vein, a set of eight volumes of the Golden Light Sūtra (Konkōmyō-kyō in Japanese) was given in 694 to the Hōryūji to be read when national security was threatened in Nara (Wong 2008, 15). Wong mentions various attempts by scholars to link the iconography of, for example, the Hōryūji Kondō walls to this text (2008, 154). This sūtra also possibly circulated in and left its imprint on Southeast Asian iconography. The Golden Light Sūtra was re-translated into Chinese by Yijing around 703 after he returned to his homeland (Taishō shinshū daizōkyo, Vol. 16, No. 665; see Takakusu ref.). Since the Chinese pilgrim traveled extensively and resided for many years in Nālandā and the southern seas area, the text may in principle be believed to have been widely popular and circulated (in Sanskrit?) between India and China during his lifetime, although no such textual evidence remains in Southeast Asia.62 Basically the same four directional Buddhas found in the Golden Light Sūtra also form the later Jinas as mental entities in Buddhist maṇḍala, such as in the vajradhātu-maṇḍala known in Shingon Buddhism.63 Whether the early directional Akṣobhya of the East, Ratnaketu of the South, Amitāyus of the West, and Dundubhisvara of the North. The presiding Buddha is still the glorious Śākyamuni. See Emmerick (1996) and the version published online by the Foundation for the Preservation of the Mahayana Texts (FPMT): www.fpmt. org/teachers/zopa/advice/goldenlight.asp. 61 Personal communication by Dr. Kyeongmi Joo at the National University of Pukyong, Busan. The Samguk Yusa chronicle also mentions chanting the Golden Light Sūtra to alleviate drought during the Unified Silla kingdom (Ha and Mintz 1997, 326). Besides there were many commentaries written on this sūtra by the famed monks Wonhyo (616–686 CE) and Gyeonghueng (?–681). 62 See also Ludvik (2004, 707–709). Besides, Yijing’s personal involvement with esoteric practices has been acknowledged in Davidson (2002, 18, n. 16); also Wang (forthcoming). 63 The value of the vajradhātu-maṇḍala cannot be underestimated. It is the primary maṇḍala of the STTS and, with its five Buddha-family structure, it served as the prototype for the other maṇḍala of the Yoga Tantra class as a whole. In the STTS narrative, after his Awakening, Vairocana (aka “Vajradhātu”) leaves Akaṇiṣṭha and travels to the peak of Mount Meru where he seats himself on the lion-seat (siṃhāsana). He is then joined by the Jinas, at the heads of the four Buddha families, who are also seated in the four cardinal directions (Weinberger 2003, 59-60, 72, 77). 60

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

95

pure-land Buddhas ever left an impression in Indian art,64 the later maṇḍala concepts had tremendous impact in Asia on artistic and architectural planning, especially that of the stūpa which is, in a strict sense, the embodiment of Buddhahood (Snodgrass 1985, 135–140; Snellgrove 2004, 317). Wat Phra Men probably once exhibited the common scheme of four Buddhas seated against what is presumably a stūpa, but the fifth Buddha supplementing the series—even though physically absent—would unquestionably have been included, at least symbolically, in the central structure. It remains to be acknowledged, according to the system described below, whether the central Buddha was meant to be Maitreya Buddha, following the first interpretation, or otherwise Vairocana Buddha, if the second esoteric understanding prevails. A double interpretation may possibly have been intended. Hence the four colossal Buddhas from Wat Phra Men could account, either separately or simultaneously, for the four past Buddhas or the four Jinas, each one being assigned a cardinal direction (figure 13): • • • •

East—Kanakamuni; Akṣobhya South—Kāśyapa; Ratnasambhava West—Śākyamuni; Amitābha North—Krakucchanda; Amoghasiddhi.

Since the four statues at Wat Phra Men all seem to display the same teaching gesture (vitarka-mudrā) and since one Buddha is hardly distinguishable from another, this arrangement could have been an early or experimental attempt to represent the Jina series, not only in concordance with popular iconography at the time, but also before any iconographic standardization of gestures (mudrā) in question. Only gradually in Buddhist art, and with the major spread of Vajrayāna Buddhism in Asia towards the 8th to 12th centuries, did the mudrā seem to evolve iconographically (Saunders 1985, 10–16; also Huntington 1981, 52). The miniature caitya with Buddha-niches of the Pāla period in Magādha, in the Kathmandu Valley,65 or even the Buddha statues from Borobudur, seem to be the earliest models for this complex evolution in iconography with different mudrā. Since the Buddha images

For a recent exploration of the cult of the four directional Buddhas and its early artistic expression in Nepal, see Acharya (2008, 45–61). 65 Gellner gives an example for the caitya at Om-bahal in Lalitpur [Patan] where the four Jinas are ascribed to a cardinal direction and Vairocana is found above each of the four. Subsequently, however, Vairocana was usually considered to be inside the stūpa/caitya itself since he was considered the “central and ultimate deity”. In a later period, Akṣobhya replaces Vairocana at the center of the maṇḍala (1996, 252; also Slusser 1982, figs. 282–284). 64

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

96

Nicolas Revire

from Wat Phra Men may pre-date these monuments, there is no reason to assign to them these later iconographic subtleties.66 In comparison, Dupont observed at Chedi Chula Prathon a series of five Buddhas in stucco on the higher terraces. The images were standing in state I, then seated in state II or III, alternatively under the nāga or with legs pendant (1959, 69–75)67. The Jinas are usually represented seated. Could these iconographic changes thus reflect new ideals or Buddhist concepts in Nakhon Pathom? The present author hypothesizes that the pendant-legged Buddhas from Wat Phra Men may have represented the four Jinas who, together with the central Buddha, either plastically or in meditation, comprise the five Jinas maṇḍala.68 This tentative iconographical interpretation echoes that discussed in footnote 48 by the Huntingtons in a low-relief from Kaṇheri, cave 90, with the central pendant-legged Buddha being Vairocana and surrounded by four identical Jinas, in the four corners of the composition (figure 12). The eight standing Buddhas on each side could be identified as the so-called “human” Buddhas (Huntington and Huntington 1985, 263–264, fig. 12.25). If this interpretation is accepted for Wat Phra Men, many other Dvāravatī artifacts, sculptures and Buddha images that are usually labeled as “Theravāda” must be reconsidered in the light of the emergent Esoteric Buddhism and its significant spread across the region circa the 7th and 8th centuries. The Rise of Esoteric Buddhism in Theravāda Guise? Some basic iconographical and architectural aspects of Wat Phra Men in Nakhon Pathom and its Buddha images are discussed in the foregoing pages. The conventional understanding is that four Buddha images, not five, were originally seated against the central core of the monument. The present author has, however, The monks at Wat Phra Men might possibly have subscribed to the efficacy of a simple arrangement of Jinas, in the form of an esoteric maṇḍala (technically the caturmudrā maṇḍala, found in the STTS) and adapted it in their own way, making use of the pendant-legged Buddhas known to them. In caturmudrā, the hand gestures differ—they are performed by the practitioner, to achieve identitywith the deity—but this would have been secret knowledge (Giebel 1995, 138–139). Besides, as Huntington has pointed out elsewhere, the iconographic rigidity usually associated with the Jinas does not always hold true even for relatively late images (1981, 55, n. 33). 67 Cœdès gave good reasons in suggesting that the two types of seated Buddhas belonged to a different stage of construction or renovation (1960, 236). 68 Could this arrangement perhaps allude to a simple maṇḍala form such as the vajradhātu-maṇḍala as described in the STTS with 16 Bodhisattvas, arranged in groups of 4 and associated with the 4 Jinas? See Snellgrove (2004, figs., 211–212). The 16 niches at Wat Phra Men (see footnote 23) were wide enough to have been able to shelter such Bodhisattva images—even though no archeological evidence remains—or meditating monks. If such were the case, it would have served the role of a sacred enclosure—a maṇḍala? Perhaps reminiscent of an earlier scheme, chapter 6 of the Nepalese Kriyāsaṃgraha text, composed around the 13th century, mentions 16 Bodhisattvas seated in bhadrāsana (Skorupski 2002, 97). 66

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

97

drawn on different Buddhist traditions for the hypothesis that actually the original scheme included five Buddhas; the fifth necessarily embedded symbolically in the central structure, hence forming a Buddha or Jina maṇḍala. A double interpretation is also possible, reflecting both exoteric and esoteric practices, and was perhaps intended. Other scholars will hopefully further consider the nature of Buddhism(s) practiced at Nakhon Pathom and nearby sites, even though the Dvāravatī religious context remains too obscure at this time to permit definitive conclusions. All that can be said is that Dvāravatī Buddhism was undoubtedly very heterogeneous and not monolithic as it is sometimes characterized.69 Although Pāli inscriptions are commonly found in central Thailand as early as the 6th or 7th century (Skilling 1997, 94), that is not sufficient proof that Theravādins provided the only available monastic lineage (nikāya). The presence of certain nikāya such as the (Mūla)Sarvāstivādins in Nakhon Pathom (Piriya 1974, 1975) or even Dharmaguptakas in Ratchaburi (Boisselier 1993a, 14 and 1993b, 134, n. 11) has been posited, but such assertions are often speculative and somewhat tenuous (Revire 2009, 120–123; see also Nandana 1978). In any case, the presence of the Theravāda school in a given place by no means precludes the existence of Mahāyāna practices—sometimes with esoteric overtones—even within its own lineage and stronghold such as with the adepts of the Abhayagirivihāra, in contrast with the Mahāvihāra of Sri Lanka (Bareau 1955, 241–243; Deegalle 1999). This Theravāda subgroup appears to have been represented in Central Java around the 8th century and might have played an important role in diffusing esoteric concepts, rituals and texts as far as China (De Casparis 1961; Sundberg 2004). Although written sources regarding Mahāyāna and Esoteric Buddhism in the early history of Thailand are scarce,70 there are presumptions that some tantric or For a recent discussion of Dvāravatī Buddhism almost exclusively in line with the Theravāda tradition that acknowledges some “limited Mahāyānist influences”, see Nandana (2009, 59–60). 70 One inscription from Lopburi (apparently dated 1022–1025 and therefore later than the period under present discussion) mentions the presence of “Mahāyāna-Sthavira” monks, very reminiscent of what Xuanzang described in many monasteries from 7th century India (Cœdès 2504/1961, 10–12; Beal 1981, II, 133, 229, 260, 269). Could these monks have been disciples of the Abhayagirivihāra? Additionally, the last portion of the inscription K. 1158 (dated 1066) from Sab Bāk, found in Nakhon Ratchasima area, also refers to an “Abhayagiri” but the reference is not very clear about whether it refers to the Sri Lankan monastery or just to a local toponym (Skilling 1997, 100). Whatever the case might be, there is no doubt that this inscription comes from a Vajrayānist environment, hence attesting to the growing importance of Esoteric Buddhism in this area at least around the middle of the 11th century. In the same inscription appears the epithet śrīghana as well as the term pañcasugata, as a synonym for pañcajina in reference to the five Jinas (Chirapat 1990, 11–14; Jacques 2006, 71–77). Earlier inscriptions in the region carry the same epithet of śrīghana in referring to the or a Buddha, particularly K. 1000 coming from Phimai and paleographically datable from the 8th century (Jacques 1969, 58–61). Jacques wonders if the use of this epithet does not coincide with the beginning of an esoteric tendency that would influence Mon–Khmer Buddhism in central Thailand (2006). However, Skilling has written an article refuting this interpretation of the epithet śrīghana (2004). 69

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

98

Nicolas Revire

“proto-Tantric” literature and dhāraṇī texts, often inscribed on clay tablets, were in wide circulation at least in peninsular and insular Southeast Asia as early as the 7th and 8th centuries (Woodward 2004, 335–339; Skilling 2009, 109).71 Archeological evidence is also abundant and may prove more fruitful in this quest. The worship of Bodhisattvas Avalokiteśvara and Vajrapāṇi, the “Vajra bearer”, clearly existed in Khu Bua (site 40), Thung Setthi and other places in central Thailand, perhaps as early as the latter half of the 7th century (Boisselier 1965, 149, figs. 13–14; Nandana 1984, 221, 256–257; Fine Arts Department 2000, 111–114; Zaleski 2009, 173, 176, fig. 8). These Bodhisattvas possibly formed a triad together with a central Buddha image whose identity remains uncertain.72 Generally, the influence or presence of Mahāyāna in Dvāravatī is not contested by scholars; to what extent, however, it reached Nakhon Pathom and can be considered tantric or esoteric is not very clear.73 In summary, the study of Dvāravatī iconography could prove difficult in some instances because, in part, Mahāyāna and esoteric practices might have emerged in the guise of the preexisting Theravāda artistic, monastic and scriptural tradition. Conversely, later Theravādins may have reinterpreted or assimilated some older esoteric forms of Buddhist practice that had been performed in Dvāravatī culture.74

The origins and spread of Esoteric Buddhism are still in dispute among scholars, especially with regard to dates; the present author tends to assign a conventional “7th to 8th” century date for its development outside India. 72 Remarkably, the preaching Buddha fragments in terracotta found at Khu Bua, site 40, were all seated with legs pendant (Baptiste and Zéphir 2009, 212, figs. 107–109). According to Brown, Avalokiteśvara and Vajrapāṇi could be also associated with the seated Buddha in low-relief from Khao Thamorat cave, near Si Thep (1996, 88). 73 See Brown (1996, 40 n. 115) for a short review of the proponents of Mahāyāna influence in Dvāravatī. 74 The present author tends to concur with the conclusions of Bizot, who was the first scholar to speak of quasi-Tantric Theravāda practices, perhaps related to the old Abhayagirivihāra, in the early history of Buddhism in Thailand (e. g., 1993, 25–27). Most of Bizot’s publications, in French, have been summarized and reviewed in English by Crosby (2000). 71

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

99

Acknowledgments Sincere thanks are extended to all those who helped guide the course of my research, especially my former adviser Michel Jacq-Hergoualc’h, and current mentors Peter Skilling and Claudine Bautze-Picron. I am also grateful to Hiram Woodward, Jr., Martin Perenchio, Laurent Hennequin, Pinna Indorf, Peter Sharrock and John Huntington for having read the manuscript as it evolved and offering me their comments; and to Pierre Pichard, Joachim Bautze and Isabelle Poujol for their kind authorizations to publish the figures 1, 3, 4, 5, 12. Abbreviations AA: Artibus Asiae AAA: Archives of Asian Art Arts As.: Arts Asiatiques BCAI: Bulletin de la Commission archéologique de l’Indochine BEFEO: Bulletin de l’École française d’Extrême-Orient JAOS: Journal of the American Oriental Society JIABS: Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies JSEAS: Journal of Southeast Asian Studies JSS: Journal of the Siam Society PEFEO: Publications de l’École française d’Extrême-Orient RMN: Réunion des Musées nationaux References Acharya, Diwakar, 2008. “Evidence for Mahāyāna Buddhism and Sukhāvatī Cult in India in the Middle Period: Early Fifth to Late Sixth Century Nepalese Inscriptions”, JIABS, XXXI, 1/2, pp. 23–75. Baptiste, Pierre, 2009. « L’image du Buddha dans l’art de Dvāravatī », in Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, pp. 215–223. Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), 2005. Trésors d’art du Vietnam, la sculpture du Champa, Ve–XVe siècles, Paris, RMN, 373 p. ———, 2009. Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, 312 p.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

100

Nicolas Revire

Bareau, André, 1955. Les sectes bouddhiques du Petit Véhicule, Paris, PEFEO, XXXVIII, 310 p. ———, 2005. « La construction et le culte des stūpa d’après les vinayapiṭaka », in Williams, Paul, Buddhism: Critical Concepts in Religious Studies, Vol. 1: Buddhist Origins and the Early History of Buddhism in South and Southeast Asia, London and New York, Routledge, pp. 1–53. [Orig. publ. 1960, BEFEO, L, pp. 229–274.] Bautze-Picron, Claudine, 1997. « Le groupe des huit grands bodhisatva en Inde : genèse et développement », in Diskul, Subhadradis, M. C., Brown, Robert L. and Eilenberg, Natasha (eds.), Living a Life in Accord with Dhamma: Papers in Honor of Professor Jean Boisselier on His Eightieth Birthday, Bangkok, Silpakorn University, pp. 1–55. ———, 2000. “Nāsik: The Late Mahāyāna Caves 2, 15, 20 and 23–24”, in Taddei, Maurizio and De Marco, Giuseppe (eds.), Proceedings of the Fourteenth International Conference of the European Association of South Asian Archaeologists, Rome, Instituto Italiano per l’Africa e l’Oriente, pp. 1201–1227. Beal, Samuel (tr.), 1981. Si-Yu-Ki: Buddhist Records of the Western World , Delhi, Motilal Banarsidass, 610 p. [Repr. of 1st ed. 1884.] Bentor Yael, 1996. Consecration of Images and Stūpas in Indo–Tibetan Tantric Buddhism, Leiden, Brill, 415 p. Berkson, Carmel, 1986. The Caves at Aurangabad: Early Buddhist Tantric Art in India, Ahmedabad, Mapin Publishing, 238 p. Bhattacharya, Gouriswar, 1980. “Stūpa as Maitreya’s Emblem”, in Dallapiccola, A. L. (ed.), The Stūpa: Its Religious, Historical and Architectural Significance, Wiesbaden, Franz Steiner Verlag, pp. 100–111. Bizot, François, 1993. Le bouddhisme des Thaïs : Brève histoire de ses mouvements et de ses idées des origines à nos jours, Bangkok, Éditions Cahiers de France, 114 p. Bœles, Jan J., 1989. The Secret of Borobudur, According to The Lotus of the True Law, or the Saddharma-puṇḍarīka, Bangkok, Private Publication, 254 p. [1st ed. 1985.] Boisselier, Jean, 1965. « Récentes recherches archéologiques en Thaïlande : Rapport préliminaires de mission (25 juillet–28 novembre 1964) », Arts As., XII, pp. 125–174.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

101

———, 1966. Le Cambodge, Paris, Éditions A. & J. Picard et Cie., 479 p. ———, 1968. « L’art de Dvāravatī », Silpakorn Journal, XI, 6, pp. 34–56. ———, 1993a. « Quelques enseignements des sculptures rupestres de la période de Dvaravati », Récentes recherches en archéologie en Thaïlande, 2nd French– Thai Symposium, 9–11 Dec. 1991, Silpakorn University, pp. 12–23. ———, 1993b. « Propos sur Tham Phra Photisat et les cavernes bouddhiques de Thaïlande », Arts As., XLVIII, pp. 127–135. Bourda, Maria-George, 1949. « Quelques réflexions sur la pose assise à l’européenne dans l’art bouddhique », AA, XII, pp. 302–313. Brown, Robert L., 1996. The Dvāravatī Wheels of the Law and the Indianization of South East Asia, Leiden, Brill, 237 p. + illus. Burgess, James (tr.), 1972. Buddhist Art in India, New Delhi, S. Chand & Co., 228 p. [1st English ed. 1901.] Chapin, Helen B. and Soper, Alexander C., 1970a. “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images – II”, AA, XXXII, 2/3, pp.157–199. ———, 1970b. “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images – III”, AA, XXXII, 4, pp. 259–306. Chatsuman, 2008. “Phra phuttharup sila khao [The White Stone Buddha Image]”, Muang Boran, XXXIV, 4, pp. 20–22. [In Thai.] Chirapat Prapandvidya, 1990. “The Sab Bāk Inscription: Evidence of an Early Vajrayāna Buddhist Presence in Thailand”, JSS, LXXVIII, 2, pp. 11–14. Claeys, Jean-Yves, 1931. « L’archéologie du Siam », BEFEO, XXXI, pp. 361–448 + pls. Cœdès, George, 1927, “Siamese Votive Tablets”, JSS, XX, pp.1-23 + 15 pl. ———,1952. « Deux fragments d’inscription récemment découverts à P’ra Pathŏm », Comptes-rendus des séances de l’Académie des inscriptions et belles-lettres, pp. 27–31. ———, 1960. « Compte rendu de Pierre Dupont, L’archéologie mône de Dvāravatī », Arts As., VII, 3, pp. 235–239. ———, 2504 [1961]. Phrachum sila charuek phak thi song – charuek thawarawadi sriwichai lawo/Recueil des inscriptions du Siam – 2. Inscriptions de Dvāravatī, Çrīvijaya et Lăvo, Bangkok, Fine Arts Department, 106 p. + pls. [2nd ed., rev., in Thai and French; 1st ed. 1924.]

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

102

Nicolas Revire

Coomaraswamy, Ananda K., 1926. Pour comprendre l’art hindou, Paris, Bossard, 176 p. Crosby, Kate, 2000. “Tantric Theravāda: A Bibliographic Essay on the Writings of François Bizot and Others on the Yogavācara Tradition”, Contemporary Buddhism, I, 2, pp. 141–198. Damrong Rajanubhab, Prince, 2512 [1969]. “Lao ruang pai chawa khrang thi sam [Stories about my third visit to Java]”, Prachum phongsawadan [Collection of Chronicles], (in Thai; 1st Thai ed. 2480 [1938]), XLI, 47, pp. 95–227. Davidson, Ronald M., 2002. Indian Esoteric Buddhism: A Social History of the Tantric Movement, New York, Columbia University Press, 474 p. + illus. De Casparis, Johannes G., 1961. “New Evidence on Cultural Relations between Java and Ceylon in Ancient Times”, AA, XXIV, pp. 241–248. Deegalle, Mahinda, 1999. “A Search for Mahāyāna in Sri Lanka”, JIABS, XXII, 2, pp. 343–359. Dhanit Yupho, 1967. Quartzite Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period, Bangkok, Fine Arts Department, 16 p. Dupont Pierre, 1937. « Mission au Siam (23 juillet – 22 août 1937) : Recherches archéologiques à Nak’ôn Pathom et à Kok Wat », BEFEO, XXXVII, pp. 686–693 + pl. ———, 1951. « Les apports chinois dans le style bouddhique de Ðồng-Du’o’ng », BEFEO, XLIV, 1, pp. 267–274 + pls. ———, 1959. L’archéologie mône de Dvāravatī, Paris, PEFEO, XLI, 2 vols., 329 p. + 152 pls. Emmerick, Ronald Eric (tr.), 1996. The Sūtra of Golden Light: Being a Translation of the Suvarṇabhāsottamasūtra, Oxford, Pali Text Society, 137 p. [3rd ed., rev.; 1st ed. 1970.] Fine Arts Department, 2000. Thung setthi boransathan thawarawadi chaifang thale petchaburi [Thung Setthi, a Dvāravatī Monument near the Petchaburi Coast], Bangkok, Fine Arts Department, 160 p. [In Thai.] ———, 2009. Silapa thawarawadi tonkamnoet phutthasin nai prathet thai [Dvaravati Art: The Early Buddhist art of Thailand], Bangkok, Fine Arts Department, 248 p. [In Thai and English.] Fontein, Jan, 1980. “A Buddhist Altarpiece from South India,” Bulletin of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 78, pp. 4–21.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

103

Foucher, Alfred, 1905. Étude sur l’iconographie bouddhique de l’Inde d’après des textes inédits, Paris, Ernest Leroux. Fournereau, Lucien, 1895. Le Siam ancien, archéologie, épigraphie, géographie, First Part, Paris, Ernest Leroux, 321 p. + pls. Gellner, David, 1989. “Hodgson’s Blind Alley?”, JIABS, XIII, 1, pp. 7–19. ———, 1996. Monk, Householder, and Tantric Priest: Newar Buddhism and its Hierarchy of Ritual, New Delhi, Foundation Books, 428 p. [1st ed. with Cambridge University Press, 1992.] Getty, Alice, 1988. The Gods of Northern Buddhism: Their History and Iconography, New York, Dover Publications, 220 p. [Repr. of 2nd ed. 1928; 1st ed. 1914.] Giebel, Rolf W., 1995. “The Chin-kang-ting ching yü-ch’ieh shih-pa-hui chihkuei: an annotated translation”, Journal of Naritasan Institute for Buddhist Studies, 18, pp. 107–201. Granoff, Phyllis, 1969. “A Portable Buddhist Shrine from Central Asia”, AAA, XXII, pp. 80–95. Ha, Tae-Hung and Mintz , Grafton K. (tr.), 1997. Samguk Yusa – Legends and History of the Three Kingdoms of Ancient Korea, Seoul, Yonsei University Press, 456 p. [1st ed. 1972.] Hennequin, Laurent, 2009a. Wat Phra Men (Nakhon Pathom), témoignages archéologiques et documentaires, Research Report (with English summary), Faculty of Arts, Silpakorn University, Nakhon Pathom, 269 p. ———, 2009b. « Nakhon Pathom au temps de Lucien Fournereau », in Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, pp. 137–143. Hodge, Stephen, 1994. “Considerations on the Dating and Geographical Origins of the Mahāvairocanābhisaṃbodhi-sūtra”, in Skorupski, Tadeusz and Pagel, Ulrich (eds.), The Buddhist Forum, III (1991–1993), London, School of Oriental and African Studies, pp. 57–83. ——— (tr.), 2003. The Mahā-Vairocana-Abhisaṃbodhi Tantra: With Buddhaguhya’s Commentary, New York, Routledge Curzon, 572 p. Huntington, John C., 1981. “Cave Six at Aurangabad: A Tantrayāna Monument?”, in Williams, Joanna G. (ed.), Kalādarśana: American Studies in the Art of India, Leiden, Brill, pp. 47–55.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

104

Nicolas Revire

Huntington, John C. and Chandrasekhar, Chaya, 2000. “The Dharmacakramudrā Variant at Ajanta: An Iconological Study”, Ars Orientalis, XXX, Suppl. I, pp. 33–39. Huntington, Suzan L. and Huntington, John C., 1985. The Art of Ancient India; Buddhist, Hindu, Jain, New York/Tokyo, Weatherhill, 786 p. Jacq-Hergoualc’h, Michel, 2002. The Malay Peninsula: Crossroads of the Maritime Silk Road (100 b. c. – 1300 a. d.), Leiden, Brill, 607 p. + illus. Jacques, Claude, 1969. « Études d’épigraphie cambodgienne. II. Inscriptions diverses récemment découvertes en Thailande », BEFEO, LVI, 1, pp. 57–74. ———, 2006. “The Buddhist sect of Śrīghana in ancient Khmer lands”, in Lagirarde, François and Paritta Chalermpow Koanantakool (eds.), Buddhist Legacies in Mainland Southeast Asia: Mentalities, Interpretations and Practices, Bangkok, Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn Anthropology Centre, pp. 71– 77. Jirassa Kachachiva, 2001. L’iconographie de Maitreya (Bodhisattva et Buddha Futur) : de l’Inde à l’Asie du Sud-Est, 2 vols., Doctoral Dissertation (unpubl.), Université Paris–3 Sorbonne nouvelle, 494 p. Kim, Inchang, 1997. The Future Buddha Maitreya: An Iconological Study, New Delhi, D.K. Printworld, 385 p. Klokke, Marijke J., 1993. The Tantri Reliefs on Ancient Javanese Candi, Leiden, KITLV Press, 312 p. + illus. Le May, Reginald, 1977. A Concise History of Buddhist Art in Siam, Rutland & Tokyo, Charles E. Tuttle Company, 169 p. + illus. [3rd ed.; 1st ed. 1938.] Lopez, Donald, 2005. “The Ambivalent Exegete: Hodgson’s Contribution to the Study of Buddhism”, in Waterhouse, David M. (ed.), The Origins of Himalayan Studies: Brian Houghton Hodgson in Nepal and Darjeeling 1820–1858, London/New York, Routledge Curzon, pp. 49–76. Luang Boribal Buribhand, 2490 [1947]. “Wijan phra phuttharup sila nai viharn noi wat na phramen changwat phranakon sri ayutthaya [Criticism regarding the stone Buddha from the vihāra at Wat Na Phra Men, Ayutthaya]”, Silpakorn Journal, I, 1, pp. 41–52. [In Thai.] Luce, Gordon H., 1985. Phases of Pre-Pagan Burma, Language and History, 2 vols., Oxford, Oxford University Press 185pp. + 100pls. Ludvik, Catherine, 2004. “A Harivaṃśa Hymn in Yijing’s Chinese Translation of the Sutra of Golden Light”, JAOS, CXXIV, 4, pp. 707–734. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

105

Lunet de Lajonquière, Étienne, Edmond, 1909. Le domaine archéologique du Siam (extracts from BCAI), Paris, Ernest Leroux, 79 p. + illus. ———, 2006. « Essai d’inventaire archéologique du Siam », in Aséanie, 17, pp. 169–192. [Repr. from BCAI, 1912, pp. 105–113.] Malandra, Geri H., 1996. “The Maṇḍala at Ellora / Ellora in the Maṇḍala”, JIABS, XIX, 2, pp. 181–207. Manguin, Pierre-Yves and Indrajaya, Agustijanto, 2006. “The Archaeology of Batujaya (West Java, Indonesia): An Interim Report”, in Bacus, Elisabeth A., Glover, Ian C. and Pigott, Vincent C. (eds.), Uncovering Southeast Asia’s Past: Selected Papers from the 10th International Conference of the European Association of Southeast Asian Archaeologists, Singapore, National University of Singapore Press, pp. 245–257. Martini, Ginette, 1969. “Pañcabuddhabyākaraṇa”, BEFEO, LV, 1, pp. 125–144. McNair, Amy, 2007. Donors of Longmen: Faith, Politics, and Patronage in Medieval Chinese Buddhist Sculpture, Honolulu, University of Hawai’i Press 230 pp. Moore, Elizabeth H., 2007. Early Landscapes of Myanmar, Bangkok, River Books, 271 p. Mus, Paul, 1929. « Le symbolisme d’Angkor Thom. Le ‘Grand Miracle du Bayon’ », Comptes rendus de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, pp. 57–68. ———, 1934. « Barabuḍur : genèse de la bouddhologie mâhâyaniste », BEFEO, XXXIV, pp. 175–400. Nandana Chutiwongs, 1978. “Review article on the Jātaka reliefs at Cula Pathon Cetiya”, JSS, XLVI, 1, pp.133–151. ———, 1984. The Iconography of Avalokiteśvara in Mainland South East Asia, Doctoral Dissertation (unpubl.), Rijksuniversiteit Leiden, 616 p. + illus. ———, 2005. « Le bouddhisme du Champa », in Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), Trésors d’art du Vietnam, la sculpture du Champa, Ve–XVe siècles, Paris, RMN, pp. 64–87. ———, 2009. « Le bouddhisme à Dvāravatī et à Hariphunchai », in Baptiste , Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, pp. 59–73. Nattier, Jan, 1991. Once Upon a Future Time: Studies in a Buddhist Prophecy of Decline, Berkeley, Asian Humanities Press, 318 p. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

106

Nicolas Revire

Pal, Pratapaditya, 1973 “A Note on The Mandala of The Eight Bodhisattvas”, AAA, XXVI, pp. 71–73. Pandito, Benton, Ven., 1997. Wat Suthat-Thepwararam: The Palace of Indra, Bangkok, Liang Chiang Press, 90 p. Pattaratorn Chirapravati, 1997. Votive Tablets in Thailand: Origin, Styles, and Uses, New York, Oxford University Press, 83 p. ———, 2000. “Development of Buddhist Traditions in Peninsular Thailand: A Study Based on Votive Tablets (Seventh to Eleventh Century)”, in Taylor, Nora A. (ed.), Studies in Southeast Asian Art: Essays in Honor of Stanley J. O’Connor, New York, Cornell University, pp. 172–192. Paul, Debjani, 1995. The Art of Nālandā: Development of Buddhist Sculpture a.d. 600–1200, New Delhi, Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers, 121 p. + illus. Phasook Indrawooth, 2004. “The Archaeology of the Early Buddhist Kingdoms of Thailand”, in Glover, Ian and Bellwood, Peter (eds.), Southeast Asia: From Prehistory to History, London/New York, Routledge Curzon, pp. 120–148. Pichard, Pierre, 1991. The Pentagonal Monuments of Pagan, Bangkok, White Lotus, 157 p. ———, 1995. Inventory of Monuments at Pagan, Vol. 5: Monuments 1137–1439, Vol. 6: Monuments 1440–1736, Unesco/EFEO, Kiscadale. ———, 1999. « Présentation et commentaire de Pierre Dupont – Recherches archéologiques au Siam (1939–1940) », Aséanie, 4, pp. 165–170. Piriya Krairiksh, 2517 [1974]. Phutthasasana nithan thi chedi chula pathon [Buddhist Folk Tales Depicted at Chula Pathon Cedi], Bangkok, 89 p. [In Thai and English.] ———, 1975. The Chula Pathon Cedi: Architecture and Sculpture of Dvāravatī, Doctoral Dissertation (unpubl.), Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachussetts, 427 p. + illus. Ramachandran, T. N., 1965. “The Nāgapaṭṭinam and other Buddhist Bronzes in the Madras Museum”, Bulletin of the Madras Government Museum, VII, 1, Madras, 156 p. + pls. Ray, Reginald A., 1994. Buddhist Saints in India: A Study in Buddhist Values and Orientations, New York, Oxford University Press, 508 p.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

107

Revire, Nicolas, 2008. Introduction à l’étude des bouddhas en pralambapādāsana dans l’art de Dvāravatī : le cas du Wat Phra Men – Nakhon Pathom, 2 vols., Master Thesis (unpubl.), Université Paris 3–Sorbonne nouvelle, 156 p. + pls. ———, 2009. « À propos d’une ‘tête’ de khakkhara conservée au Musée national de Bangkok », Aséanie, 24, pp. 111–134. ———, forthcoming. “Some Reconsiderations on Pendant-Legged Buddhas in Dvāravatī Art”, Bulletin of the Indo–Pacific Prehistory Association. Rosenfield, John M., 1967. The Dynastic Arts of the Kushans, Berkeley and Los Angeles, University of California Press, 377 p. + illus. Sakchai Saising, 2547 [2004]. Sinlapa thawarawadi wathanatham phutthasasana yuk raek nai din daen thai [The Art of Dvāravatī: First Buddhist Civilization in Thailand], Bangkok, Muang Boran, 296 p. [In Thai.] Samuel, Geoffrey, 2002. “Ritual Technologies and the State: The Mandala-Form Buddhist Temples of Bangladesh”, Journal of Bengal Art, 7, pp. 39–56. Santi Leksukhum , 2009. « Les chedi de Dvāravatī », in Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, pp. 129–135. Sasaguchi, Rei, 1973. “A Dated Painting from Tun-Huang in the Fogg Museum”, AAA, XXVI, pp. 26–49. Saunders, Dale E., 1985. Mudrā. A Study of Symbolic Gestures in Japanese Buddhist Sculpture, New Jersey, Princeton University Press, 296 p. [1st ed. 1960.] Seidenfaden, Erik, 1929. Guide to Nakhon Pathom, Royal State Railways of Siam, Bangkok, 46 p. + illus. [2nd ed.] Sen, Joyanto K., 2006. The Archaeology of the Mons of Dvāravatī, 2 vols., Bangkok, White Lotus Press, 340 p. + illus. [Tr. of Dupont, rev.] Singhal, Sudarshana Devi, 1991. “Caṇḍi Mendut and the Mahāvairocana-sūtra”, in Chandra, Lokesh (ed.), The Art and Culture of South-East Asia, New Delhi, Aditya Prakashan, pp. 373–384. Skilling, Peter, 1997. “The Advent of Theravāda Buddhism to Mainland South-East Asia”, JIABS, XX, 1, pp. 93–107. ———, 2003. “Dvāravatī: Recent Revelations and Research”, Dedications to Her Royal Highness Princess Galyani Vadhana Krom Luang Naradhiwas Rajanagarindra on Her 80th Birthday, Bangkok, The Siam Society, pp. 87–112.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

108

Nicolas Revire

———, 2004. “Random Jottings on Śrīghana: An Epithet of the Buddha”, Annual Report of the International Research Institute for Advanced Buddhology at Soka University for the Academic Year 2003, VII, Tokyo, The International Research Institute for Advanced Buddhology, Soka University, pp. 147– 158. ———, 2008. “Dharma, Dhāraṇī, Abhidharma, Avadāna: What Was Taught in Trayastriṃśa?”, Annual Report of the International Research Institute for Advanced Buddhology at Soka University for the Academic Year 2007, XI, Tokyo, The International Research Institute for Advanced Buddhology, Soka University, pp. 37–60. ———, 2009. « Des images moulées au service de l’idéologie du mérite », in Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, pp. 107–113. Skilling, Peter and Evans, Bruce, 1998. “Five Bodhisattas (Part 1)”, Fragile Palm Leaves Newsletter, 4, pp. 10–12. ———, 1999. “Five Bodhisattas (Part 2)”, Fragile Palm Leaves Newsletter, 5, pp. 8–12. Skorupski, Tadeusz (tr.), 2002. Kriyāsaṃgraha: Compendium of Buddhist Rituals: An Abridged Version, Tring, The Institute of Buddhist Studies, 194 p. Slusser, Mary Shepherd, 1982. Nepal Mandalas: A Cultural Study of the Kathmandu Valley, Vol. I, Princeton, New Jersey, Princeton University Press, 491 p. Snellgrove, David, 2004. Indo Tibetan Buddhism, Indian Buddhists & Their Tibetan Successors, Bangkok, Orchid Press, 640 p. [Rev. ed.; 1st ed. 1987.] Snodgrass, Adrian, 1985. The Symbolism of the Stupa, New York, Cornell University, 469 p. Stargardt, Janice, 2000. Tracing Thought Through Things: The Oldest Pali Texts and the Early Buddhist Archeology of India and Burma, Amsterdam, Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences, 60 p. Sundberg, Jeffrey Roger, 2004. “The Wilderness Monks of the Abhayagirivihāra and the Origins of Sino–Javanese Esoteric Buddhism”, Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, CLX, 1, Leiden, pp. 95–123. Takakusu, Junjirō (tr.), 1924–1932. Taishō shinshū daizōkyo [Complete Tripitaka of the Taisho period, 1912–1926], Tokyo, Taishō issaikyō kankō-kai, 100 vols.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

109

Thanakrit Laosuwan, 2547 [2004]. “Phraphim dinphao chak ratchaburi: rongroi khamsamphan rawang nikai therawat-mahayan nai samai thawarawadi [Clay Votive Tablets from Ratchaburi: Traces of the Relationship between the Theravāda and the Mahāyāna in the Dvāravatī Period]”, Damrong Wichakan/Journal of the Faculty of Archaeology, III, 5, pp. 152–161. Thompson, Ashley, 2000. “Lost and Found: The Stupa, the Four-Faced Buddha, and the Seat of Royal Power in Middle Cambodia”, in Lobo, Wibke and Reimann, Stephanie (eds.), Proceedings of the 7th International Conference of the European Association of Southeast Asian Archaeologists, Berlin (31 Aug. – 4 Sept. 1998), pp. 245–263. ———, 2006. “The Future of Cambodia’s Past: A Messianic Middle-Period Cambodian Royal Cult”, in Marston, John and Guthrie, Elizabeth (eds.), History, Buddhism, and New Religious Movements in Cambodia, Chiang Mai, Silkworm Books, pp. 13–39. [1st ed. 2004.] Tri Amatyakul, 2482 [1939]. Kankutteng sakboransatan (Wat Phra Men), Nakhon Pathom [Excavations at an ancient site (Wat Phra Men), Nakhon Pathom], Bangkok, Fine Arts Department, 15 p. [In Thai.] Uraisi Varasarin, 1995. « Les inscriptions mônes découvertes dans le Nord-Est de la Thaïlande », La Thaïlande des débuts de son histoire jusqu’au XVe siècle, 1st French–Thai Symposium, 18–24 July 1988, Silpakorn University, pp. 196–211. Usa Nguanphienphak, 2009. « Fouilles récentes au Phra Pathon Chedi », in Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (ed.), Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, pp. 145–149. Quaritch Wales, H. G., 1969. Dvāravatī, the Earliest Kingdom of Siam (6th to 11th century A. D.), London, Bernard Quaritch, 149 p. Wang, Bangwei, forthcoming. “Nālandā Revisited: What we can know more of it”, Buddhism across Asia: Networks of Material, Intellectual and Cultural Exchange, 16–18 Feb. 2009, Singapore, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. Weinberger, Steven Neal, 2003. The Significance of Yoga Tantra and the Compendium of Principles (Tattvasaṃgraha Tantra) within Tantric Buddhism in India and Tibet, Doctoral Dissertation (unpubl.), Department of Religious Studies, University of Virginia, 348 p. ———, 2010. “The Yoga Tantras and the Social Context of Their Transmission to Tibet”, Chung-Hwa Buddhist Journal, 23, pp. 131-166. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

110

Nicolas Revire

Weiner, Sheila L., 1977. Ajaṇṭā: Its Place in Buddhist Art, Berkeley, University of California Press, 138 p. + illus. Williams, Paul, 1989. Mahāyāna Buddhism: The Doctrinal Foundations, London/ New York, Routledge Curzon, 317 p. Wong, C. Dorothy (ed.), 2008. The Hōryūji Reconsidered, Newcastle, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 314 p. Woodward, Hiram W., Jr., 1993. “The Thai Ĉhêdî and the Problem of Stūpa Interpretation”, History of Religions, XXXIII, 1, pp. 71–91. ———, 1999. “On Borobudur’s upper Terraces”, Oriental Art, XLV, 3, pp. 34–43. ———, 2003. The Art and Architecture of Thailand: From Prehistoric Times through the Thirteenth Century, Leiden and Boston, Brill, 277 p. ———, 2004. “Esoteric Buddhism in Southeast Asia in the Light of Recent Scholarship”, JSEAS, XXXV, 2, pp. 329–354. ———, 2005. “The Buddha Images of Ayutthaya”, in Forest McGill (ed.), The Kingdom of Siam: The Art of Central Thailand, 1350–1800, The Asian Art Museum of San Francisco, Snoeck Publishers, pp. 47–59. ———, 2008. “Book review: The Archaeology of the Mons of Dvāravatī by Pierre Dupont (translated from the French with updates by Joyanto K. Sen)”, Marg, LX, 2, pp. 79–81. ———, 2009. “A Dvāravatī Tablet Reconsidered”, Aséanie, 23, pp. 63–75. Zaleski, Valérie, 2009. « Les décors de stucs et de terre cuite : témoins de la cosmologie bouddhique », in Baptiste, Pierre and Zéphir, Thierry (eds.), Dvāravatī : aux sources du bouddhisme en Thaïlande, Paris, RMN, pp. 169–179.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

111

Figure 1. Map of main archeological sites in Nakhon Pathom. (Courtesy of Pierre Pichard.)  

Figure 2. Reconstruction of the ground plan, Wat Phra Men, Nakhon Pathom. (After Dupont 1959, pl. 4.)   Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

112

Nicolas Revire

Figure 3. Lower portion of a colossal seated Buddha image from Wat Phra Men. (Photograph by Pierre Dupont, courtesy of EFEO photographic archives, Paris.)  

Figure 4. Fragment of a pendant leg from a colossal seated Buddha image, found during excavations at Wat Phra Men, 1939–40. (Fonds Thaïlande, ref: THA24102, courtesy of EFEO photographic archives, Paris.) Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

Figures 5 and 6. Colossal Buddha image in the ubosot of Phra Pathom Chedi (5, left: photograph by Pierre Dupont, courtesy of EFEO photographic archives, Paris; 6, right: recent photograph by Nicolas Revire).  

Figure 7. Fragmentary cross-piece of a throne, showing a makara with a lion issuing from its mouth; Phra Pathom Chedi Museum. (Photograph by Nicolas Revire.)   Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

113

114

Nicolas Revire

Figure 8. Colossal Buddha image, National Figure 9. Museum, Bangkok. (Photograph by Nicolas Revire.)     

Figure 10. Unique, colossal Buddha image installed at Wat Na Phra Men, Ayutthaya; originally from Nakhon Pathom. (Photograph by Nicolas Revire.)  

Colossal Buddha image, Chao Sam Phraya Museum, Ayutthaya. (Photograph by Nicolas Revire.)

Figure 11. Colossal Buddha image, Phra Pathom Chedi, Nakhon Pathom. (Photograph by Nicolas Revire.)  

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Iconographical Issues in the Archeology of Wat Phra Men

Figure 12. Buddha maṇḍala in bas-relief, Cave 90, Kaṇheri,

India. (Photograph by Joachim Bautze.)  

Figure 13. Wat Phra Men as a maṇḍala? (Diagram by Nicolas Revire, after Dupont 1959, pl. 4.) Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

115

116

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period: A Possible Link between Dvāravatī and Angkor Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert The iconography of Buddha images known as the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha is analyzed. The origin and evolution of the Nāga-Buddha in India are reviewed. Differences in the iconography of nāga-hooded figures are elucidated and examined. The evolution of the iconography in Sri Lanka, Thailand (Dvāravatī and Angkorian periods) and Cambodia is surveyed. Possible transmission routes between India, Sri Lanka and Dvāravatī are considered. The possibility that the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha was the origin of the Angkorian Nāga-Buddha is examined. Clues to the significance of the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha in that context are explored.

The iconography of the Nāga-Buddha typically refers to the episode of the Buddha’s life when the nāga Mucalinda arises to protect the Buddha Śākyamuni against heavy rainfall during the sixth week of his meditation following enlightenment. However, the use of the different designations for this iconography in both the English and French literature—nāga-protected Buddha, Buddha protégé par le nāga, Buddha assis sur/sous le nāga and Mucalinda-Buddha, among others—reveals uncertainty among scholars about the real meaning of those images. The Nāga-Buddha is typically depicted with the Buddha seated upon the coils of the nāga, which form a pedestal or throne; however, the episode of Mucalinda1 in the Buddhist texts instead has the Buddha wound up in the nāga coils, indicating either a deviation from the text or some alternative or additional meaning. The Nāga-Buddha appears for the first time late in the 2nd century AD in South Indian art on bas-reliefs decorating stūpa elements, but is seldom seen as sculpture in the round in India. Free-standing images of the Nāga-Buddha appear in Sri Lankan art in the late Anurādhapura period (7th to 8th century AD), in Dvāravatī art (7th to 10th), and in Khmer art (10th to 13th). Sixty years ago P. Dupont2 comprehensively studied a small number of Nāga-Buddha images found in Thailand and dated to the Dvāravatī period, after The substance of this article was presented at the First International Dvāravatī Symposium, held at the National Museum, Bangkok on 3 September 2009. 1 A rare, modern sculpture of the nāga Mucalinda that shows the coils of the nāga winding around the Buddha can be seen in the Vihāra of Wat Suthatthephawararam in Bangkok. It dates from the Ratanakosin period, late in the 19th century. 2 Dupont 1959, 251–265 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

117

having studied the evolution of the Khmer Nāga-Buddha.3 Since then, other images of the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha has come to light, including later images from northeastern Thailand that may be Dupont’s “missing link”4 between the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha and the first Khmer images which appeared in the second half of the 10th century. Such a link has also been considered by H. Woodward5 and others.6 However, the association of the Khmer Nāga-Buddha with a tantric form of Mahāyāna Buddhism,7 while Dvāravatī Buddhism was supposedly Theravāda, remains unaccounted for. The Nāga-Buddha, the preferred representation of the Buddha in Khmer art during the Angkor period, became the central deity of the empire during the reign of Jayavarman VII (Bàyon period), who converted the state religion from Śaivaism to Vajrayāna Buddhism. Despite the abundant literature on Jayavarman VII’s Buddhism, the origin or identification of this deity has not been satisfactorily explained since it is not evidenced in other Vajrayāna traditions. The following pages discuss the origin and the evolution of the Nāga-Buddha image. The discussion examines the possibility that the proposed Dvāravatī origin of the Khmer Nāga-Buddha could help explain why the Nāga-Buddha was adopted as central deity of the Khmer empire, or at least shed some light on its advent. Nāga-protected figures. The iconographical device of a polycephalous nāga hood over a deity’s head, halo-like, is common to Hindu, Jain and Buddhist art.8 In Hindu art, Viṣṇu is often represented with a polycephalous nāga hood above his head, in reference to the creation of a new universe by Viṣṇu-Ananataśāyin. In Jain art, Jina or Tīrthaṅkara images are represented by standing or sitting human figures protected by the polycephalous hood of a nāga, whose undulating coils appear on both sides. The mythical life story of the 23rd Tīrthaṅkara Parśvanātha9 tells of two nāga that arose during a hurricane-like rainstorm to protect Parśvanātha during his meditation that led to his enlightenment. This legend could be at the origin of the Mucalinda episode, as both the Buddhist and Jain traditions have borrowed from one another and many episodes are common to the Buddha’s life and Tīrthaṅkara’s lives. Dupont 1950, 39–61. “Le hiatus” (Dupont 1959, 261, 264). 5 Woodward 1997, 72. 6 Sen 2007, 67–68. 7 Evidence provided in studies by Prapandvipa (1990), Woodward (1981, 2003 and 2007), Lobo (1997c), and Sharrock (2006). 8 The most ancient example of these images is a sculpture in the round of a seven-headed nāga hood found in Rajgir, in the Nālandā district of Bihar, India, and now in the Indian Museum, Kolkata. A tenon on its base suggests that it was placed above the head of an image of worship of an unknown religious denomination. It has been dated by S. P. Gupta to the Maurya period (3rd–2nd century BC) on the evidence of stylistic analogies with the nāgapuṣpa motif of the Aśoka Pillars (The Roots of Indian Art, Delhi 1980, pp. 324, 335; as quoted in Misra 1982, 299 note 43). 9 Eilenberg 1996, 52. 3 4

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

118

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

Nāgarāja in Buddhist Indian and Sri Lankan art In Buddhism, the nāga or nāgarāja, after their conversion to the Buddha’s doctrine, become the natural protectors of the Buddha’s relics and sacred places. The first Buddhist nāga images appear during the Śuṅga period (2nd century BC), both in theriomorphic10 and semi-anthropomorphic forms, on the bas-reliefs decorating the posts of the stone railings (vedikā) that surround the stūpa. There they are represented as guardians of those sacred places11 like other protective mythological beings such as yakṣa and yakṣiṇī. The anthropomorphic nāgarāja are depicted as standing human figures, their regal status denoted by a turban and their head protected by a polycephalous nāga hood that reveals their divine nature.12 The Mucalinda episode. The legend of Mucalinda is related in several Pāli and Sanskrit textual sources13 that differ in only a few details. They tell of a tree spirit, the nāgarāja named Mucalinda (or Mucilinda), who resides among the roots of the tree and who appeared during the sixth week14 of the meditation of the Buddha Śākyamuni following his enlightenment on the banks of the Narañjanā river at Uruvela, near Bodhgāya. The name Mucalinda or Mucilinda also designates the tree under which the Buddha was meditating, from the root word muc meaning liberation. Following that sixth week of meditation after his enlightenment, the Buddha endured tempests and heavy rains for seven days, with the nāga Mucalinda protecting the Buddha by winding itself around the Buddha’s body in seven coils15 — a possible allusion to the number of days—and erecting its hood above the Buddha’s head to protect him from the rain. At the end of the seventh day, the rain stopped and the nāga took a human form to listen to the first sermon of the Buddha. The Pāli sources speak of an enlarged or inflated nāga head, but Xuán Zàng relates that Mucalinda grew seven heads—the better to protect the Buddha. Other texts mention For example in Sāñcī, but also later in Amāravatī art and in Sri Laṅka during the early Anurādhapura period. 11 The role of relic protector is suggested in bas-reliefs on a stūpa slab from Amarāvatī where polycephalous, theriomorphic nāga are encircling a stūpa and other anthropomorphic nāga are worshipping in different postures; ill. in Bachhofer 1959, pl. 129. 12 One of the most famous is on a pillar of Bhārhut (the south corner jamb), ca. 100–80 BC, now in the Indian Museum, Kolkata; ill. in Huntington 1985, 67, fig. 5.12. 13 The Pāli sources include the Mahāvagga (part of the Vinaya piṭaka of the Pāli Canon [1st century BC]), Mucalinda suttam from the Udāna (Sutta piṭaka [1st BC]), and the Nidānakathā or life of the Buddha introducing the jāṭaka tales and probably more ancient than them. The Sanskrit sources include the Lalitavistara (Sanskrit + prakrit [1st AD]) and the Mahāvastu (hybrid Sanskrit [2nd–4th AD]). 14 Or fifth week (pañchame saptāhe), according to the Lalistara version. 15 “sattakhattuṁ bhogehi”; “saptakṛdbhogaiḥ pariveṣṭyā” (Lalitavistara). The seven coils are also quoted from Tibetan sources by W. W. Rockhill (Life of the Buddha, 1972 [repr.; orig. 1884], p. 35; as quoted in Misra 1982, 294 and note 4). 10

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

119

seven heads that were not specially produced for the occasion.16 The mention of seven heads in those recensions, which are from a later period, may have been inspired by images of nāga depicted with seven heads perhaps in substitution of seven coils that were not represented. Aniconic illustrations of the Mucalinda episode Two very ancient images—a roundel on a post of vedikā from Bhārhut17 (today in the Allahabad Museum) and a later bas-relief on a post from Pauni18 — illustrate the Mucalinda episode in aniconic art. They both depict a theriomorphic, five-hooded nāga, its coils encircling a cubic stone (an altar or a throne, perhaps the vajrāsana or adamantine throne of the Buddhas) with footprints under a bodhi tree, all obvious symbols of the Buddha. In both cases the association with the Mucalinda episode is confirmed by inscriptions in Brahmi script datable to the 2nd century BC.19 Later reliefs in aniconic art from Sāñcī dated to the Sātavāhana period (20 to 40 AD)20 represent a five-hooded, anthropomorphic nāgarāja holding a lotus in its right hand and sitting in the posture of royal ease or mahārājalilāsana, under a potted bodhi tree and an umbrella or chatra. Such a collection of symbols indicates the presence of the Buddha and is possibly a reference to the Mucalinda episode, although no inscription is available to confirm the meaning of the scene. In a frieze relief from Amarāvatī,21 several anthropomorphic nāgarāja are adoring the Buddha in the aniconic form of his footprints placed on a lotus that is protected by a theriomorphic, five-hooded nāga. Interestingly, this same frieze presents both theriomorphic and anthropomorphic nāgarāja as well as the Buddha in both aniconic and iconic forms. Similar scenes in South Indian art appear on bas-reliefs decorating elements of stūpa enclosures and stūpa face plates. One of them, from Amarāravatī, represents a seven-hooded anthropomorphic nāgarāja performing the añjali or gesture Watters 1904, vol. II, 128–129. Ill. in Chandra 1970, pl. IX, fig. 21. 18 Near Nagpur, Mahārāṣṭra, site excavated in 1969–70; ill. in Tokyo National Museum 2002, pl. 2. 19 “Mucilindo Nāgarāja Tiṣāsyā Benakaṭikāya dāndā” [Nāgarāja Mucilinda, gift from Tiṣyā, inhabitant of Benakaṭa] and “Mucarinda [sic] nāgo”. 20 On the northern pillar of the western toraṇa, southern face, Stūpa No. 1 of Sāñcī, today at the Sāñcī Museum; ill. in Rao 1984, pl. 59. An almost identical image is also found on the front face of the eastern pillar of the southern toraṇa of the same stūpa; ill. in Marshall and Foucher 1982, pl. XIX c. 21 Friezes from the inner enclosure of the Amarāvatī Great Stūpa, today in the Indian Museum, Kolkata; ill. in Ferguson 1971, pl. LXXXIII. 16 17

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

120

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

of respect to the Buddha’s footprints that are placed upon the three coils of his body.22 Interestingly, this last image can be considered the origin of Nāga-Buddha iconography, as the Buddha’s presence is symbolized by his footprints placed upon the nāga coils, which form a pedestal or seat. The nāgarāja may also be protecting the Buddha or performing the añjali to the Buddha who is represented in his aniconic form of a stūpa.23 In the absence of other elements such as the bodhi tree or inscriptions, it is unclear whether such scenes represent the Mucalinda episode or purely the Buddha’s charisma. Iconic illustrations of the Mucalinda episode and Nāga-Buddha The most ancient iconic representation of the Mucalinda story is a basrelief image on a schist plate from Gandhāra, currently located in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London.24 This image is a perfect illustration of the episode according to the texts, realistically depicting the Buddha under the bodhi tree with his body wrapped to the chin in the seven coils of the nāga. Bushes tossing in the wind suggest the tempest. This type of representation is rare and has no parallel or sequel in Indian art.25 It has been suggested that representation of the Buddha’s body covered by the nāga coils was considered inauspicious.26 The prototype of the Nāga-Buddha first appears in South Indian art of the Kṛṣṇa-Godavarī valley. These first Nāga-Buddha images show a Buddha in monastic robes seated on the coils of a nāga, whose polycephalous hood forms a canopy above the Buddha’s head that is reminiscent of the bodhi tree or umbrella in earlier aniconic images. Probably the most ancient image of the Nāga-Buddha comes from Nāgarjunakoṇḍa, in Āndhra Pradesh.27 It illustrates the Buddha dressed as a monk displaying the gesture of “granting the absence of fear” or abhayamudrā, placed in front of a nāga with a hood of seven equally sized heads in frontal view. Two coils and the tail of a nāga are represented under the Buddha’s legs and one more Now in the British Museum; ill. in Pal 2007, 58. A similar example is on display at the Madras Museum. Pal suggests that the lack of imagery signifying the idea of protection in this scene, as well as the presence of four secondary nāga or nāgī and other, adoring human figures, may indicate a secondary episode of the Buddha’s visit to Mucalinda’s subterranean abode during the fifth week after his enlightenment, as described by the Lalitavistara. 23 On a vedikā roundel from a railing crossbar of the outer enclosure of the Amarāvatī Great Stūpa (2nd century AD), today in the British Museum (BM2); ill. in Knox 1992, 85, pl. 27. 24 L. S. 179–1949; ill. in Pal 2007, fig. 7. 25 See note 1 of the present article for modern representation in Thai art. 26 Pal 2007, 54. 27 rd 3 century AD. Today in the Victoria and Albert Museum (I. M. 81-1936); ill. in Dupont 1959, fig. 522. 22

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

121

undulating coil is visible at his right side, a feature absent from later representations, possibly indicating the earliness of this image. The image may be interpreted as a Buddha image placed in front of a polycephalous, theriomorphic nāga. The abhayamudrā, although not a suitable convention for this episode of the meditation of the Buddha, is the standard gesture of the first iconic Buddha images in the contemporaneous art of Mathurā. The similarity with Mathurā images is here accentuated by the presence of the halo or prabhāmaṇḍala, partially visible behind the nāga hood. But other details of the Buddha figure in these first southern NāgaBuddha images—such as the form of the uṣṇīṣa, the robe with the right shoulder uncovered, the loose half-lotus posture or paryaṅkāsana with legs crossed at the ankles and one foot hanging forward—are in classic southern Amarāvatī style.28 In later southern images, the abhayamudrā is replaced by the dhyānamudrā or meditation gesture, more appropriate to the Mucalinda episode,29 and the nimbus or prabhāmaṇḍala appears less frequently. Such images vary in the number of the nāga coils and hoods,30 while the nāga body never appears beside the Buddha. The final stage of this evolution culminates in the classic image of the NāgaBuddha, a Buddha in meditation seated upon the nāga coils, which have taken the form of a throne. In the absence of any epigraphical evidence, the meaning of such Nāga-Buddha images is not entirely clear. In some instances it may indeed represent the Mucalinda episode; in most, however, the images could be interpreted as mere evocation of the proselytizing power of Śākyamuni over indigenous godlings. Besides the Mucalinda episode and their role as guardians of Buddhist relics, nāgarāja also appear in several jāṭaka stories. Furthermore, the depiction of nāga coils as a pedestal, or the interpretation of the coils as a throne for the Buddha that represents Mount Meru, transforms the Nāga-Buddha into a transcendental, cosmic Buddha.31 Other interpretations have been suggested as well.32 Anthropomorphic nāgarāja in northern India In South Indian art, nāgarāja appear in compositions associated with the Buddha (both represented in aniconic and iconic forms) seated on the coils of the nāga, which permits identification of such scenes as representations of the Buddha.

Dupont has classified southern Amāravatī style as type II b (1959, 252). For example, on a fragmentary plate from Goli, 3rd century AD, today in the Los Angeles Museum of Art (M.71.54); ill. in Pal 2007, 58, fig. 9. 30 Sometimes arranged in two rows, as in an image from the Great Stūpa of Amāravatī, today in the British Museum (BM70); ill. in Pal 2007, 60, fig. 11. 31 Pal 2007, 62. 32 Sharrock sees Vairocana in these Nāgārjunakoṇḍa images, on the grounds that the plate on the opposite face of the stūpa represents the Buddha in standing posture (personal communication). 28 29

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

122

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

However, in northern India independent images of anthropomorphic nāgarāja exist either on pillars as bas-reliefs or as independent sculptures in relief or in the round, some of which were found in independent sanctuaries.33 These images are dated from the Kuṣāṇa to the Gupta and Pāla periods, which shows the persistence of the type; most of them have been found in the Mathurā region, which had functioned as an important center of worship of local deities such as nāga and yakṣa since prehistoric times.34 Their religious affiliation is unclear; some authors35 have interpreted them as Hindu gods, while others as Buddhist.36 In any case, they appear mostly at Buddhist monastic sites, where they seem to have been worshipped as local protective deities by the faithful in need of succor and as protectors of the saṃgha.37 These anthropomorphic nāgarāja always wear a royal headdress or turban surmounted by a polycephalous nāga hood and are standing or sometimes sitting in mahārājalilāsana, as befits their royal status, with the undulating coils of the nāga body visible on both sides of the figure, a signature feature of northern nāgarāja.38 Of the early images, the right hand would hold a lotus, but later images would show one upraised in the abhaya gesture while the left hand would hold a water flask,39 originally an attribute of Maitreya or Vajrapāṇi.40 During the Gupta period the rosary (akṣamālā) held in the right hand became the second regular attribute of the nāgarāja.41 Such sculptures appear in the Nālandā region in the round or on votive tablets.

As, for example, the nāgarāja holding a lotus and with the left hand on the hip from Gulgaon, which has been found with a nāgī. See drawing in Misra 1982, pl. 34.5. 34 Sharma 2002, 9. 35 For example Sahai 1975, 86. 36 Misra 1982, 295–302. The shortcoming of Misra’s study, one of the first systematic studies of Nāga-Buddha and nāga figures, is that all nāga sculptures are confusingly named Mucalinda, even the nāgarāja from northern India which have obviously another meaning and whose names are sometimes inscribed on the sculpture confirming that they are not Mucalinda. 37 Huntington 1985, 247. 38 Note that the coils visible on the sides exist also in the Jain images of Tīrthaṅkara (Eilenberg 1996). 39 Sometimes interpreted as a fruit. 40 One of the most ancient images is a sculpture in the round from Nāgaurī, near Sāñcī (1st–2nd century AD) of a nāgarāja holding a kuṇḍikā, and a lotus, with a polycephalous nāga hood and spires visible on the sides. He is accompanied by his consort, a nāgī with a hood of only one nāga head; ill. in Misra 1982, pls. 34/6 a–b. Similar images have been found in the Mathurā and the Sāñcī region up to the 5th century AD. Some of them have name inscribed, such as the image from Huvishka’s monastery in Jamālpur near Mathurā, which is named Dadhikaraṇa. This image also has been found inside an independent sanctuary. 41 To this last stage belongs the stucco of the stūpa of Maniyār Math, Rajgir (Bihār). The inscriptions designate this ancient site as Maṇi-nāga, which is quoted in the Mahābhārata as a nāga worship center (Kuraishi 1951, 20–21). 33

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

123

The famous basalt statue in the round from Nālandā, dated to the first half of the 8th century AD, is sometimes mistakenly identified as a Mucalinda Buddha, but its royal attire and posture as well as the kuṇḍikā and akṣamālā indicate that it represented a nāgarāja.42 In several aṣṭamahāsthāna steles from Nālandā that represent the eight events in the Buddha’s life or eight pilgrimage places and have been dated to the early Pāla period,43 three small-sized Buddha or Jina images make an unusual appearance under the principal figure which is a Buddha performing the bhūmisparśamudrā or earth-touching gesture. The central figure of the trinity is a Buddha figure in dhyānamudrā under a three- or five-hooded nāga; its coils visible on either side; but the Buddha is not seated on them. So far no satisfactory explanation has been proposed for such a trinity, which in any case is a secondary element in those compositions.44 Although the images come from the Nālandā region, one of the most important centers of Mahāyāna Buddhism, these steles with their portrayal of the eight principal events in the Buddha’s life or pilgrimage places do not offer clues to any particular doctrinal affiliation. In summary, Buddhist nāga figures are represented in India in two ways. One is the Nāga-Buddha, with the Buddha seated on the coils of a nāga that form a pedestal or throne, with a polycephalous hood forming a halo around his head and no coils visible on the sides; that iconography is not found farther north than the Āndhra Pradesh region.45 The other is the anthropomorphic nāgarāja of northern India, a human figure in royal attire with a polycephalous nāga hood as a crown who is never seated upon the nāga coils; in such images, the nāga coils are Ill. in Paul 1995, pl. 9. Paul has identified this figure as Nāgārjuna, the founder of the Mādhyamaka, on the grounds that a second sculpture in the same material, size and style represents a feminine figure issuing from a vase, which according to Paul is a clear representation of the deified Prajñāpāramitā who was kept in a vase according to the Nāgārjuna legend. This identification was suggested by Hīrānansa Shāstri in 1919. Paul also based her identification on the Buddha’s attendants, who on other Pāla sculptures are identified by inscriptions as famous Mahāyāna philosophers regarded as Bodhisattva. Paul remarks that the akṣamāla seems to be inappropriate for a simple nāgarāja. However, it has become the regular attribute of the nāgarāja since the Gupta period (Paul 1995, 97–98). 43 Only four such images may exist: two are in the Nālandā Museum ([4–93] 10793 nn. 366/55; photograph in Paul 1995, pl. 71 and ASI 443/56[1]); one is in Berlin (bkp/Museum für Indische Kunst; photograph of a detail in Pal 2007, 61, fig.13), and a fourth was sold at Sotheby’s New York on 20 March 1997 (lot 28; photograph in Menzies 2001, 50–51). The present author gratefully acknowledges the valuable assistance of Claudine Bautze-Picron in providing information and copies from her personal collection regarding three of these illustrations. 44 Paul (1995, 97–98) suggests that 3 of the pañcajina are represented in these figures. The 2 stūpa that flank the principal image represent the 2 others. 45 A relief of the Nāga-Buddha also exists in cave 93 of Kanheri. It seems that only one bas-relief showing the Buddha protected by Mucalinda exists in Ājaṇṭā, in cave 5 (end of 5th century); quoted by various authors (see Sharma 1982, 295; and Mitra 1959). 42

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

124

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

visible on both sides, the signature feature of northern iconography. The evolution summarized here suggests that the invention of the Nāga-Buddha can be traced to southern India in the art of the Kṛṣṇa-Godavarī valley during the Ikṣvāku period, i. e., from the end of the 2nd to the 5th century AD. This latter iconography appears to have developed from the iconic Buddha in abhayamudrā (as it appeared first in the art of Mathurā), merged with a theriomorphic nāgarāja. These images appear on the bas-reliefs decorating stūpa elements and at least in some cases seem to represent the Mucalinda episode, although definitive epigraphic evidence is lacking. The northern nāgarāja are stylistic continuations of Mathurā and Gupta art, until the Pāla period, of the first anthropomorphic nāgarāja-guardians of the Śuṅga period. They do not depict Mucalinda protecting the Buddha, but are representations, sometimes erected in independent sanctuaries, of various nāgarāja and local protective deities serving as guardians of the saṃgha and Buddhist sacred places, and were worshipped as minor deities at the margins of Buddhist monasteries. Remarkably, no image of the Nāga-Buddha has been found in India as a sculpture in the round for worship, except for one that was discovered at Bodhgayā in northeastern India.46 This figure depicts the Buddha in deep meditation with eyes half-closed and hands in dhyānamudrā, seated in full lotus position, as in the style of the Sarnāth school, on the three coils of a nāga. The nāga hood has seven identical (although much abraded) heads arranged around a nimbus or prabhāmaṇḍala. The body of the nāga is visible as three undulating coils on each side of the Buddha. This statue has been dated from the 6th to 7th century (post-Gupta or pre-Pāla period). The posture of the Buddha seated on the coils—never depicted in northern India—along with the nāga coils visible at the sides (a typical feature of nāgarāja of northern India) may be a fusion of the two stylistic types and imply importation of an iconographical concept from the south, albeit executed according to local northern custom. This image could possibly have been worshipped in the Mucalinda sanctuary near the “dragon king” pool, quoted by Xuán Zàng.47 The Nāga-Buddha in Sri Lankan art In Sri Laṅka, both theriomorphic and anthropomorphic images of protective nāga or nāgarāja appear at the beginning of the Anurādhapura period on guard stones, marking the directional accesses of the stūpa or dagoba. These images clearly derive from an Āndhra Pradesh prototype.48 During the late Anurādhapura period

Today in the Indian Museum, Kolkata; ill. in Sen 2007 67, fig. 2. Watters 1904–05, Vol. II, 132–134. 48 See Von Shroeder 1990, for comparison of guard stones from Jetavana Thūpa, Anurādhapura Vihāra (p. 87, fig.13C and p. 85, fig.12E) with an Āndhra Pradesh prototype (p. 86, fig. 13A). 46 47

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

125

(6th to 8th centuries AD) the first Nāga-Buddha images49 appear as large-sized images fully in the round,50 the first evidence that such figures were being used for worship, an important development in Sri Laṅkan art. They seem to have originated from a South Indian prototype, while the rendition of the robe (without the typical folds of Amarāvatī art) denotes a later influence from Gupta or post-Gupta style.51 In these sculptures, the half-lotus position has become standard, but there are still variations in the number of nāga heads (from seven to nine) and coils (one to three). The position—in one image from Silā Cetiya, Mihintaḷē, whose nāga hood is missing—appears to have evolved from the loose half-lotus with crossed ankles, reminiscent of Amarāvatī art, to the full paryaṅkāsana, having one leg placed above the other, in the other such images. The halo remains in a single image (from Tirukkavi [Sēruvila]; figure 1), but is absent in all the others; this last image also includes seven nāga heads of equal size but only one nāga coil, which may be archaic as well. The number of coils has been reduced to three, while nine nāga heads becomes standard (images of Kantalē, and Maṅgala Rājamahāvihāra, Sēruvila (figure 2). The nāga heads are in frontal view, the central head proportionately larger in the later images. In all of them, the hood is rounded and placed above the shoulders. The statue from Sēruvilā, which shows a higher hood of nine heads with overlapping necks, three coils and a full paryaṅkāsana, seems to represent the final stage in the evolution. Notably, these Nāga-Buddha images are dated to the 8th century and to be found in limited numbers mainly at sites on the northeastern coast of the island. The provenance might suggest importation of a new iconography that perhaps corresponded to some novel text or concept with limited diffusion, specifically during the dominance of the Abhayagiri monastery, which had adopted tantric Buddhist practices and texts and received royal protection.

The most ancient representation of Nāga-Buddha found in Sri Lanka is probably a tablet, dated by Von Schroeder to the 5th–6th centuries, that shows a mature image of the Nāga-Buddha in dhyānamudrā without halo, in full paryaṅkāsana, and seven nāga heads. He has suggested that this piece may be an importation from Āndhra Pradesh and a possible link between the art of southern India and Sri Lanka. (1990, 130 and pl. 27A). According to Dupont (1959, 254) stylistic details of the robe preclude consideration of an Āndhra Pradesh origin. 50 In the so-called “dolomite marble” of Von Schroeder. This group consist of 5 images from Silā Cetiya (Mihintaḷē), Tirukkavi or Maṅgala Rājamahāvihāra (Sēruvila), Kantalē (in Trincomalee National Museum), and Maṅgala Rājamahāvihāra (Sēruvila) which are reproduced in Von Shroeder 1990, 130 (figs. 27F, 27B, 27D, 27E). The 3rd and the 2nd are also reproduced in Dupont 1959 (figs. 525 and 526, resp.). The 5th from Konväva is also reproduced in Dupont 1959 (fig. 527). A small and most amazing metal image found at Seruvila represents a Nāga-Buddha protected by nāga hood of only one head (not published). 51 Dupont 1959, 259. 49

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

126

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

The Nāga-Buddha in Dvāravati art The collection of Nāga-Buddha images that have survived in Thailand from the Dvāravatī period consists of (a) one stucco fragment from U-Thong, (b) three sandstone bai sema from the northeast, (c) a group of four independent stone images in high relief with a slab backing, (d) one fragment of a stone statue in the round, (e) the stucco decoration of the final phase of the Phra Prathon Chedi of Nakhon Pathom that was excavated by Dupont between 1939 and 1940, and (f) perhaps a dozen terracotta votive tablets found in the excavation of a Dvāravatī-period stūpa near ancient Nakhon Champasi in the district of Na Dun, Mahāsārakham province, excavated by the Thai Fine Arts Department in 1979. (a) The stucco fragment from U-Thong, probably part of a decoration of the stūpa face, shows the lower part of a Buddha seated in meditation on three nāga coils. This fragment may be the most ancient of Nāga-Buddha images in Thailand, having survived for so long possibly because of the relative remoteness of its provenance. The ankles are crossed in archaic fashion, one foot hanging forward, an Amarāvatī characteristic. However, the fragmentary condition of this piece yields little other information. (b) Three bai sema stones or steles found in Muang Fa Daed and Ban Nong Han in northeastern Thailand display bas-relief scenes on their face that most probably illustrate the Mucalinda episode.52 The best-preserved of them is stele No. 504/2517 from Muang Fa Daed, on exhibit at Mahawitawong Museum in Khon Kaen (figure 3). The Buddha makes the gesture of teaching or vitarkamudrā53 and is seated in loose paryaṅkāsana with crossed ankles upon the four coils of a nāga, whose five-hooded canopy extends above his head. A bodhi tree is visible above the nāga hood, a symbol of the Mucalinda episode. Furthermore, a figure in royal attire and a second figure in añjalimudrā, possibly the donor or commissioner of the piece,54 are seen in the foreground. The royal figure might be Mucalinda appearing in human form to listen to the first sermon of the Buddha, an identification that would be consistent with the teaching gesture of the Buddha. Thus two moments in the Mucalinda episode would have been represented in the same scene. The crossed ankles, the presence of a halo between the Buddha’s head and the nāga hood, the five heads, and the vitarkamudrā (possibly derived from the abhayamudrā), seem to point to the archaic features already noted for South Indian art. The second of these bai sema, a much-abraded stone slab from Muang Fa Daed, also depicts a Buddha

Ill. in Murphy (forthcoming). Or vyākhyānamudrā (teaching gesture) according to Pal (2007, 54), rather than the abhayamudrā. 54 According to Pal (2007, 55), the donor and the goddess Dharaṇī. 52 53

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

127

in vitarka or vyākhyānamudrā, seated on the coils of a nāga with eight hoods and attended by a royal figure, but without a bodhi tree. The last of these bai sema, found in Ban Nong Han, is similar to the second one but has neither attendant nor bodhi tree. All three bai sema have been dated to the 8th or 9th century by Stephen Murphy, who suggests that they may be the work of different sculptors.55 (c) The next example of Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha images consists of four stone images in high relief on a slab approximately 80 cm tall. Dupont has classified them in the S1 group.56 The most ancient of them is probably the image from Muang Fai in Buriram province, retrieved in 1967 from a looting at the site of this ancient Dvāravatī-period city. It has been dated to the 7th century by M. C. Subhadradis Diskul (1971, 32–35). The ankles are crossed in an archaic, South Indian mode, but without halo, and the nāga hood has seven heads, the norm in this group of stone sculptures. Each of the nāga heads has the remarkably novel feature of a small protuberance instead of a small lotus or cakra-style circle;57 being the first appearance of what would later become an iconographical characteristic. The second image in this group, found at Si Mahosot in Prachinburi province (figure 4), depicts the Buddha seated with legs crossed at the ankles, but no nāga coils, and cakra-style circles at the top of each head of the nāga hood (except for the central head which is missing). This image features the novelty of two tapered, votive stūpa or stūpakumbha flanking the Buddha figure, possibly in imitation of an Indian stele or images on votive tablets, which may symbolize the Buddhas of the past and the future. Diskul (1971, 34) dated it to the 9th or 10th century because the robe shows some Pāla features. The third sculpture comes from Wat Pradhu Songtham at Ayuthaya (figure 5), but its real provenance may have been in Prachinburi as with figure 4. The figure is seated in the classic paryaṇkāsana mode with one leg above the other and is flanked by two stūpa.58 Additional differences in iconographical features include protuberances above the nāga heads, two small stūpa bearers, the kāla face placed at the base of the sculpture, and the lotus bud finial on top of the uṣṇīṣa. Furthermore, the three nāga coils appear to be arranged in ascending order of magnitude like the

Murphy (forthcoming). Dupont 1959, 255. 57 The circles or disks may also be observed on the tablet from Sri Lanka, which purportedly is an import from Āndhra Pradesh (see note 49 of the present article). 58 A votive tablet or seal belonging to the Toshio Kawamura collection, on display at the Fukuoka Museum (2008, 12, no. 7), reproduces the Wat Pradhu Songtham image in every detail. Its similarity with the latter and, indeed, the appropriateness of the scaling of the compositional elements for such an object, suggest that the model or a source of inspiration for the Ayutthaya image could have been a votive tablet. 55 56

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

128

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

inverted pyramid that is later to mark classic Khmer art of the Angkor Wat period. Both sides of the figure are hidden by the stūpa bearers and hardly visible. This sculpture seems to represent the final stage in iconographic evolution; Diskul (1971, 34) has dated it from the 10th to 11th century.59 In all these images, the nāga hood displays seven heads in frontal view, which has become the norm. The nāga necks overlap each other, in effect forming a protective hood and creating an undulating effect that is also found in the Lopburi fragment and in Sri Lankan Nāga-Buddha images. In such examples, the central head tends to be larger and the simian character of faces is relatively pronounced. An image from Nakhon Si Thammarat that Dupont included in his Dvāravatī 60 study strikingly resembles the Ayuthaya image; it also exhibits two stūpa bearers and small protuberances on its nāga heads. However, its heavily re-stuccoed and re-lacquered state, as well as its discovery very far from Dvāravatī sites in central Thailand, call for caution before attributing a Dvāravatī provenance to this image. Its four nāga coils are thick, the three lowest possibly being later additions to a figure that originally might have had only one or no coil at all, like the Si Mahosot image. The only image in the round is a fragment of a Buddha head with seven nāga hoods, found in Lopburi (figure 6). Like the Ayuthaya image, it sports protuberances above the nāga heads. The nāga necks are smooth and bordered with two plain strips without the usual horizontal ribs.61 The uṣṇīṣa has no lotus bud. Unfortunately little else remains for analysis. The chief characteristics of these images—their size, stone material (not easily available), and their form as a relief on a slab, or in the round—suggests that they were images for worship, placed either in vihāra or cellae against stūpa structures, and not merely scenes of the Buddha’s life decorating the monuments, as is the case with Indian art. (e) The stucco Nāga-Buddha images from the third phase of the Phra Prathon Chedi, where the original five standing Buddha images of each face of the base have been replaced by two Nāga-Buddha images,62 alternating with three Buddha images seated with legs pendant. The presence of the archaic feature of the prabhāmaṇḍala

Comparison with later images from northeastern Thailand and from Cambodia, examined hereafter, suggests an earlier date. 60 Dupont 1959, 255–257. Repr. in Vol. 2, fig. 497. 61 Feature reminiscent of the first Khmer Nāga-Buddha images (see below). Perhaps this image should be dated to the 10th century. 62 Dupont 1959, 74. Three of these Nāga-Buddha were effectively recovered: one in the 2nd niche of the northwest face and two others in the 2nd and 4th niches of the southwest face. Dupont suggested that the monument, being symmetrical, might have had other, similar figures in the remaining niches. 59

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

129

between the Buddha’s head and nāga hood is noteworthy.63 The number of coils exceeds six, presumably in order to fill the lower space of the niche, so no special meaning should be attributed to their number. The number of nāga heads, supposedly five or seven, could not be determined with certainty during excavation because of the ruined condition of the stucco. According to Dupont, the details of the monastic garment, although not clear on the very abraded surface of the stucco, showed a robe with right shoulder uncovered. Interestingly, this stucco decoration belongs to the final phase of this monument of Nakhon Pathom, a city that supposedly developed during the late Dvāravatī period, implying the late appearance of this new iconography. N. Revire suggests64 suggests that this monument may have been built or refurbished after some Mahāyānic iconographic concept, since the figure of the Buddha seated with legs pendant is not part of the ancient Theravāda tradition but found mainly in a Mahāyānic context in India, China and Java. The collection of Nāga-Buddha images from the Dvāravatī period is completed with a series of votive tablets from Na Dun65 that M. L. Pattaratorn Chirapravati dates from the 9th to 11th centuries AD.66 Interestingly one of the tablets shows a Nāga-Buddha in Māravijaya mudrā.67 Some experts have suggested68 that the Nāga-Buddha of Dvāravatī originated in Sri Lanka, the only place where similar Buddhas appear as images for worship from the 7th to 8th centuries. Two considerations argue against an imported prototype from Sri Lanka, however. First, while Sri Lanka seems to be the origin of NāgaBuddha images in the round, most of them have a nine-headed nāga hood that never appears in Dvāravatī sculpture. Second, Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha bai sema, as well as the stucco from U-Thong, bear archaic features such as the five-headed nāga hood and vitarkamudrā (possibly derived from the abhayamudrā of the earlier NāgaBuddha) that do not appear with Sri Lankan Nāga-Buddha images, paryaṅkāsana with legs crossed at the ankles, haloes, and other features also observed in some of the later Dvāravatī stone images. Such features bespeak an Indian origin or direct influence from Āndhra Pradesh, as P. Pal has suggested.69 While no Nāga-Buddha as images for worship Dupont (1959, 75, 258) insists twice on the presence of a halo that he could observe during the excavation. 64 Revire 2008. See also article in the present issue of JSS (No. 98, 2010). 65 Illustrations of 6 of these tablets in Veraprasert 1995, 228–230, figs. 8, 9, 11. 66 According to Chirapravati (1997, 25–26), the votive tablets found at this site could be assigned to three periods; the Nāga-Buddha tablets belong to the second, on the grounds that they show “treatment of Khmer themes in a Dvāravatī style”. 67 Veraprasert 1995, 222–235. A few rare Nāga-Buddhas in māravijayamudrā are evident in the Buddha of Grahi and in later images from Burma. 68 Dupont 1959, 258–259; Woodward 2007, 72; Sharrock 2006, 124. 69 Pal 2007, 57. 63

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

130

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

have yet been found in southern India, the stone statues of Dvāravatī show the possibility of stylistic borrowing from votive tablets,70 suggested by the presence of the two stūpakumbha flanking the Buddha as well as the very shape of those sculptures. The invention of the concept of a Nāga-Buddha as an independent object of worship, at least in this case, could be attributed to local Dvāravatī ingenuity and not to a Sri Lankan prototype. Nevertheless, the full paryaṅkāsana and the bared right shoulder, while typical of Amāravatī style but admixed with the post-Gupta feature of a smooth fabric surface that appears in the late Anurādhapura period, hint of a Sri Lanka origin. The Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha, presenting such a mixture of archaic features from southern India and more evolved features observable in Sri Lankan art, may thus be thought to have received different influences from the two regions at different periods. The importation of an early Sri Lankan prototype, before the generalization of the nine hoods, could account for the absence of such a feature in Dvāravatī art. Finally, a votive tablet found in Krabi71 with a Nāga-Buddha in vitarkamudrā could be evidence of transmission of an iconographical concept as well, or a new textual tradition, through the peninsular region. In conclusion, the stylistic evolution of the series of Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha images is in itself noteworthy, as apart from the innovative ingenuity of Dvāravatī craftsmen that is revealed in the introduction of the stūpa bearers and the simian character of nāga heads. The Nāga-Buddha in Khmer art After a long absence in the Khmer kingdom, Buddha images reappeared in the second half of the 10th century.72 Interestingly, almost all of them represent the Nāga-Buddha, which become the main representation of the Buddha during the Angkor period. They belong to Mahāyāna Buddhism, and since the last 20 years, researchers such as C. Prapandvipa, H. Woodward, W. Lobo and P. Sharrock73 have shown that it is of Vajrayānic denomination.

See note 58 of the present article. Dated to the 4th–6th centuries by Diskul, who suggests a South Indian origin (1990, 5), and to the th 7 century by Chirapravati (1999, 81). 72 Inscription of Vat Sithor (K. 111, 980 AD), st. XXVII: “Nairātmyacittmātrādidarśanārkkas tiraskṛtaḥ mithyādṛṣṭiniśā yasmin bhūvo dina ivāvabhan” [by him (the minister Kīrtipaṇḍita) the sunlight of the doctrines of nairātmyā, citta and other (Buddhist) doctrines which had been eclipsed by the night of false teachings, were shining once more as daylight]; tr. from Cœdès (1954, 205) by the present author. 73 Prapandvipa 1990; Woodward 1981, 2004 and 2007; Lobo 1997c; Sharrock 2006. 70 71

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

131

Dupont,74 60 years ago in his investigation of the Nāga-Buddha in Khmer art, distinguished several groups of Khmer Nāga-Buddha images: the first (“catégorie I”) that includes the most archaic images (from the second half of the 10th to the beginning of the 11th century), the second (“catégorie II”) that regroups the bejeweled images of the Angkor Wat style (first half of the 12th century), and the third (“catégorie III”) that includes the Buddha images without jewels or regalia of the Baphuon style (second half of 11th century AD). Dupont alternatively named these two last groups, respectively, “Khmer images” and “Indian images”, since the images of group II—of the bare-chested Buddha with royal ornaments—would be a Khmer reinvention of the Buddha image based on the imitation of Brahmanical statues, while the images of group III—showing a monkish, unadorned Buddha— would have come from a copy of a misunderstood Indian model, with a few incongruous details such as incoherent representation of the monastic upper garment as well as a beard and moustache, betraying a Brahmanical influence. The artists may have been unused to Buddhist iconographic rules after a century and a half of disruption in Buddhist statuary production. Dupont also included the Bàyon style images in his last category, from which they stylistically derive. Mutual influences and borrowings can be observed in groups II and III, which also seem to overlap chronologically, suggesting that the two types were contemporaneous. Nāga-Buddha “missing links” from northeastern Thailand A few images of the Nāga-Buddha from northeastern Thailand have recently come into private collections that seem to qualify as examples of Dupont’s “missing link” between the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha and the Khmer Nāga-Buddha of catégorie I. A small stone Nāga-Buddha at the Norton Simon Museum75 shows a Buddha meditating in vajrāsana under three nāga hoods in frontal view. The base on which the Buddha is seated may be a single nāga coil. Although in poor condition, the sculpture shows a protuberance above the central nāga head and a lotus bud finial on top of the conical uṣṇīṣa that appear on later Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha images. A prabhāmaṇḍala is visible between the Buddha’s head and the nāga hood. What remains of the robe indicates that it may have covered both shoulders.76 The position

Dupont 1950, 39–66. His L’archéologie mône de Dvāravatī includes a comprehensive stylistic study of the Nāga-Buddha (1959, 251–266) that examines the link between the Dvāravatī and Khmer images, which he had neglected in his previous study. Notwithstanding, he remains inconclusive about a possible Mon or Sri Lanka origin of the Khmer Nāga-Buddha. 75 In the Norton Simon Museum. Ill. in Pal 2007, 54, figs. 2, 3, 16. 76 According to Sen’s observation (2007, 65). 74

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

132

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

of the nāga necks, forming a back support visible on both sides of the Buddha, and the stepped heads are reminiscent of a Nāga-Buddha statue from the central pit of Angkor Wat that Dupont classified in group I.77 P. Pal has tentatively dated it to the late 9th century.78 Besides the unusual feature of three hoods, the vajrāsana and the robe draped over both shoulders (if confirmable) betoken a northern Indian influence since they have rarely if ever been seen in Dvāravatī and Khmer images. A bronze Nāga-Buddha image, probably also from northeastern Thailand and today in the Walters Art Museum of Baltimore,79 shows a Buddha meditating in a loose lotus position under a seven-hooded nāga. The scales on the rectangular base appear to constitute a single nāga coil. The necks of the nāga are distinctly separate. The treatment of its smiling heads seen in frontal view is very close to that of the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha; the difference here is a crest of foliate design that surrounds each hood. A disk at the juncture of the nāga heads is visible behind the Buddha’s head but does not encircle the head as a prabhāmaṇḍala. The conical uṣṇīṣa, with a jewel or lotus finial, is very similar to that of the image in the Norton Simon Museum. An anomalous moustache reminiscent of the Baphuon NāgaBuddha adorns the Buddha’s face, and the uttarasaṅga visible on the chest leaves the right shoulder bare. It has been dated to the 10th century by H. Woodward.80 A visual link between the sculptures described here and the Nāga-Buddha of the Baphuon period is a bronze piece from the private collection of Aziz Bassoul.81 A bare-chested Buddha is meditating in paryaṅkāsana on three coils of nāga, with seven separated necks and hoods crowned by a foliate wreath or crest that are very similar to those in the previous piece. However, here the heads of the nāga, three to each side of the central head, are turned slightly upward and the hood is markedly triangular in shape that is to become the norm in later Angkorian Nāga-Buddha images. No halo or disk is apparent. This piece is dated to the Baphuon period, as it shares its stylistic characteristics; but the presence of the foliate crests surrounding the nāga hoods indicates an earlier date and inclusion in the same group. The foliate crest seems to betoken the final stage in the evolution of circle or disk motif above nāga heads in some Nāga-Buddha images from Sri Lanka and Dvāravatī. The device became transformed into a protuberance in later Dvāravatī sculpture. It may also be interpreted as an influence of contemporaneous Khmer art. In these last two images, a marked fold or line at the waist denotes the antaravāsaka, a feature that later became a standard element in Khmer images. It

Dupont 1950, figs. 2–3. Pal 2007, 57. 79 Ill. in Woodward 1997, 53, pl. 45. 80 Woodward 1997, 72. 81 Bassoul 2006, 233 fig. 88. 77 78

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

133

is supposed to have been derived from stucco Dvāravatī Buddha images,82 although the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha seldom exhibits such a feature (excepting the Muang Fai image). These last two iconographically resemble other images that Dupont included in his catégorie I. The Angkor Nāga-Buddha To Dupont’s catégorie I belong several early representations of Nāga-Buddha carved in bas-relief on the so-called caitya shrines or Buddhist monuments,83 square boundary stones or steles found in Banteay Meanchey province, Cambodia and Thailand.84 The stele faces represent alternative arrangements of the Khmer Mahāyānic Triad deities (Buddha, Lokeśvara, and Prajñāpāramitā [Tārā?], or Vajrapāṇi) depicted in their different forms. Two of the caitya have a Nāga-Buddha on one face. One caitya, the Thma Puok caitya, bears an inscription, K. 225,85 with a date of 989 AD that consequently dates the whole group and whose contents confirm the Mahāyānic (and even tantric) character of the compositions. The caitya from Kbak Yeay Yin (Phnom Srok, in Banteay Meanchey), today displayed in Musée Guimet in Paris,86 shows on one of its faces a Buddha in dhyānamudrā seated on two thick coils of a seven-hooded nāga. The nāga has long, slightly overlapping, smooth necks. The hoods are arranged in a triangular fashion, as in the two bronze statuettes described above. The hoods in frontal view are crowned by the kind of foliate motif or crest observed in the previously studied pieces. The Buddha headdress with its conical uṣṇīṣa and lotus bud finial is also very similar, but here a small strip marks the hairline as in the later Baphuon pieces.87 One other stele or caitya has been discovered in Thailand, of unknown provenance, and is on display at the National Museum, Bangkok88(figure 7). Flat and rectangular, it bears a Nāga-Buddha on its main face, seated on three thick,

Dupont 1959, 262, 264–265. The so-called caitya shrines belong to a group of 6 from Thma Puok and Phnom Srŏk that were first examined in 1921 by L. Finot (1925, 251–254), who coined the term “caitya” in the process. Lobo (1997a, 142) has interpreted these objects as stūpa with their 3 distinctive parts—the square base, the 4-faced body and the upper dome or uppermost 8 faces that end in a lotus—as representing, respectively, the phenomenal world, the means to attain nirvāṇa and the dharmadhātu. The 16 petals of the lotus motif on the upper part would represent the 16 vacuities of Vajrayāna Buddhism. 84 Two of them are displayed at the National Museum of Bangkok. They are of unknown provenance but most probably come from Prachinburi province. 85 Cœdès 1951, 66–69. 86 MG 17487. Ill. in Baptiste and Zéphir 2008, 185 (catalogue 52). 87 Boisselier (1955, 45) has dated this piece to the Kleang style on the basis of the stylistic details of the monk garment. 88 In the South wing; LB 12-2475. 82 83

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

134

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

scaly coils and protected by seven nāga hoods with smooth, separated necks that show the foliate crest, very similar to the Guimet piece. The Buddha has the same conical uṣṇīṣa with a lotus bud finial, but no strip along the hairline. According to H. Woodward, it should date to the middle of the 10th century.89 The three coils of the nāga would also indicate a slightly later date than the previous caitya. Another important sculpture is the Kuk Trong stone Nāga-Buddha found at Angkor Thom and classified in catégorie I.90 It has a five-headed nāga hood also with foliate crests and only one coil, archaic features which suggest that it belongs among the same group. The presence of small disks (cakra) or stylized lotus motifs on the nāga necks is a significant innovation that becomes a distinguishing characteristic in later Khmer Nāga-Buddha. From the 11th century, three coils and seven hoods become the norm for the Khmer Nāga-Buddha, while the foliate crests crowning the nāga hoods disappear. An intermediate stage could be Dupont’s figure 5, whose nāga has only one coil and seven hoods but no crest and still arranged in a stepped fashion. The nāga hoods with their overlapping necks come to form a single unit that increasingly takes the shape of a tapered bodhi tree leaf in which the lateral heads turn upward to the central one. Cakra motifs on nāga necks have become a constant. The Nāga-Buddha of the Baphuon period (Dupont’s catégorie III) depicts an unadorned Buddha seated on three nāga coils of equal size. They exhibit two alternative types of headdresses: either bulging with small curls and a slightly swollen uṣṇīṣa, or plaited hair with a conical chignon-cover borrowed from Brahmanical sculptural vocabulary. The appearance of moustache and beard, as well as anomalies in the rendition of the robe (no diagonal line depicting the uttarasaṅga, but adherence of the left arm to the body that implies a robe with the right shoulder uncovered) suggest the imitation of an imported model misinterpreted by craftsmen used to working principally with Hindu statuary. During the Mahīdharapura dynasty (Sūryavarman II, Angkor Vat period, first half of the 12th century), a new image appears, the Angkor Wat Nāga-Buddha (catégorie II), a crowned, bare-chested Buddha. This new type exhibits two important innovations: the images are heavily adorned with bejeweled regalia consisting of at least a crown, a diadem and earrings, and sometimes even with full regalia; the Buddha is also seated on three nāga coils of ascending width in the shape of an inverted pyramid. The knees tend to be larger than the superior nāga coil, accentuating the inverted pyramidal shape, which is perhaps an evocation of Mount Meru to emphasize the cosmic character of the

Woodward (2007, 77–78) has analyzed the iconographical content of the two caitya as illustrations of the Garbhadhātu Maṇḍala of the Mahāvairocanasūtra. 90 Dupont 1950, 45, fig. 4. 89

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

135

Buddha.91 The nāga heads are turned inward and upward in a hood that resembles an elongated bodhi tree leaf. The Bàyon Nāga-Buddha During the reign of Jayavarman VII (1181–1220 AD, Bàyon period), who converted the state religion from Śivaism to Vajrayāna Buddhism, the Nāga-Buddha became the supreme deity. A gigantic Nāga-Buddha was placed in the central cella of the Bàyon state temple, the sacred center of the empire, identifying it with the king himself. Stylistically the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha appears to have derived from the Baphuon prototype, its greater precision in depicting robe and hair could indicate an improved iconographic knowledge from new images or texts by craftsmen who otherwise would follow the general stylistic features of the previous period. The three Bàyon nāga coils were of equal size, just as those of the Baphuon style were, but the nāga hood has become rounder and lower, resembling a tree leaf with a shriveled edge. Differences in the uṣṇīṣa characterize several subtypes that evolved during Jayavarman VII’s reign and his successor’s, as hundreds of images were produced. While most of the larger stone Nāga-Buddha images are without jewels or regalia,92 or display only earrings and a conical tiered chignon-cover, the smaller bronze images (either individual or components of triads or more complex arrangements) are always crowned and diademed, in some instances fully bejeweled like the Angkor Wat images. Most metal images of the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha bear a small object on the right palm, with their hands placed on their lap in the gesture of meditation, sometimes with the right middle finger upraised (figure 8).93 Such objects, which never appear in stone images whose hands are only adorned with the lotus-cakra symbol, take different forms and have been variously identified as boxes, water flasks, relic-caskets or lotus buds, among other objects.94 They might even be understood as the medicine box or myrobalan fruit, an attribute of Bhaiṣajyaguru,95

Pal 2007, 62. Some of the bigger sculptures are presumed to have been decorated with removable jewelry, where incised holes or grooves are evident along the hairline (Boisselier 1966, 275, para. 192; Zéphir in Baptiste and Zéphir 2008, 273, 276). 93 Mudrā specific to the Buddha of Healing Bhaiṣajyaguru in certain traditions (Birnbaum 1980, 82–83). 94 Boisselier (1966, 301) tentatively suggests Amitābha for the Nāga-Buddha holding an object on their lap. Indeed, Amitābha in China and Tibet ordinarily holds a bowl full with amṛta (water of immortality). The normal mudrā of Amitābha is the meditation gesture, common to the Nāga-Buddha. 95 Sharrock (2006, 72) follows this interpretation. 91 92

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

136

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

the Buddha of Healing who was the central deity of the hospital chapels built by Jayavarman VII throughout his empire. This interpretation has been rejected96 on various grounds. In any case, the Buddha of Healing has no connection with the nāga in any of the known texts or iconographical traditions. Two iconographically distinct types of Bàyon Nāga-Buddha images thus exist: (a) unadorned images and (b) smaller images with regalia and an object on their lap—or even (c) a third type having the further distinction of partial regalia (the crowned figures) and full regalia (fully bejeweled and crowned figures). The distinctions suggest that the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha might have a double or versatile identity.97 The identity of the deity represented by the Khmer Nāga-Buddha, which becomes the supreme Buddha of Jayavarman VII’s state religion, remains unclear, despite the abundant literature that Jayavarman’s brand of Buddhism inspired. The Mucalinda episode, never quoted in the inscriptions, should be rejected as the main meaning. The various identifications98 suggested for this figure, as well as a range Boisselier (1966, 301) tentatively identified as Bhaiṣajyaguru the so-called Vajradhara images that hold a kind of flask or box in their hands at chest level and are found in a few hospital chapels of Thailand (Ku Khanthanam [Roi-et], Prang Ku [Nakhon Rachasima] and Ban Samo [Sisaket]). Phiromanukul (2004, 42–43) upholds this identification on the grounds that no images of the Nāga Buddha have been found so far in the hospital chapels. Furthermore, Phiromanukul identifies Bhaiṣajyaguru’s two acolytes in the four-armed figures previously identified as Lokeśvara, on the grounds that they have no image of Amitābha on their head and hold a small object. Phiromanukul also remarks that the triads with the central Nāga-Buddha holding an object could not represent the Bhaiṣajyaguru triads because Bhaiṣajyaguru does not have a female acolyte. More recently, in an intervention at the 2nd Banteay Chhmar Conference in Sisophon, Woodward offered a novel interpretation of a bronze image that was recently for sale in New York and that shows a central crowned figure holding a vajraghanta in front of its chest, flanked by two identical figures each holding an object in front of its chest, similar to those that Phiromanukul had identified as Bhaiṣajyaguru. Woodward identified this triad as Bhaiṣajyaguru flanked by his acolytes (Sūryavairocana and Candravairocana), instead of the expected Vajradhara flanked by two Bhaiṣajyaguru. Woodward’s assessment relies mainly on a single piece of unknown provenance, whose authenticity may be not certain (Woodward 2009). 97 And perhaps not always Buddhist. See Cœdès 1989a, 348 and Maxwell 2007, 109. 98 One identification, proposed by Diskul and other Thai scholars, is that the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha is the Ādi-Buddha, the transcendental Buddha of the Mahāyāna. This proposal rests mainly on a single text by Cœdès, Phraphim nai Prathet Thai (Tablettes votives du Siam), incidentally the only extant text that he wrote in Thai, that the present author consulted in photocopied form in the library of Silpakorn University, Bangkok. This ephemeral publication is the text of a conference and bears no date; the library catalogue gives 1925 as the year of publication. Most of its substance was taken from “Bronzes Khmers” that he published in 1923. Mus (1928, 156–159) rejected such an identification on the grounds that the Nāga-Buddha triad appears much earlier than the Ādi-Buddha concept. In later texts, Cœdès never repeats the Ādi-Buddha identification, but identifies the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha as the Buddharāja (1989b, 319). The same Thai scholars propose no alternative to the Ādi-Buddha for the deity. The Ādi-Buddha is without form, rather being manifested in the form of other deities such as Samantabhadra, Vajradhara or Vajrasattva, among others, in the various Tantra traditions that adopted 96

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

137

of additional meanings for the nāga,99 do not correspond to any known iconography in other Vajrayāna Buddhist traditions. The Vajarayāna Buddhism of Jayavarman VII, on the other hand, bespeaks a very good knowledge of the texts, judging by the content of the inscriptions and the iconographical accuracy of the other deities of the Vajrayāna pantheon. The Nāga-Buddha has also been considered a Khmer invention, related to the local legend of the Nāgī and to a hypothetical local nāga worship.100 Notwithstanding, images of Buddha seated on nāga existed earlier in India, where they originated, as well as in Sri Lanka and Dvāravatī. This iconography could well have appealed to the ancient Khmers because of its resonance with indigenous beliefs, which may have been the main motivation for its adoption. The bigger Nāga-Buddha images of the Bàyon and other temples are generally considered to be the apotheosis or vraḥ rūpa of the king, whose features would be depicted on the Nāga-Buddha’s face, thus identifying the king as a Buddharāja.101The supposed resemblance to the king, known by his portrait-statues, is nonetheless problematic.102 Most of the smaller images of the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha appear as the central element of the Khmer Mahāyānic Triad where it is flanked by a four-armed Lokeśvara and Prajñāpāramitā. The representation of some images of the Mahāyānic Triad in different arrangements or combinations of figures suggests that they were the Ādi-Buddha concept. Vajrasattva and Vajradhara have a well-known and specific iconography in Bàyon art (perhaps not so well known, according to Woodward [2009; see note 96 of the present article]). The term Ādi-Buddha has never been confirmed in inscriptions; some scholars have recognized it on the Sab Bāk inscription (l. 23; Prapandvipa 1990), but that interpretation has been rejected by Sharrock (2006). Sharrock has also proposed (2006, 33–34, 55, 73–74) the identification of the Bàyon Nāga-Buddha with Vairocana or Mahāvairocana, the central deity of the two main maṇḍala of the yoga-tantra on the grounds that the repartition of both Hindu and Buddhist deities in the Bàyon temple is reminiscent of these maṇḍala. However, the nāga and the dhyānamudrā are not depicted with the classic iconography for Vairocana in this tradition, although the dragon (=nāga) sometimes substitutes for the normal vehicle of Mahāvairocana, the lion, and Mahāvairocana sometimes presents the dhyānamudrā in certain maṇḍala (Sharrock 2006, 34, note 67). Woodward has suggested that the caitya or stele of the National Museum, Bangkok (LB12-2475) represents the structure found in the Mahāvairocanasūtra and the Garbhadhātu Maṇḍala (2007, 78). 99 Such as symbolizing the rainbow uniting the world of men with the world of Gods or Buddhas (Mus, for example), symbolism that is also part of the Nāga-Buddha iconography. See also Lobo 1997b. 100 Groslier 1973, 298. 101 Cœdès 1937, 274, 276 102 Dagens (2000) and Sharrock (2007, 244) suggest that the features of the Bàyon period are very stereotyped and it would be hazardous to see the king’s features in the Nāga-Buddhas. Suksavasti (2530, 69 and 2531, 112) suggests that the king’s features are represented not only on the portrait statues, but also on the Bàyon and other state temples’ Nāga-Buddhas as well as in two Buddha statues found in Phimai and Say Fong. The Nāga-Buddha, according to this interpretation, would be the king divinized during his lifetime as a Buddha-Rāja, and the last two Buddhas (without nāga) would represent the king divinized after his death. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

138

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

seen as the apotheoses or posthumous images (vraḥ rūpa) of those who dedicated them, accompanied by their parents or guru,103 as confirmed by the so-called small inscriptions on the door jambs of the private chapels (cellae or kuṭi) of the great temples where those images were. Indigenous ancestor worship thus seems to have become incorporated into Mahāyāna Buddhism. The Mahāyānic Triad also appears to have become associated with such tantric deities as Hevajra, Saṁvara and others not always easily identifiable in the complex arrangements on moulds and seals (votive tablets; see figure 9104 ) that exemplify Khmer ingenuity. Symbolically, the Nāga-Buddha is always at the top of such arrangements, signifying his supremacy in this tantric system. A Dvāravatī link? Most of the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha images have been found in the eastern and northeastern regions of Thailand where a Khmer presence and influence once prevailed. At Si Mahosot a Nāga-Buddha has been found at the site of a Buddhist monument outside the city walls; this site was a Khmer Viṣṇuite city with Buddhist stūpa and vihāra only outside the city walls. That would signify the presence of Mon communities in the suburbs of the city and thus explain the Dvāravatī Buddhist and artistic influences there. The group of later Nāga-Buddha images found in northeastern Thailand indicates continuity of the presence of the Nāga-Buddha in this region since the Dvāravatī period. They exhibit some features in common with the first Angkorian Nāga-Buddha images of the second half of the 10th century (catégorie I). Buddha images in both groups are protected by three-, five- or seven-hooded nāga with long, smooth, separate necks. Each nāga head is surrounded by a foliate design forming a crest, a typical characteristic of both groups. Other more archaic characteristics— such as the five-hooded nāga of some of the earlier Khmer images (also observed on the Dvāravatī bai sema of the northeast), the inconsistent number of nāga coils, and the half-lotus position with legs crossed at the ankles instead of the full payaṅkāsana that became standard in later Khmer sculpture—suggest either a Dvāravatī origin for the northeastern Thai and Khmer images, or a common lost model. The first Khmer Nāga-Buddha of the Angkorian period (10th century) are represented on caitya steles that were discovered in the Phnom Srok area, not far from the road between Angkor and Phimai through the Khorat Plateau. This road seems to have been important “trading corridor105 between Cambodia and the Chao Cœdès 1989a, 346–348. One of these objects, the mould LB 204 of the National Museum, Bangkok, has been analyzed by Boeles (1966). 105 The expression is Sharrock’s (2006, 125). 103 104

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

139

Phraya basin and beyond to South and Southeast Asia. The so-called “Prakhon Chai”106 Mahāyānic bronzes of Śrī Vijaya influence that date from the 7th to the 10th century were discovered at sites along this road, demonstrating that the corridor was also a road for artistic and religious exchange. Such iconographical exchanges have been suggested by Woodward,107 who mentions a group of “Bengali-style bronzes”108 found in Thailand that are contemporary with the Dvāravatī period. The Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha of Ban Fai and a Khmer Nāga-Buddha of Baphuon style109 have also been found at two of those sites110 along with Prakhon Chai bronze images of Bodhisattvas, testimony that the area had received Mahāyāna ideas and art forms from Śrī Vijaya as well as Dvāravatī and Khmer influences. The land route through the Khorat Plateau was the main line of communication for the Angkor Kingdom, since access to the sea route from the Mekong delta was barred by Campā until its conquest by Jayavarman VII; hence, imports of images from the old Dvāravatī cultural area, as well as access to Mahāyāna doctrine and new texts from farther south and west, were possible. A few standing Buddha images of Dvāravatī style found in Cambodia, such as the Buddha from Tuol Preah Theat (Kompong Speu province),111 dated to the 7th to 8th century and which interestingly is inscribed with a Ye dhamma in Pāli language, and others112 show that exchanges took place very early on between the Dvāravatī culture area and lower Cambodia. The Angkor–Khorat road leads past the city of Phimai, the ancient city of Vimayapura centered around its Mahāyāna Buddhist temple founded during the reign of Jayavarman VI (1080–1107 AD). The Nāga-Buddha discovered in the main sanctuary is dated to the later Bàyon period, while the lintel above the entrance of the cella represents a Nāga-Buddha, thus suggesting that the image of the Lord of Vimāyapura may originally have been a Nāga-Buddha as well. Phimai was an important regional center of Vajrayāna or Tantric Buddhism,113 as can be observed

In fact found at Khao Plai Bat, tambon [sub-district] Yai Yaem, amphoe [district] Lahan Sai, and at Ban Fai, amphoe Lam Plai Mat, changwat [province] Buriram (Bunker 2002, 108, 110). 107 Woodward 1997, 72 and 2003, 93. For example, the Pāla-style Vairocana bronze displayed at the National Museum, Bangkok, found in the northeast. 108 Woodward 2003, 92. 109 Today in the National Museum, Bangkok (LB 83). Bunker 2002, 110; Diskul 1971, 33. 110 Bunker 2002, 110. 111 In Musée Guimet (MG1891). Ill. in Baptiste and Zéphir 2008, No. 3. 112 Such a Buddha can be found at the Museum of Berlin; and a later image of Baphuon period (11th century) at the National Museum of Cambodia, Phnom Penh (No. 2885). Ill. in Bunker and Latchford 2004 (pls. 21, 81). 113 A late Tibetan source suggests that when the great monasteries of northern India were destroyed by the Muslim invasions at the end of the 12th century, monks took refuge in Cambodia. Phimai, one of the most important regional centers of Tantric Buddhism in Southeast Asia at that time, could have been among their destinations (Chattopadhyaya 1970, 330). 106

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

140

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

by the various tantric deities and figures (such as Saṁvara, yoginī, and vajraghanta bearers, among others) in the decoration of the main sanctuary. At the center of Angkorean power from the end of the 11th century was the Mahīdharapura114 dynasty, which may have made Phimai its capital at one time. Whatever the geographical origin of the dynasty, northeastern Thailand and Phimai certainly grew in importance during the reigns of its kings Jayavarman VI, Sūryavarman II and Jayavarman VII; during this same period the Nāga-Buddha became prevalent at Angkor. Conclusions The continuous presence of Nāga-Buddha images in the east and northeast regions of Thailand from the 7th to the 13th century, beginning with the Dvāravatī period, and their stylistic evolution up until the first Khmer images in the 10th century, suggest that the origins of the Angkorian Nāga-Buddha lie in Dvāravatī art. The dearth of images of the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha—and their discovery within a zone that had received Mahāyāna influences via the Malay Peninsula, as evidenced by the Prakhon Chai bronzes—suggests limited worship of possible Mahāyānic affiliation outside the mainstream of Dvāravatī Theravāda Buddhism. Whatever the case, the absence of inscriptional evidence precludes confirmation of the doctrinal affiliation of the Dvāravatī Nāga-Buddha or clear explanation of its significance. The later reappearance of the Nāga-Buddha as the central deity of a Vajrayāna temple in the provincial city of Phimai, capital of a vassal kingdom of Angkor, suggests the adoption of the Nāga-Buddha as the palladium of a local dynasty that later converted to Vajrayāna. It may have been a Buddha image worshipped locally since ancient times as a protective deity. Only when Phimai became a center of Tantric Buddhism during the reign of the Mahīdharapura dynasty did Nāga-Buddha images become ubiquitous in Angkor. During the reign of Jayavarman VII, the Nāga-Buddha is reappropriated as the central deity of the empire, reinterpreted as the supreme Buddha and integrated within a reorganized religious system that mixed Tantric Buddhism with an indigenous ancestral cult.

First suggested by Boisselier and Groslier; lately rejected by Jacques (2007, 30) who suggests Kompong Svay was the capital of this dynasty. Woodward (2003, 128) has suggested seeking the origin of this dynasty in the region of Ko-Ker. In addition, an inscription was found near Khorat that refers to “Mahādharapura” in apparent confirmation of the Phimai link (Mayurie Veraprasert, personal communication). 114

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

141

Bibliography Bachhofer, L. 1959. Early Indian Sculpture. Paris: Pegasus Press. Baptiste, P. and T. Zéphir. 2008. L’Art khmer dans les collections du Musée Guimet. Paris : Publications du département de l’Édition du musée Guimet. Bassoul, A. 2006. Human and Divine: The Hindu and Buddhist Iconography of Southeast Asian Art from the Claire and Aziz Bassoul Collection. Lebanon: Cedars of Lebanon Editions. Birnbaum, R. 1980. The Healing Buddha. London: Rider. Boeles, J. J. 1966. Two yoginīs of Hevajra from Thailand. In: Ba Shin, J. Boisselier and A.-B. Griswold, eds. Essays Offered to G. H. Luce by His Colleagues and Friends in Honour of His Seventy-fifth Birthday. Artibus Asiae 23.2 (Suppl.): 14–29. Boisselier, J. 1955. La statuaire khmère et son évolution. Saigon : Publications de I’EFEO 37. Boisselier, J. 1966. Asie du Sud-Est : le Cambodge. Paris : Picard. Bunker, Emma C. 2002. The Prakhon Chai story: Facts and fiction. Arts of Asia 32.2: 106–125. Bunker, Emma C. and Douglas Latchford. 2004. Adoration and Glory: The Golden Age of Khmer Art. Chicago: Art Media Resources. Chandra, Pramod. 1970. Stone Sculpture in the Allahabad Museum: A Descriptive Catalogue. Poona, India: American Institute of Indian Studies. Chattopadhyaya, D., ed. 1970. Taranatha’s History of Buddhism in India. Lama Chimpa and A. Chattopadhyaya, tr. Simla, India: Indian Institute of Advanced Study. Chirapravati, Pattaratorn, M. L. 1997. Votive Tablets in Thailand: Origin, Styles, and Uses. Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press. Chirapravati, Pattaratorn, M. L. 1999. Buddhist votive tablets and amulets from Thailand. In: Brown, R. L., ed. Art from Thailand. Mumbai: Marg Publications. Clarke, J., ed. 2007. Bayon: New Perspectives. Bangkok: River Books. Cœdès, G. 1951. Inscription de Thma Puok (K. 225). Inscriptions du Cambodge. Vol. III : 66–69. Paris : EFEO. Cœdès, G. 1954. Stèle de Vàt Sithor (K. 111). Inscriptions du Cambodge. Vol. VI : 195–211. Paris : EFEO. Cœdès, G. 1989a. L’épigraphie des monuments de Jayavarman VII. In : Articles sur le pays Khmer, Vol. I : 343–365. [Repr.; orig. publ. BEFEO XLIV : 97­–119. 1947–1950.] Paris : EFEO. Cœdès, G. 1989b. Les états hindouisés d’Indochine et d’Indonésie. [Repr.; orig. publ. 1948.] Paris : De Boccard. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

142

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

Cœdès, G. 1992. Le mystère du Bàyon d’Ankor Thom, conférence du 8 mars 1937. In : Articles sur le pays khmer. Vol. II : 271­–276. [Repr.; orig. publ. CEFEO 10 (1937) : 25–30.] Paris : EFEO. Dagens, B. 2000. Les tours à visages du Bayon et leur signification. In: 5 th International Symposium for the Preservation and Restoration of Bayon. Rapport dactylographié. 83–124. Phnom Penh : Unesco and Japanese Government. Diskul, Subhadradis, M. C. 1971. The Buddha and the Snake King. Hemisphere. 15.5 (May): 32–35. Diskul, Subhadradis, M. C. 1990. The Lord Buddha protected by the Naga in the attitude of Subduing Mara. SPAFA Digest. 11: 3–5. Dupont, P. 1950. Les Buddha sur nāga dans l’art khmer. Artibus Asiae. 13 : 39­–62. Dupont, P. 1959. L’archéologie mône de Dvāravatī. Paris : EFEO. Dupont, P. 2006. The Archaeology of the Mons of Dvāravatī. Tr. with suppl. pls. by Joyanto K. Sen. Bangkok: White Lotus. Eilenberg, N. 1996. A note on Jainism with discussion of an icon in the collection of Robert Hatfield Ellsworth. Orientations. 27 (July–Aug.): 51–54. Fergusson, J. 1971. Tree and Serpent Worship: Or Illustrations of Mythology and Art in India in the First and Fourth Centuries after Christ from the Sculpture of the Buddhist Topes at Sāñchī and Amāravatī. [Repr.] Delhi: Indological Book House. Finot, L. 1925. Lokeçvara en Indochine. In : G. Van Oest. Études Asiatique. 1.1 : 227–256. Publications de l’EFEO 19.1. Fukuoka Art Museum. 2008. Buddha in the Palm of your Hand — Clay Votive Tablets of Mainland Southeast Asia. Fukuoka, Japan: Fukuoka Art Museum. Groslier, B.-P. 1973. Inscriptions du Bayon. Paris : EFEO. Huntington, S. L. and J. C. Huntington. 1985. The Art of Ancient India: Buddhist, Hindu, Jain. New York and Tokyo: John Weatherhill, Inc. Jacques, C. 2007. The historical development of the Khmers and Chams in the Bayon period. In: Clarke, J., ed. Bayon: New Perspectives. 28–49. Bangkok: River Books. Jessup, H. I. and T. Zéphir, eds. 1997. The Sculpture of Angkor and Ancient Cambodia: A Millennium of Glory. Washington, D. C.: National Gallery of Art. Knox, R. 1992. Amaravati: Buddhist Sculpture from the Great Stupa. London: British Museum Press. Kuraishi, M. H. 1951. A Guide to Rajgir. A. Ghosh, reviser. [Repr.] Delhi: Manager of Publications.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

143

Lobo, W. 1997a. Catalogue No. 59: Caitya — Buddhistic monument. In: Jessup, H. I. and T. Zéphir, eds. The Sculpture of Angkor and Ancient Cambodia: A Millennium of Glory. 142. Washington, D. C.: National Gallery of Art. Lobo, W. 1997b. Catalogue No. 76: Adorned Buddha protected by the Nāga. In: Jessup, H. I. and T. Zéphir, eds. The Sculpture of Angkor and Ancient Cambodia: A Millennium of Glory. 272–273. Washington, D. C.: National Gallery of Art. Lobo, W. 1997c. The figure of Hevajra and Tantric Buddhism. In: Jessup, H. I. and T. Zéphir, eds. The Sculpture of Angkor and Ancient Cambodia: A Millennium of Glory. 71–78. Washington, D. C.: National Gallery of Art. Marshall, J. H., Sir and A. Foucher, eds. 1982. The Monuments of Sāñchī with the Texts of Inscriptions. N. G. Majumdar, tr. [Repr.] Delhi: Swati. Maxwell, T. S. 2007. The short inscriptions of the Bayon and contemporary temples. In Clarke, J., ed. Bayon: New Perspectives. 122–135. Bangkok: River Books. Menzies, Jackie, ed. 2001. Buddha, Radiant Awakening. Sydney: Art Gallery of New South Wales. Misra, B. N. 1982. Sculptural representations of Nāga Muchalinda. In: Sharma, R. K., ed. Indian Archaeology: New Perspectives. 295–302. Delhi: Agam Kala Prakashan. Mitra, Debala. 1959. Ajanta. [Repr.] New Delhi: Director General, Archaeological Survey of India. Murphy, Stephen A. [Forthcoming.] The Buddhist Boundary Markers of Northeast Thailand and Central Laos, 7th–12th Centuries CE: Towards an Understanding of the Archaeological, Artistic and Religious Landscapes of the Khorat Plateau. Doctoral dissertation for the Department of Art and Archaeology, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London; 2010. Mus, P. 1928. Le buddha paré. Son origine indienne. Çākyamuni dans le mahāyānisme moyen. BEFEO XXVIII : 153–278. Pal, P. 2007. An unusual Naga-protected Buddha from Thailand. In: Pal, P., ed. Buddhist Art: Form & Meaning. 53–63. Mumbai: Marg Publications. Paul, D. 1995. The Art of Nālandā: Development of Buddhist Sculpture AD 600– 1200. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal. Prapandvipa, C. 1990. The Sab Bāk inscription: Evidence of an early Vajrayana Buddhist presence in Thailand. Journal of the Siam Society. 78 (2): 11–14. Phiromanukul, Rungroj 2004 [2547]. อโรคยศาล ความรูท ้ ว่ ั ไปและข้อสังเกตเบือ้ งต้น [Arokhayasan: khwamru thuapai lae khosangket bueangton; Arogayasala: the hospitals of Jayavarman VII]. Muang Boran. 30.3 (July–December): 15–100. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

144

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

Rao, P. R. 1984. Andhra sculpture. Hyderabad: Ahshara. Revire, N. 2008. Introduction à l’étude des bouddhas en pralambapādāsana dans l’art de Dvāravatī : le cas du Wat Phra Men – Nakhon Pathom. Mémoire de Master 2, sous la direction de Michel Jacq-hergoualc’h. Paris : Université Paris III Sorbonne-Nouvelle. Sahai, B. 1975. Iconography of Minor Hindu and Buddhist Deities. New Delhi: Abhinav. Sen, J. K. 2007. The Nāga-protected Buddha in the Norton Simon Museum: Further comments. In: Pal, P., ed. Buddhist Art: Form & Meaning. 65–69. Mumbai: Marg Publications. Sharma, R. C. 2002. Ancient remains in Mathūrā. In: Tokyo National Museum. The Art of Mathura, India: Commemorative Event for the 50th Anniversary of the Establishment of Diplomatic Relations between Japan and India. Vol. 2 of 2 vols. 9–12. Tokyo. Sharrock, P. D. 2006. The Buddhist Pantheon of the Bàyon of Angkor: An Historical and Art Historical Reconstruction of the Bàyon Temple and Its Religious and Political Roots. Doctoral dissertation. School of African and Oriental Studies, University of London. Sharrock, P. D. 2007. The mystery of the face towers. In: Clarke, J., ed. 2007. Bayon: New Perspectives. 230–280. Bangkok: River Books. Suksavasti, Suriyavudh, M. R. สุริยวุฒิ สุขสวัสดิ์, ม.ร.ว., 2530 [1987]. รูปพระเจ้าชัยวรมันที่ 7 จากเมืองซายฟองในสาธารณรัฐประชาธิปไตยประชาชนลาว [rup Phrachao Jayavarman VII chak muang Sai Fong nai Satharanarat Prachachon Lao; an image of Jayavarman VII from Say Fong, Lao People’s Democratic Repulic]. ศิลปะวัฒนธรรม Silpawathanatham 9 (1): 60–70. Suksavasti, Suriyavudh, M. R. สุริยวุฒิ สุขสวัสดิ, ม.ร.ว., 2531 [1988]. พระเจ้าชัยวรมันที 7 (รูปใหม) ที่ปราสาทพิมาย [Phrachao Jayavarman VII (rup mai) thi Prasat Phimai; Jayavarman VII (new image) at Phimai temple]. ศิลปะวัฒนธรรม Silpawathanatham. 9 (4): 110–112. Tokyo National Museum. 2002. The Art of Mathura, India: Commemorative Event for the 50th Anniversary of the Establishment of Diplomatic Relations between Japan and India. Vol. 2 of 2 vols. Tokyo: Tokyo National Museum. Veraprasert, M. 1995. Tablettes votives contemporaines de la période de Dvāravatī découvertes à Nadun, Mahasarakham. In : Premier Symposium franco-thaï, 18–24 juillet 1988. 222–235. Bangkok : Silpakorn University. Von Schroeder, U. et al. 1990. Buddhist Sculptures of Sri Lanka. Hong Kong: Visual Dharma Publications. Watters, Thomas, T. W. et al. 1904. On Yuan Chwang’s Travels in India 629–645 AD. 2 vols. London: Royal Asiatic Society. [Single-vol. repr. 1973.] Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

145

Woodward, H. W., Jr. 1981. Tantric Buddhism at Angkor Thom. Ars Orientalis. 12: 57–67. Woodward, H. W., Jr. 1997. The Sacred Sculpture of Thailand: The Alexander B. Griswold Collection, the Walters Art Gallery. Bangkok: Rivers Books. Woodward, H. W., Jr. 2003. The Art and Architecture of Thailand from Prehistoric Times through the Thirteenth Century. Leiden and Boston: Brill. Woodward, H. W., Jr. 2004. Esoteric Buddhism in Southeast Asia in the light of recent scholarship. Journal of Southeast Asian Studies. 35 (2): 329–354. Woodward, H. W., Jr. 2007. The Kāraṇḍavyūha Sūtra and Buddhist art in 10thcentury Cambodia. In: Pal, P., ed. Buddhist Art: Form & Meaning. 70–83. Mumbai: Marg Publications. Woodward, H. W., Jr. 2009. A Buddha image from Banteay Chmar and related objects. Paper for the 2nd Banteay Chmar Conference, Sisophon, Cambodia; 8–10 August 2009.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

146

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

Figure 1. Nāga-Buddha from Tirukkavi. Anurādhapura period. Maṅgalarāja cetiya, Sēruvila (Sri Lanka). Author’s photograph.

Figure 2. Nāga-Buddha. Mangalaraja Cetiya, Sēruvila (Sri Lanka). Anurādhapura period. Author’s photograph. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

Figure 3. Nāga-Buddha scene on a bai sema from from Muang Fa Daed. Dvāravatī period. Mahawitawong Museum, Khong Kaen (Thailand). Photograph by Stephen A. Murphy. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

147

148

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

Figure 4. Nāga-Buddha from Si Mahosot (Thailand). Dvāravatī period. National Museum, Bangkok. Author’s photograph.

Figure 5. Nāga-Buddha from Ayuthaya (Thailand). Dvāravatī period. National Museum, Bangkok. Author’s photograph. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Nāga-Buddha Images of the Dvāravatī Period

Figure 6. Nāga-Buddha from Lopburi (Thailand). Dvāravatī period. National Museum, Bangkok. Author’s photograph.

Figure 7. Nāga-Buddha on caitya. Found in Aranyaprathet province (Thailand). 10 th century. National Museum, Bangkok. Author’s photograph. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

149

150

Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert

Figure 8. Detail of a Khmer bronze Nāga-Buddha found in Thailand, showing the Buddha with an object in his hands. 12 th century. National Museum, Bangkok. Author ’s photograph.

Figure 9. B r o n z e m o u l d f o r tablet from Sukhothai province (Thailand). Bàyon period. National Museum, Bangkok. Author’s photograph.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

151

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam from the 1500s to the 1800s Edward Van Roy From the 16th to the early 19th centuries Siam received a series of migrations of Mon refugees fleeing Burmese oppression, as well as sporadic inflows of Mon war captives. Large numbers of those arrivals were settled along the Chaophraya River and at the successive capitals of Ayutthaya, Thonburi, and Bangkok. This article examines the patterns of Mon settlement at the successive capitals and the patronage system whereby the Mon were granted privileged status and residence in return for military services. It considers the Old-Mon–New-Mon tensions that were generated by the series of migrations, including those that marked the transition to the Bangkok era. In closing, it refers to the waning of Mon ethnic identity and influence within Bangkok over the course of the 19th century. That analysis of the Mon role provides fresh insight into the evolving social organization and spatial structure of the three consecutive Siamese capitals.

Old Mon and New Over the course of the past millennium and more, a succession of Mon migrations crossed the Tenasserim Hills to settle in the Chaophraya watershed.  Each new migration encountered earlier groups of Mon settlers.  In many cases the encounter entailed tensions between the old and the new settler groups, and in each case the newly settled groups, or “New Mon,” became established communities or “Old Mon” who were to face yet newer Mon immigrants. The distinction between Old and New Mon thus historically presented a “moving target” in the history of Mon migration into the Chaophraya watershed and their interaction with Thai civilization. Ramanyadesa (Land of the Mon), sometimes identified with the fabled Suvannabhumi (Golden Land) of dim antiquity, is remembered as one of the great early civilizations of Southeast Asia. At its height, the configuration of Mon states collectively termed Ramanyadesa reached from the Irrawaddy basin and Andaman littoral over the Tenasserim divide into the Chaophraya watershed, from the Bay of Bengal to the Gulf of Siam. Included within that zone of Mon cultural preThe Note “Prominent Mon Lineages from Late Ayutthaya to Early Bangkok” published in the present volume of the Journal of the Siam Society provides supplementary genealogical information on some of the lineages associated with the Mon settlement sites discussed in this Article.—Ed. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

152

Edward Van Roy

eminence were Dvaravati and Hariphunchai, among the earliest known states situated within the territory of present-day Thailand. Over a millennium ago the Mon people adopted the ethos of Theravada Buddhism as the template upon which they built a vibrant civilization. Having absorbed and adapted much of their lifestyle from South Asia, the Mon in turn contributed greatly to the cultural evolution of their Southeast Asian neighbors, including the Khmer, Thai, Lao, and Burmans. But the halcyon days of Mon hegemony withered away many centuries ago under the mounting pressure of Thai, Shan, and Burman southward expansion, leaving a reduced Mon empire commonly known as Hongsawadi. Subsequent centuries of depredation upon the Mon heartland radiating from Pegu (Hongsawadi) to Yangon (Dagon), Syriam (Satem), Thaton (Sutham), Moulmein (Molamloeng), Martaban (Maotama), Tavoy (Tawai), and Tenasserim (Tanao-si) left a much-diminished culture (Dhida 1999; South 2003: 49–77). From the mid-16th century onward, unremitting Burmese oppression of Hongsawadi and its dependencies induced a persistent trickle of Mon households punctuated by a succession of larger Mon flights across the Tenasserim Hills to the safe haven offered by Siam. Some nine major Mon migrations—the precise number varies in different sources—are said to have crossed into Thai territory: six during the Ayutthaya era from the mid-1500s to around 1760; one during the Thonburi period; and two during the first two reigns of the Bangkok era (Halliday 1913; Suporn 1998: 43–74; South 2003: 81–83). “The Thai kings always greeted these refugees with good will, using them as colonies for the population of territory (granting land to the exiles) or making allies of princes who were on the run and using them against the Burmese” (Guillon 1999: 194). Similarly: It was by force of circumstances that the Mon were controlled by the Burmese, and the Mon had an abiding desire to free themselves from the Burmese yoke. As long as they could not free themselves, they were obliged to let the Burmese use them in every battle against the Thai. The more hardships and deaths they suffered, the more they longed to be free of the Burmese yoke. … As a result, a voluntary linkage between the Thai kingdom and the Mon region … came into existence, since the Mon immigrants urged their countrymen who were still living in Mon territory to follow them and seek protection under the Thai. (Damrong 2008: 90–91) While superficially accurate, that view fails to consider the many villages of Mon captives swept up and carried off during the repeated Thai military incursions across the Tenasserim divide. As an astute 17th-century Western ambassador observed: “[The Siamese busy] themselves only in making slaves. If the Peguins [the people of Pegu], for example, do on one side invade the lands of Siam, the Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

153

Siameses [sic] will at another place enter the Lands of Pegu, and both Parties will carry away whole Villages into Captivity” (de La Loubère 1969: 90, cited in Beemer 2009: 488). The arriving bands of Mon refugees were allotted specific settlement sites scattered along Siam’s western hills, western seaboard, and central plains waterways, with their more privileged members settling in the capital and its environs. A refugee contingent arriving in 1663, for instance, was “given lands to build houses in a place called Sam Khok between the boundary of the capital city and that of Muang Nonthaburi, near the monastery of Tongpu and along the canal of Khucham on the outskirts of the capital city” (Damrong 2001: 230). As a welcome addition to Siam’s perennially inadequate manpower base, the Mon immigrants were rewarded with fertile paddy-field and fruit-gardening tracts on the understanding that they would stand ever ready to provide military support to the Siamese state. The Mon asylum seekers were classed as loyal and trustworthy subjects under royal patronage (Ong 2007: 4). They served in their own military regiments led by their own officers, and they gained an enviable reputation as valiant warriors and astute intelligence gatherers along the western frontier. Their chiefs were awarded ranks and titles in the Siamese nobility sometimes reaching ministerial level, with their commander-in-chief carrying the honorific designation of Chakri Mon. Unlike the recurrent strife between the Thai and their other Southeast Asian neighbors, there is no evidence of any significant antipathy between them and the immigrant Mon—despite the fact that Mon troops and Mon officers participated in many of the Burmese incursions into Siamese territory. Though the culture that the Mon brought with them to Siam boasted a number of distinctive customs (Chuan 1994), it was in its elemental structure quite compatible with its Thai counterpart (Halliday 1922; Foster 1973: 206). That compatibility was nurtured by centuries of two-way acculturation, to which was added the two peoples’ shared suffering at the hands of their common adversary. Perhaps the most deep-rooted cultural difference was linguistic. Differences of a somewhat less elemental order included the Mon preference for living in separate villages and maintaining their separate village-centric society; practice of a reputedly purer version of Theravada Buddhist ritual; lingering customs of spirit worship and kindred totemism; distinguishing nuances of art and artisanship, dress, diet, and the like; and preservation of their unique history and identity (Smithies 1972; Foster 1973). All of that was offset by such shared social institutions as bilateral kinship, matrilocal residence, polygynous marriage, village sodality, and patronage hierarchy, as well as a subsistence economy based on wet-rice cultivation. In fact, Thai–Mon ethnic affinities were so close that intermarriage appears to have been readily accepted. The esteem with which the Mon were regarded by the Thai is often attributed to their historically civilizing role, particularly as transmitters of Theravada Buddhism to mainland Southeast Asia. Still today, “to be Mon in Thailand is considered rather high class” (South 2003: 29). Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

154

Edward Van Roy

In broad perspective, the Mon of ancient Ramanyadesa who settled the Chaophraya basin a millennium ago and who over subsequent centuries merged into the Thai cultural mainstream are sometimes termed Old Mon, as distinct from the New Mon migrations that accompanied the progressive disintegration of Hongsawadi from the mid-16th to early 19th centuries. That distinction between Old and New Mon, marking the epochal divide between Southeast Asian antiquity and the more recent past, is so self-evident as scarcely to require these differentiating terms. More narrowly, and certainly more incisively, the Old-Mon–New-Mon distinction is often applied to the contrast between the immigrants of the Ayutthaya era and those who arrived following the revival of the Siamese kingdom under the Thonburi and early Bangkok regimes. That distinction was well recognized by the Thai and Mon themselves, with the Old Mon survivors of Ayutthaya systematically receiving precedence and preference in title and function during the Thonburi reign. It was vividly highlighted during the dynastic turnover of 1782 with the leadership conflict between the Ayutthaya survivors, headed by Phraya Ramanwong, and the Thonburi-period immigrants, led by Phraya Cheng. Lastly, the Old-Mon–New-Mon disparity can be used to distinguish between the Mon of the period of migrations, lasting into the second Chakri reign, and those of later generations of the Bangkok era who, through quickening assimilation, came to be known as “Thai of Mon descent.” In sum, the first distinction focuses on an epochal cultural reconfiguration, the second on a pair of successive dynastic transitions involving consecutive relocations of the capital, and the third on an inter-generational transformation in ideology and attitude during an era of unprecedented political, economic, and social change. Thus, as stated earlier, the distinction between Old and New Mon is a shifting study in cultural relativity residing, ultimately, in the evolving identity of Mon ethnicity itself. Mon Communities in Ayutthaya and Thonburi Ayutthaya (see map 1) Relations between the Mon and Burmese crossed a historic divide in the th 16 century. Around 1540, Tabinshweti, the Burmese ruler of Toungoo, conquered the Mon homeland and made Hongsawadi his new capital, ending centuries of Mon independence. That watershed was succeeded by repeated cycles of Mon insurrection and Burmese repression, radiating across borders to foment chronic confrontation between the Burmese and the Thai. Under the grievous conditions imposed by unremitting Burmese expansionism, Mon migrations eastward across the frontier to Thai sanctuary occurred repeatedly: in the wake of the Burmese capture of Pegu and Martaban (1539 and 1541, respectively), accompanying the flight of Siam’s Prince Naresuan from Hongsawadi (1584) and again following his military campaigns against Pegu and Toungoo (1595 and 1600), in the afterJournal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

Map 1. Mon settlements at Ayutthaya, pre-1767 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

155

156

Edward Van Roy

math of Burmese reprisals against Mon insurrection (around 1628, and again in 1661–1662), in reaction to yet another Burmese subjugation of the Mon homeland (1755–1757), and again following the suppression of a Mon insurrection along the Andaman coast (1763). The immigrants constituted a broad cross-section of Mon society—nobles and their retinues chafed raw under demeaning subordination to their Burmese overlords; farming households whose adult males faced recurring Burmese conscription under slave-like conditions, leaving their dependents in dire straits; and monks who, as the designated conservators of Mon culture, repeatedly found themselves a prime target of Burmese repression. The arriving contingents were settled in concentric zones of habitation radiating from the capital in rough accord with their status and power. Most found a home in the Maeklong River basin, reaching from the Kanchanaburi frontier down to the Gulf of Siam (Sisak 2004: 51–57). Others, including those who had been brought to Siam as war captives—perhaps not all that unwillingly, given their oppression under Burmese rule—settled the less fertile littoral (Sisak 2000: 44–46). The smaller, elite battalions that accompanied their leaders to the capital were allotted virgin wet-rice tracts reaching from Khlong Kret Yai to Khlong Kret Noi along the lower Chaophraya River,1 as well as the productive Thung Pho Sam Ton (Three Fig Trees fields) and adjacent tracts in the more immediate vicinity of the capital (see map 2).2 The chiefs were provided with residential sites within the walled capital itself. The Sam Khok (Three Knolls) settlement area, in present-day Pathumthani province, spanned the Chaophraya River near Khlong Kret Yai (the Larger Bypass Canal), a 7-kilometer-long canal shortcut some 30 kilometers downstream from Ayutthaya, dug in 1608 to reduce the river’s length by 11 kilometers. The Pak Kret settlement site, in present-day Nonthaburi province, some 15 kilometers or so farther downstream, was situated along Khlong Kret Noi (the Lesser Bypass Canal), another shortcut 1.5 kilometers long, dug around 1630 to reduce the river length by 4.5 kilometers. 2 The Pho Sam Ton River (known today as Khlong Bang Khuat) formed a side-channel of the Lopburi River, separating from the mainstream some 7.5 kilometers north of Ayutthaya only to reunite with the main channel at the northeastern point of the city, directly opposite the Mahachai Bastion and Front Palace. The Pho Sam Ton rice tract thus occupied a well-watered island nearly 2 kilometers across at its widest point. The island’s lower section, known as Thale Ya (the Sea of Grass), had by the 17th century been taken up by Thai peasant villages; the upper reaches, beyond the royal elephant stockade, were assigned to arriving Mon refugee bands. They lined the bordering rivers in their villages, each marked by its own temple, and transformed the interior wilderness into a checkerboard of highly productive paddy fields that remains in evidence today. During their 1766/67 siege of Ayutthaya, the Burmese established one of their main forward bases along the Pho Sam Ton River. There they enslaved the local Mon inhabitants, looted the abundant rice stocks, and marshaled their forces for the final assault on the Siamese capital. In the wake of Ayutthaya’s fall, they installed one of their Mon minions, Nai Thong-suk, otherwise known as Suki, as commander of the Pho Sam Ton camp (Krit, 2000; Nidhi, 1996: 494-495). Though Phraya Taksin soon overran that camp, the Burmese depredations left the Pho Sam Ton tract permanently bereft of its Mon populace. 1

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

Map 2. Major waterways of the Chaophraya Delta.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

157

158

Edward Van Roy

The first clearly documented Mon flight to Siamese sanctuary, accompanying the return of Prince Naresuan and more than 10,000 Thai who had previously been carried off from Siam as Burmese war captives, arrived at Ayutthaya in 1584/85 (Cushman and Wyatt 2000: 88–90; Damrong, 2008: 38-39). The refugees’ favorable reception set the tone for the migrations that followed. With the installation of Naresuan as viceroy (uparat) at Ayutthaya’s recently built Front Palace, defending the city wall at its most vulnerable point, the Mon leaders Phraya Kiat and Phraya Ram with their personal retinues were settled alongside. There they established Ban Khamin (a village name probably of much later origin) and founded Wat Khun Saen, also known as Wat Chao Mon (Temple of Mon Princes). Their spiritual leader was installed as abbot at Wat Mahathat, one of Ayutthaya’s most distinguished royal temples, with the exalted title of Somdet Ariyawong, serving as patriarch of a specially created Mon monastic order (Raman Nikai, or Raman sect) of Siam’s monastic brotherhood. His devout followers settled directly alongside and founded there a smaller Mon village temple, Wat Nok (Cushman 2000: 89–90; Damrong 2008: 39–41). The main supporting body of Mon troops and their dependents was settled downriver, at Sam Khok. In addition, captive-peasant village contingents swept up along Naresuan’s route on marches through the Mon country were settled at a greater distance from the Siamese capital, under close watch. Following Naresuan’s elevation to king and his invasion of the Mon country a decade later, further fugitives and captives were brought back from Tenasserim and Tavoy (Cushman 2000: 89–90, 136) in substantial numbers. That process of Mon migration, both voluntary and forced, repeated itself spasmodically over the subsequent centuryand-a-half of Ayutthaya’s hegemony. Mon refugee arrivals accelerated in the closing decades of the Ayutthaya era. Many of the newcomers were provided with land in the Pho Sam Ton wet-rice tract, only a few kilometers upstream from the walled city. Under the direction of Ayutthaya’s Mon nobility those communities were assigned the task of defending the major northern routes of approach to the capital. The most important of the Mon strong points was the military guard post (dan) and transit tax station (khanon) at the riverside village of Bang Lang and its temple, Wat Dao Khanong (a corruption of dan khanon). A parallel guard post and transit tax station was situated along the Pasak River at the confluence of Khlong Khaw Mao (Deep-Fried Coconut-Batter Bananas Canal—referring to a popular Mon delicacy). And yet another was set up some 10 kilometers downriver from Ayutthaya at Ban Tanao Si, which in view of its name, location, and function evidently was also supported by a Mon settlement (San 2000: 61, 62).3 The close association between many of Siam’s Mon immigrant The officials manning a khanon collected a 10-percent tax in kind on the cargo of every passing vessel, while the troops manning the dan alongside prevented the passage of unauthorized vessels and contraband (San, 2000). 3

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

159

settlements and the various guard posts placed at strategic points along the main routes of access to Ayutthaya provides compelling circumstantial evidence that Mon officers and their troops were relied on to stand watch over the approaches to the capital, just as other Mon military units patrolled Siam’s western borderlands.4 With the repeated Burmese subjugation of Hongsawadi and its dependencies, the Andaman lowlands were gradually depopulated while the size and number of Mon refugee settlements around Ayutthaya continued to increase. During the course of a particularly ferocious Burmese suppression of the Mon homeland in the 1750s, Ma Pu—a Mon chief of unknown rank and title, possibly the governor of Yangon—fled with a sizable contingent of partisans to Siamese sanctuary. They were welcomed at Ayutthaya, where his peasant followers joined the many Mon refugees already settled at Sam Khok, with his regular troops being accommodated in the Pho Sam Ton tract (Cushman 2000: 446). Ma Pu was awarded the Siamese title of Phraya Noradecha, and he and his personal retinue were provided with residential quarters within the walled city in the vicinity of Wat Monthien, near the Rear Palace, at a considerable distance from the Old Mon settlement alongside the Front Palace.5 His son, Ma Dot, received the title of Luang Bamroe Phakdi, eventually rising to the rank of phraya. In the throes of Ayutthaya’s final days, the chief of Siam’s Mon military, Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan), died. He was replaced by Phraya Bamroe Phakdi (Ma Dot), who also inherited his title.6 The newly appointed Phraya Ram Chaturong (Ma Dot) and those of his followers who managed to survive the Burmese siege and slaughter at Ayutthaya were among the first refugees to join King Taksin at Thonburi in 1767/68.

Another important Mon military function was service in the Royal Elephantry Department (Krom Khochaban), capturing, domesticating, and training war elephants at the royal elephant stockade located alongside the Pho Sam Ton fields and at the royal elephant stables within the Ayutthaya city wall not far from Ban Khamin, as well as manning the army’s elephant corps in war (Varah 2004: 156–159). 5 The distancing of those New Mon arrivals from Ayutthaya’s Old Mon foreshadowed a parallel instance in the Bangkok era (discussed below). The New Mon tract probably also contained the residential compounds of other Mon nobles who arrived and entered the service of Ayutthaya’s King Boromakot in the 1750s, including Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan), Phraya Phetburi (Roeang), and Phraya Naranukhit Montri (Nu). 6 The succession sequence here is uncertain. It is possible that in the chaotic closing months of the siege of Ayutthaya, leadership of the Mon military and the associated title of Phraya Ram Chaturon passed to the father, Ma Pu, rather than the son, Ma Dot. That possibility accords with subsequent events at Thonburi, where Ma Pu was elevated to Phraya Phetracha and placed in charge of the Ministry of the Capital (Krom Nakhonban)—in effect, chief of Thonburi’s police force—a position he held until his death in 1770, while Ma Dot was awarded the title of Phraya Ramanwong. 4

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

160

Edward Van Roy

Thonburi (see map 3) In contrast to the fertile plains surrounding Ayutthaya, the lower delta, stretching from Thonburi to the sea, was in the 16th century a vast brackish swamp thickly jungled with mangrove stands, nipa palm thickets, and scrub-covered tidal flats threaded with meandering streams, sparsely populated by isolated hamlets of foragers and fisherfolk (Tanabe 1978: 40–52; Sisak 2000: 37–51). Far removed from the wet-rice farmlands of the upper delta, the lower delta was not a preferred Mon habitat. From the 17th century, however, as the annual inundation of river-borne silt gradually elevated the terrain, the downstream delta came to be colonized by Mon war captives who were assigned to strategic riverside villages standing sentry along the kingdom’s maritime fringe. The fortified way station of Thonburi became the natural nerve center of that downriver hinterland. Thonburi itself had initially served as a minor provincial trading post before graduating to a more prominent role as principal guardian of the maritime access route to the capital. There, all arriving vessels were required to anchor for merchandise inspection and off-loading of their arms before proceeding to Ayutthaya. That defensive role was reinforced during the reign of King Narai (r. 1656–1688) with Western-style fortifications built under the direction of French engineers (Cushman 2000: 307–308; Suchit 2005: 46–50). Mon captives who had been carried off from the Andaman borderlands in 1595 following Naresuan’s ultimately unsuccessful campaign against Burmese-held Hongsawadi may have been among the first settlers assigned to man the Thonburi guard post. It is said that they were provided with land in the neighborhood of what is today Thonburi’s Khlong Mon, far downriver from Ayutthaya, as Naresuan “distrusted them very much at first” (Halliday 1913: 14). That may well have been the origin of the Mon settlement situated directly behind the old Thonburi fort and still functioning there today, though it may also refer to the better-known Mon village of Bang Yi-roea Mon. Bang Yi-roea Mon. The evidence of a Mon presence in the immediate Thonburi vicinity dating back to the Ayutthaya era consists almost entirely of the area’s few surviving Mon, or formerly Mon, temples. The antiquity and original ethnic affiliation of ancient Thai temples—and thus their supporting communities—can often be ascertained from their names, architectural elements and artistic motifs, and recorded histories (N. na Paknam 1999: 75–92, 107–111, 163–192); that is no less the case for Mon temples. On those grounds, only a few present-day temples in the Thonburi vicinity can with any assurance be said to date back to Mon settlements of the Ayutthaya era: Wat Lingkop (today Wat Bowon Mongkhon) and Wat Samorai (today Wat Rachathiwat) several kilometers upriver from the Thonburi fort; Wat Bang Yi-roea Noea (today Wat Rachakhroe) and Wat Bang Yi-roea Tai (today Wat Intharam) a few kilometers west along Khlong Bangkok Yai; Wat Khok Kraboe (today Wat Yannawa) about four kilometers downstream; and Wat Klang (today Wat Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

Map 3. Mon settlements at Thonburi, pre-1782 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

161

162

Edward Van Roy

Nak Klang) directly behind the Thonburi fort. Each was an integral and indispensable feature of the larger Mon presence, associated in a complex reciprocal relationship with its own lay community featuring an ongoing exchange of subsistence in return for pastoral and social services (Bunnag 1973: 51–85). Bang Yi-roea Mon (Mon Boat Village) was one of the most vibrant of those old communities. It nestled along the southern bank of Khlong Bangkok Yai not far from its confluence with Khlong Dan (later known as Khlong Bang Khun Thian, or Khlong Bang Luang Noi), a major transverse canal linking Ayutthaya with Siam’s Mon-populated western seaboard provinces.7 That settlement served as a way station for long-distance transport between Ayutthaya and the western borderlands and was closely associated with the nearby guard post that gave Khlong Dan its name. Its two temples gained lasting renown. Wat Bang Yi-roea Noea (the Upstream Temple) is remembered—on a plaque still standing at a prominent spot on the temple grounds—as the cremation site of Phraya Phichai Dap Hak (Thong-di), a Mon hero of the Thonburi period executed in 1782 as a Taksin partisan. It was rebuilt during the first Chakri reign by Chaophraya Phra Khlang (Hon, or Hon-thong), himself a distinguished Mon noble, and was rebuilt again in the third Chakri reign by his grandson, Prince Dechadison (Mang). Wat Bang Yi-roea Tai (the Downstream Temple) served as the cremation site for a number of important personages of Mon ancestry or affiliation during the Thonburi period, among them Princess-Mother Thepamat (mother of King Taksin, died 1775); Prince Inthara Phithak (Chao Nara,8 died 1776); and Chaochom Chim Yai (died 1779, in childbirth), daughter of Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek (Thong-duang) and consort of King Taksin. It was rebuilt in the third Chakri reign by Phraya Si Sahathep (Thong-pheng), a well-known Mon nobleman.9

Khlong Dan (the Guard Post Canal) and its extension, Khlong Mahachai, reached to the Tha Chin River at Samut Sakhon. Its original excavation date is unknown, but the entire 30-kilometer route was widened in 1704–1705 by a force of some 60,000 conscripted laborers, some of whom would surely have been Mon captives (Tanabe 1978: 46; Cushman 2000: 394, 405, 407). The still recognizably Mon district of Bang Khun Thian in the southwestern Bangkok suburbs, marked by the three old Mon temples of Wat Takam, Wat Hu Kraboe, and Wat Bang Kradi, apparently dates from that time. 8 Chao Nara was one of several minor princes (mom chao) of Ayutthaya who, as destitute royal survivors of the 1767 holocaust, were “adopted” by King Taksin as putative nephews and given new royal titles and functions in support of the symbolic legitimacy of the parvenu Thonburi regime as heir to Ayutthaya. 9 During the fifth Chakri reign, the extension of Taechiu Chinese settlement along the west bank of the Chaophraya River, hiving off from Sampheng, Bangkok’s Chinatown, transformed this Mon village to a Chinese commercial outpost known as Talat Phlu (Betel Leaf Marketplace), featuring a regular ferry service to the Sampheng docks. With that influx, the Mon presence in the area withered away. 7

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

163

Ban Mon (the Old Mon Village). As the senior Mon noble serving King Taksin at Thonburi, Ma Dot was appointed Chakri Mon, chief of Siam’s Mon military, with the newly coined title of Phraya Ramanwong. In that capacity, he commanded all Mon troops at the capital, including the Mon elements of the royal guard, under the royal oversight of Prince Anurak Songkhram (Chao Ramlak, another “nephew” of King Taksin).10 He and his retainers were provided with a settlement tract that occupied the site of an old, abandoned Mon village half a kilometer from the “Thonburi Grand Palace”, backing the Thonburi city moat and bordering Khlong Mon (Sansani 1994: 182; Parate 2008: 97). Khlong Mon served as that community’s “front doorstep” and primary means of access to the river, which accounts for its name. However, no evidence, physical or documentary, has survived to suggest the date of origin of that canal. Its earliest mention appears in a Burmese espionage map of the late 1770s (Surin 2002; Suchit 2005: 84–85). Likely, it was enlarged around that time from a minor inlet to a substantial waterway, after the Burmese threat had receded and the local populace could be redeployed for such a laborintensive public works project. The village clustered around Wat Klang (today Wat Nak Klang), a Mon temple dating from the Ayutthaya era which, like many temples along the Burmese line of march to Ayutthaya, had been abandoned in 1766/67. The temple was reestablished soon after Taksin designated Thonburi the new capital, with the installation of Phra Thammachedi, an eminent Thai—not Mon—monk, as its abbot. The arrival of Phraya Ramanwong and his followers soon thereafter created a problem, as the Mon settlers required a temple affiliated with the Raman sect—practicing From the outset, the royal patronage extended to the Mon immigrant community was symbiotic in intent and effect. So long as the Burmese remained a threat, the Mon military comprised an essential element of Siam’s security apparatus. The senior Mon commander, the Chakri Mon, oversaw several Mon regiments. They were referred to collectively as the Mon Militia (Asa Mon). The relatively professional, full-time military status of those troops was indicated by their designation as a yearround, standing militia (asa, literally but misleadingly translated as “volunteers”), as distinct from the indifferently trained, inadequately equipped, seasonal conscripts who formed the bulk of the army (Suporn 1998: 119–125; Chris Baker, personal communication). In the Bangkok era that system was formalized into a group of ethnically specialized military detachments, including Krom Asa Mon, assigned principally to patrol Siam’s western frontier; Krom Asa Yuan, a body of Vietnamese war prisoners skilled in artillery; and Krom Asa Cham, Cambodian Muslim troops assigned primarily to the eastern frontier, only to be dissolved with the stabilization of Siam’s borders and the reform of its military along Western lines over the course of the fifth Chakri reign (Battye 1974: 209–259, 397–492). Whether the Mon Militia Department (Krom Asa Mon) and its specialized function dated from before the Thonburi period is unclear, but it certainly fits closely with Taksin’s aggressive military strategy. His innovative policy of dispersing his main forces to the periphery while leaving the center lightly defended was a brilliant reversal of the static, siege mentality that had preoccupied the Thai throughout the Ayutthaya era. But that strategy ultimately undid him in 1782 when his limited troop strength at Thonburi proved inadequate to contain rioting and revolt. 10

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

164

Edward Van Roy

Mon Buddhist ritual, speaking the Mon vernacular, sustaining Mon culture—which required a Mon abbot. So, in 1770 or shortly thereafter Phra Thammachedi was dispatched to Phisanulok to help restore the northern monastic order to orthodoxy in the wake of the heretical teachings of Chao Phra Fang. In his absence a Mon monk, Phra Khru Thepsithithep-thibodi, was appointed as his replacement. Unpleasantries were avoided upon Phra Thammachedi’s return to Thonburi in 1780 with his installation as abbot of Wat Photharam (Wat Phra Chetuphon) and promotion to the senior ecclesiastical title of Phra Phimontham (Wat Nak Klang 1997: 53–54).11 By such means Ban Mon established a firm Mon ethnic presence at Thonburi. Ban Mon (the New Mon Village). Continued Burmese oppression of the Mon people through forced labor, confiscatory taxation, and brutal punishment inspired yet another popular uprising in the Burmese-held Mon principalities in the 1770s. Led by Phraya Cheng, a Mon chief serving as governor of Burmese-controlled Troen (Ataran), the rebels attacked Martaban. The insurrection ultimately failed and resulted in 1774/75 in a flight of perhaps 10,000 Mon refugees, some 3,000 of them headed by Phraya Cheng himself, over the Tenasserim divide into Siamese sanctuary (Damrong 1939: 1–5). That sizable body of seasoned warriors was received by King Taksin as a welcome addition to Siam’s depleted manpower base.12 Most of those new arrivals were settled along the Chaophraya River from Pak Kret upstream to Sam Khok, while Phraya Cheng and his personal entourage were provided a residential site along the outer bank of the western Thonburi city moat, at Wat Nak (today Wat Phraya Tham), directly across Khlong Mon from the existing Old Mon village at Wat Klang (Sansani 1994: 184).13 The establishment of that New Mon settlement realigned Thonburi’s factional politics, as Phraya Ramanwong and Phraya Cheng soon came into conflict over issues of protocol and power. While Phraya Ramanwong was senior in age, rank, and title at Thonburi,

As abbot of Wat Pho, Phra Phimontham played a pivotal role in the events leading up to the Chakri revolution, as he was one of the three senior monks who refused to accede to King Taksin’s demand that monks pay him obeisance and who suffered severe punishment as a result, a scandal that contributed to the “disturbances” at Thonburi and the abdication of King Taksin. Phra Phimontham was reinstated at the start of the first Chakri reign (Thiphakorawong 1978: Vol. 1, 15; Vol. 2, 34). 12 The Burmese pursuit of those rebels across the Tenasserim hills expanded into a major invasion, culminating in the 1775 battle of Bang Kaew, in present-day Ratburi province, which was won decisively by the Siamese forces with the active participation of Mon contingents under Phraya Ramanwong (Ma Dot). 13 Wat Nak, like the nearby Wat Klang, is reputed to have been founded in the Ayutthaya era and abandoned in 1766/67. It was re-established around 1770 by Phra Thammachedi, abbot of Wat Klang, and in 1775 was adopted by the arriving refugee contingent led by Phraya Cheng as their community center, with the Mon abbot of Wat Klang, Phra Khru Thepsithithep-thibodi, doing double-duty as its abbot (Wat Nak Klang 1997: 5; Wat Phraya Tham 2007: iv, x). 11

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

165

Phraya Cheng claimed precedence on grounds of descent from Banya Dala, the last independent Mon ruler of Hongsawadi; furthermore, he had the allegiance of a formidable fighting force (Sujaritlak et al. 1983: 47; Nidhi 1996: 497–499). The installation of their respective residential compounds and retinues confronting one another across Khlong Mon surely contributed to those Old-Mon–New-Mon tensions.14 The enmity between Thonburi’s Old and New Mon leaders erupted in armed combat in March 1782, during the course of a rebellion against the excesses of the Taksin reign. The shifting factional alignments in that political crisis remain murky, but the essential participants consisted of the rebels (led by Phraya San), the royalists (backing King Taksin, even in abdication), and the military forces commanded by Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek (off campaigning in Cambodia and represented at Thonburi by his nephew, Phraya Suriya Aphai). In that confrontation, Phraya Ramanwong appears to have remained a steadfast retainer of King Taksin and his factotum, Prince Anurak Songkhram,15 while Phraya Cheng aligned himself with Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek and Chaophraya Surasi16 (Nidhi 1996: 499). Ultimately, the victory of the Chakri faction proved fatal for Phraya Ramanwong, whereas Phraya Cheng was rewarded with elevation to chief of Siam’s Mon military forces (Damrong 1937: 94; Thiphakorawong 1978: Vol. 1, 9). The divergent destinies of Phraya Ramanwong and Phraya Cheng profoundly influenced the subsequent history of Siam’s Mon leadership.

Phraya Cheng’s and Phraya Ramanwong’s residences outside the walled city were paired with the residences of their respective patrons within the city wall. Phraya Cheng’s compound stood directly across the city wall and moat from that of Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek (Thong-duang), which overlooked the river north of Khlong Mon. Similarly, Phraya Ramanwong’s compound was situated outside the city wall and moat behind the Outer Palace (Wang Nok), the riverside residence of Prince Anurak Songkhram (Chao Ramlak). 15 This interpretation holds the conjectures that, first, Prince Anurak Songkhram, recognizing the untenable position of the royal faction absent King Taksin’s charismatic leadership, defected to the rebel side in expectation that he would be installed as the next king; and, second, Phraya Ramanwong, unaware of those intrigues, was misled by Prince Anurak into entering battle on behalf of the deposed king. 16 An apocryphal tale has that at the critical moment, with the Chakri troops at Thonburi about to be overrun by the combined rebel and royalist forces, an urgent visit by Chao Siri Rochana, wife of Chaophraya Surasi (Bunma), to Phraya Cheng convinced him to mobilize his troops in support of the beleaguered Chakri forces. Only Phraya Cheng’s preexisting factional leanings and personal association with Chaophraya Surasi can effectively explain that dramatic decision (Nidhi 1996: 551–552, citing Historical Publications Committee 1971: 97). 14

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

166

Edward Van Roy

Mon Communities in Bangkok Perhaps because the Chakri family was part-Mon, and certainly because Thonburi’s Mon community played a vital role in the coup that brought the Chakri dynasty to power, several Mon lineages attained prominent positions in the nobility of the early Bangkok era. With Burma remaining a threat, at least until the mid-1820s, the Mon function as soldiers and spies continued to be relied on. Hence, for much of the 19th century “being Mon” represented a continuing claim on the patronage of the Mon elite, and a claim on employment in the traditional Mon specialist functions. That congeries of circumstances was well reflected in the Mon settlements scattered across the Bangkok cityscape (see map 4).

Map 4. Mon settlements at Bangkok, pre-1910 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

167

Ban Phra Athit In the aftermath of the Chakri revolution the friendship between Phraya Cheng and the leaders of the new regime matured into a formal patron–client relationship in which Phraya Cheng was awarded the new title of Phraya Mahayotha and elevated to commander of Siam’s Mon forces, under the direct supervision of Prince Surasinghanat (Bunma), the first-reign viceroy. Cheng and his retinue were then relocated from their former settlement along the Thonburi outskirts to a prestigious Bangkok riverfront tract that came to be known as Ban Phra Athit, in the shadow of the viceroy’s stronghold, the Front Palace. Several years later the relationship between the Front Palace and the New Mon leadership was further solidified by the elevation of Phraya Mahayotha to ministerial rank (chaophraya) and, some years thereafter, by the marriage of one of his granddaughters, Chamot, to Bua, a son of the viceroy, producing the Pathomsing royal lineage. The viceroy further extended his patronage through the construction of a magnificent royal temple, Wat Chana Songkhram, to serve the recently established New Mon settlement. Among his actions in return for those favors, Chaophraya Mahayotha (Cheng) rebuilt the downstream outpost of Prapadaeng as a fortified town during the second Chakri reign. Its ramparts featured three cannon-armed bastions on the east bank and five on the west. A Mon garrison of 300 troops, with their households totaling over 1,000 persons, was installed there from Chaophraya Mahayotha’s upriver client villages. The fort’s name was glorified to Nakhon Khoeankhan (Great Barrier City), and Chaophraya Mahayotha’s second son, Tho-ma, was appointed governor. An unbroken succession of eight direct descendants of Chaophraya Mahayotha served as governors of Nakhon Khoeankhan until its dismantling and downgrade to district status in the sixth Chakri reign (Sujaritlak et al. 1983: 60).17 The river frontage of the New Mon settlement at Ban Phra Athit stretched a half kilometer north from the mouth of Bangkok’s inner city moat (that segment called Khlong Rong Mai) to the mouth of the outer city moat (that segment called Khlong Banglamphu). The settlement came to be known as Ban Phra Athit (Village of the Sun), referring to the nearby Front Palace bastion of that name and thus highlighting the close link between palace and settlement. Prevented from spreading landward by the city wall, which paralleled the riverbank some 50–70 meters inland from the shore, the settlement extended into the river itself, with the shoreline becoming crowded with double- and triple-moored lines of raft homes.18 At the center of the dryland tract, backed by the city wall, stood the residence of Chaophraya Mahayotha (Cheng), later inherited and repeatedly rebuilt by a succession of his In the 1920s the old, abandoned fortifications and military billets were converted to a leprosarium. The town lives on today as a lingering center of Mon culture and ethnic pride. 18 The Mon fondness for houseboats and “house-rafts” as an alternative to dryland residence is emphasized in Foster (1973). 17

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

168

Edward Van Roy

male heirs: Chaophraya Mahayotha (Tho-ria), Phraya Damrong Rachapholakhan (Chui), Prince Naret Worarit (Krisada Phinihan), and Prince Charunsak Kridakan. Round about were clustered the dwellings of his adult sons and other kin, along with those of his senior lieutenants.19 Directly behind the riverside settlement, within the city wall, the newly arrived Mon community established a Raman-sect temple, Wat Tongpu, on the grounds of an abandoned village temple, Wat Klang Na (Temple Amidst the Rice Fields), dating from the Ayutthaya era. About a decade later, in his role as royal patron of the Mon nobility, the first-reign viceroy sponsored the reconstruction of Wat Tongpu on an expanded scale as a royal temple and renamed it Wat Chana Songkhram (Temple of Victory in War) in honor of the Mon participation in Siam’s recent triumphs over the Burmese. It became the heart of Siam’s Raman monastic order with the installation there of Phra Maha Sumethachan as administrative head of the sect’s central region.20 Successive abbots of Wat Chana Songkhram, invariably carrying the title of Phra Sumethachan, continued to serve as the Raman sect’s patriarch into the 20th century. Confined to the narrow tract between the river and the city wall, and with the city’s inner and outer moats blocking its extension at either end, the Mon settlement at Ban Phra Athit soon became overcrowded. Thus, the small cross-river village of Bang O, with its own Mon temple, Wat Lingkop, grew into a satellite settlement of Ban Phra Athit. Prince Senanurak (Chui), the second-reign viceroy, demonstrated his continued patronage of the New Mon nobility by sponsoring the reconstruction of that temple, upgrading it to royal status, and renaming it Wat Bowon Mongkhon (Temple of Viceregal Good Fortune). Ancient Thai custom prohibited all cremations within the walled city other than those of the most senior royalty. Standing within the Bangkok city wall, the Mon spiritual center of Wat Chana Songkhram was thus prevented from carrying out that most important rite of passage for the Ban Phra Athit nobility. The establishment of Wat Bowon Mongkhon served specifically as an act of royal patronage according appropriate dignity to the cremations of Bangkok’s Mon elite.21 Upon the introduction of formal land title registration in the 1890s, Prince Naret received the king’s permission to obtain title deeds to the entire 26,000-square-meter riverside tract. Thus, when the property was transferred to the Privy Purse (Phra Khlang Khang Thi) a year after his death in 1925, Prince Charunsak received generous compensation on behalf of the family (Sujaritlak et al. 1983: 26–32). 20 At the same time Phra Sumethanoi, abbot of Wat Rachakhroe, was appointed to head the sect’s southern region, and Phra Traisonthai, abbot of Wat Intharam, was designated to head the northern region (Thiphakorawong 1978: Vol. 1, 18; Suporn 1998: 188). 21 It was at Wat Bowon Mongkhon, reportedly in 1825 (though possibly several years later), that Prince Mongkut was inspired by the abbot, Phra Sumethamuni, to purify the Thai monkhood through the adoption of Mon traditions of monastic practice—and thus to found the Thammayut sect (Reynolds 1972: 80). 19

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

169

Ban Phraya Si Under Thai law, the penalty for rebellion was execution accompanied by the loss of rank and title plus the forfeiture of all privileges and property amassed over the course of the perpetrator’s lifetime. The execution of Phraya Ramanwong (Ma Dot) and his lieutenants thus left their surviving families destitute. In his continuing effort to demonstrate his benevolence as a righteous ruler, King Rama I restored the survivors to a position of dignity. The newly laid-out walled city of Bangkok needed population—royalty in the citadel (between the inner city moat and the river) and nobility in the outer precincts (between the inner and outer city moats). Among the many households ordered to move to the new noble quarter were the residual leadership of Thonburi’s Old Mon community. They were provided with a residential site along the outer bank of the inner city moat, well separated from the New Mon settlement at Ban Phra Athit. In contrast to the riverside conjunction of Ban Phra Athit with the Front Palace, it was situated well inland within the city’s southern sector, under the jurisdiction of the Grand Palace. The site was initially called simply Ban Mon but some four decades later came to be known as Ban Phraya Si. Leadership of the surviving Old Mon nobility devolved upon Phraya Nakhon In (Ma Khon), Phraya Ramanwong’s senior son-in-law. His title indicates that he served as commander of the Swords-in-Both-Hands Regiment (Kong Dap Song Moe), one of the five Mon military contingents guarding Siam’s western frontier. At Thonburi he had resided in his father-in-law’s compound, but he escaped punishment in the revolution’s aftermath, apparently due to his absence from Thonburi on military duty. Upon his return to the capital and formal submission to the newly installed Chakri regime, he was ordered to relocate with his family to the Bangkok-side residential site (Phusadi 2002: Vol. 1, 37). His eldest grandson, Thongpheng (Phraya Si Sahathep), forebear of the Siphen lineage, in due course became the family head and inherited that residential site, which came to carry his titular name as Ban Phraya Si (Sansani 1994: 183; Parate 2008: 97, 99).22 Thong-pheng married a niece of Riam (ultimately raised to Somdet Phra Si Sulalai), a Mon lady who was accepted as a consort of King Rama II and bore Prince Chesada Bodin (Thap), who eventually rose to King Rama III. Through those fortuitous royal connections, Thong-pheng was appointed to a position in the Ministry of Civil Affairs and the North (Krom Mahadthai) that gave him control of the lucrative teak timber tax farm (Sujaritlak et al. 1983: 66). The continuing influential positions held in that ministry by several generations of his descendants—including his son Phoeng, who inherited his title and whose children were the first generation of the lineage Sources that conflate Phraya Nakhon In and Phraya Ramanwong cloud the ancestry of Phraya Si Sahathep and thus the origins of Ban Phraya Si (Parate 2008: 95, 97). 22

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

170

Edward Van Roy

to use the Siphen surname—ensured them a role in the administration of Siam’s teak timber concessions well into the 20th century. Among the public works projects that Phraya Si Sahathep (Thong-pheng) directed on behalf of King Rama III was the construction of Saphan Mon (the Mon Bridge), a substantial structure consisting of a foundation of teak timbers, teak plank flooring, and masonry buttresses spanning the inner city moat alongside his residence (Sirichai 1977: 31, 141). It was built to replace a nondescript pedestrian crossing that had lasted from its construction in the first Chakri reign until its destruction in a great fire in 1831. Phraya Si Sahathep’s compound and a broad surrounding swath of hundreds of commoners’ dwellings as well as several nearby princes’ palaces were consumed in that wildfire. The King expressed his sympathy with the people’s suffering by extending the settlement area for the dispossessed community and awarding additional land for Phraya Si’s compound (Thiphakorawong 1995: 45; Phusadi 2002: Vol. 1, 37–38). The enlarged compound of 12,000 square meters came to contain Phraya Si Sahathep’s own residence plus about 20 homes of his kin and subordinates. Beyond that were spread the humbler dwellings of his lesser retainers, clustered along the outer bank of the inner city moat and on houseboats moored to the shore. That extension of Ban Phraya Si came to be known as Ban Mo (Pottery Village).23 The Thonburi Side Ban Mo and Ban Khamin. At the entrance to the present-day neighborhood adjoining Thonburi’s Wat Nak Klang stands a signboard erected by the Bangkok Municipality proudly proclaiming the community as Ban Mo (Pottery Village), replicating the name of the commercial neighborhood bordering Bangkok’s inner city moat alongside Ban Phraya Si. The name refers to a cottage industry to which many Mon households turned with Siam’s growing commercialization as the 19th century wore on (Tomosugi 1993: 137–140; Alisa 1999; Pisarn 2007). Ban Mo stretches across Khlong Mon to fade into Ban Khamin. That small village, as its name indicates, depended on another Mon cottage industry, the processing and marketing of khamin, a fashionable turmeric-based cosmetic not dissimilar to the ubiquitous Burmese face-powder, thanaka, produced from an aromatic wood pounded into pow The construction of Charoen Krung Road in 1862/63, followed by Foeang Nakhon Road in 1863/64, created an intersection abutting Ban Phraya Si that came to be known as Si Kak Phraya Si (the Phraya Si Crossroads). Ban Phraya Si occupied the northwestern quadrant of the intersection, reaching some 140 meters from the crossroads to the foot of the Mon Bridge. Over the course of the fifth Chakri reign the descendants of Phraya Si Sahathep gradually dispersed to other Bangkok neighborhoods and upcountry postings, and Ban Phraya Si reverted to the Privy Purse, which built shophouse rows along the intersecting street-fronts. With Siam’s turn-of-the-century economic boom the Phraya Si Crossroads became the center of Bangkok’s most fashionable shopping district. 23

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

171

der with an admixture of slaked lime for sale in local marketplaces as a beautifying application (Suchit 2002: 229–233). Those two cottage industries—face powder and pottery—represent the variety of occupational expedients to which the remaining Thonburi Mon villagers turned to supplement their subsistence mainstays of rice and fruit cultivation in the decades following the departure of their noble patrons. The persisting Old-Mon–New-Mon factional tensions during the early Chakri reigns are reflected in the history of the twin Mon temples that define Thonburi’s Old and New Mon settlements. To commemorate the former residence of Phraya Cheng at the New Mon village, Wat Nak was rebuilt early in the second Chakri reign on an enlarged scale, incorporating his former residential compound. Chaophraya Ratana Thibet (Kun)24 served as director of that reconstruction project. After his death in 1813 his sons completed the reconstruction project. The temple was renovated again, renamed Wat Phraya Tham (Temple Built by a Phraya), and raised to royal status in the third Chakri reign. Phra Nikrom-muni (Benchawan), a son of Chaophraya Ratana Thibet, subsequently served as the temple’s abbot (Wat Phraya Tham 2007: iv, x). At the same time, the descendants of Phraya Ramanwong, wishing to commemorate discreetly their unjustly defamed ancestor, sought royal permission to establish a temple on the site of his former Thonburi residence.25 Thus, in the second Chakri reign Wat Noi came to be situated directly behind Wat Klang. In the third Chakri reign the two adjoining temples of Wat Noi and Wat Klang were merged and upgraded by Phraya Si Sahathep. The combined temple was then renamed Wat Nak Klang and raised to royal status by King Rama III (Wat Nak Klang 1997: 54).26 The closely parallel histories of Wat Phraya Tham and Wat Nak Klang, both founded Chaophraya Ratana Thibet (Kun), the forebear of the Ratanakun lineage, was the son of Kui sae Ong, a Hokkien trader operating along Siam’s western gulf coast. Kui developed close ties with the local Mon business community, possibly including the father-in-law of the future King Rama I, and those ties continued to be cultivated by Kun. Thus, Kun was appointed deputy to Chaophraya Phra Khlang (Hon) at the start of the first Chakri reign, and he then succeeded Hon as head of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade (Krom Phra Khlang) before rising to head the Ministry of Civil Affairs and the North (Krom Mahadthai) at the start of the second reign. Through his Chakri alliance, he formed extended kinship ties with Chaophraya Mahayotha (Cheng), married into the Mon community, and maintained a rural residence at Ko Kret, a property that was later converted by his descendants to a Mon temple named Wat Sala Kun in his memory. 25 It was common practice for royal and noble lineage leaders to found and maintain small temples within or adjacent to their families’ ancestral residential compounds for commemorative purposes as well as in support of the kindred’s merit-making activities, their children’s education and monastic ordinations, family members’ cremations, and various other rites of passage. 26 The Ban Mo neighborhood today venerates the mystique of King Taksin, continuing the royalist sentiments of yore (though all local memory of the Mon role in the events marking the end of the Thonburi reign has evaporated—or so it is said). An impressive marble-paved and -walled, crownspired sanctuary recently erected within Wat Nak Klang with donations from many local households contains a variety of cult images memorializing the revered king. 24

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

172

Edward Van Roy

in the second reign to commemorate the residential sites of the former Old Mon and New Mon leaders and both raised to royal status in the third reign to honor the respective communities, suggests the lingering Mon factional sensitivities that the successive Thai kings sought to dampen through even-handed diplomacy. Ban Khaw Mao. Since the reign of King Taksin, Thonburi’s Mon villagers had cleared large tracts of fertile farmland well into the Thonburi interior for cultivation as rice fields and fruit orchards. That arrangement was disrupted around 1866, shortly before the end of the fourth Chakri reign, by the intrusion of a sprawling royal retreat, the Nantha Uthayan Palace. The palace grounds as laid out by the royal corps of engineers infringed upon a great swath of the land that had, since the Thonburi period, been held in usufruct by the Mon community. Exerting the royal right of eminent domain, the king’s representatives simply expropriated what they considered suitable for the king’s pleasure, ringed it with moats and fencing, and built within its compass a cluster of luxurious royal bungalows and lush gardens.27 Lacking effective patronage to reach the king’s ear and halt that infringement, the villagers had no recourse but to move to new land deeper in the interior. Their new village, founded in an isolated tract of the Thonburi interior, was named Ban Khaw Mao (reminiscent of the Mon village and transport canal of that name at Ayutthaya). There they carved out new farmlands and built Wat Mai Yai Mon (the Large New Mon Temple, today known as Wat Amonthayikaram). A century and a half later the local community retains little memory of its unfortunate origins. Ban Somdet. Not long after the start of the third Chakri reign the British entered into war against the Burmese. King Rama III decided to exploit the unsettled situation by having Chaophraya Mahayotha (Tho-ria) lead a body of Mon troops across the Tenasserim range to “sweep up” (kwat) captives (Suporn 1998: 74). Some of the Mon captives were posted at Nakhon Khoeankhan. Others were settled upriver, at Bang Lamut (today largely obliterated for the west-bank approaches of the Rama VI Railway Bridge and Rama VII Highway Bridge). There they founded Wat Bang Lamut (known today as Wat Wimut). In the closing years of the third Chakri reign a number of the Bang Lamut war captives were conscripted to build and man a King Mongkut died before completion of the Nantha Uthayan Palace, and the unfinished palace was abandoned. His son, King Chulalongkorn, then had many of its teak residences dismantled for reassembly in the palaces of his younger brothers. In 1878, an experimental boys’ boarding school, the King’s School (also known as the Suan Anand School), was founded there as a royal project, with the Rev. Samuel McFarland serving as director until the school was moved out in 1891. Following the government reorganization of 1892, the deserted palace grounds were converted to a training facility for the Mon marines transferred from Nakhon Khoeankhan and Ban Somdet. As a result, Thonburi’s Ban Mo and Ban Khamin are today heavily Navy-affiliated, and Wat Nak Klang and Wat Phraya Tham frequently host events under the sponsorship of senior naval officers. 27

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

173

new navy shipyard along Khlong Bangkok Yai, under the authority of Chaophraya Prayurawong (Dit), in charge of the Ministry of Military Affairs and the South (Krom Kalahom). In the fields behind, a facility was built to house and train a regiment of Mon marines drawn from Nakhon Khoeankhan and Nakhon Sakhon. The new settlement site came to be called Ban Somdet, and the conscripts built there a Mon temple called Wat Pradit (Sujaritlak 1983: 35–40; Van Roy 2009: 53–54).28 Some other Mon sites Ban Lan. Luang Chat Surenthon (Sawat), a Mon survivor of the fall of Ayutthaya, served the Thonburi regime as a junior officer under Chaophraya Chakri (Thongduang). His military prowess became known to Chaophraya Surasi (Bunma), who befriended him and became his patron. Through continued valor in war Sawat was promoted to Phraya Racha Songkhram, and he and his entourage were provided with a riverside residential site directly upstream from Bunma’s stronghold at Banglamphu. In the distribution of royal perquisites, he received the talipot palm leaf (bai lan) tax farm. Thus, his settlement came to be called Ban Lan (Talipot Palm Village). The extractive stage of the talipot palm leaf industry was a Mon enterprise, and Ban Lan housed not only the industry’s tax administration and contained palmleaf warehousing and curing facilities. Most of its Mon households were occupied in the labor-intensive manufacture of palm-leaf manuscripts (khamphi), ritual fans (talapat), woven bags and baskets, thatch, and the like. Sawat did not have many years to savor his success, as he died before the end of the Taksin reign. Only one of his children, Khun Phrom Raksa (Sat), remained at Ban Lan to continue in his footsteps. When Sat died without progeny, the talipot tax farm passed to another noble, probably a member of the New Mon nobility under the patronage of Chaophraya Mahayotha. Sat’s property was inherited by his dispersed siblings, who decided to erect on the site of the now-deserted family compound a temple which they named Wat Khun Phrom in their brother’s memory. With those developments the name Ban Lan fell into disuse, to be replaced by Bang Khun Phrom. During the third Chakri reign Phraya Racha Suphawadi (Khun-thong), Phraya Rachanikun (Thong-kham), and Phraya Thep Worachun (Thong-ho)—three sons of Phraya Sunintharamat (Ma Tho-poen) and Khunying Phawa, Sat’s sister—decided to rebuild the temple and present it to King Rama III. The king raised it to royal status and gave it the new name Wat Sam Phraya (Temple of the Three Phraya) in their honor (Phobun 2003). Over the following decades the local Mon population The shipyard and marine camp at Ban Somdet were terminated during the fifth Chakri reign, and their personnel were reassigned to the royal shipyard alongside the new Navy headquarters on the site of King Rama I’s former residential compound (Phra Niwet Doem) and the marine camp on the former Nantha Uthayan Palace grounds. That move greatly bolstered the Mon navy presence at Thonburi’s Ban Mo and Ban Khamin. 28

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

174

Edward Van Roy

was gradually replaced by a mix of Thai and Lao households, and the temple’s monastic affiliation shifted from the Raman sect to the Mahanikai. Ban Tawai. “Tavoy is adjacent to the Mon lands north of Tenasserim, but the inhabitants are Tavoyan, who are a separate people. . . . [They are] a distinct ethnic group who speak a dialect of Burmese” (Damrong 2008: 78, 150 ft. 95).29 The chronicle of the first Chakri reign refers to a rebellion at Tavoy against the suzerainty of Ava in 1791 and the subsequent opportunistic but ultimately unsuccessful intervention by the Thai in 1793 (Thiphakorawong 1978: Vol. 1, 176–182, 185–199). Large numbers of Mon and Burmese rebels as well as many repatriated Thai war captives were evacuated to Bangkok. The former governor of Tavoy and several hundred retainers were among the refugees, and upon reaching Bangkok and pledging allegiance to King Rama I they were temporarily domiciled near Wat Saket, directly outside the Bangkok city wall and moat. “As for the people of Tavoy, some were selected to work as sailors, and the rest were settled at the district of Khok-krabu [, later known as Yannawa,] with the governor of Tavoy [eventually joining them there]” (Thipakorawong 1978: Vol. 1, 191). The district of Khok Kraboe was located along the left bank of the river downstream from the Chinese settlement at Sampheng and the Western anchorage at Bang Rak.30 The principal temple in the area, known as Wat Khok Kraboe, was renamed Wat Yannawa in the third reign, and the Tavoy immigrant settlement came to be known as Ban Tawai (Tavoy Village). At the heart of the original settlement they founded Wat Don Phama and Wat Prok Phama, and further downstream they established several others, including Wat Lum Lakhon (now Wat Lum Charoen Satha) and Wat Mathoeng (later Wat Phraya Krai and then abandoned), all affiliated with the Raman sect. Ban Tanao. On the origins of Ban Tanao (Tenasserim Village) not a word of documentation has been discovered. The only surviving evidence resides in Tanao Road, a local street name superimposed upon the northern stretch of Foeang Nakhon Road. Tanao Road crosses Khlong Lot Thepthida (The Conduit Canal Reaching to Wat Thepthida) to meet Rachadamnoen Avenue at the Khok Wua (Cattle Pen) intersection. Reminiscences by the neighborhood’s elderly residents several decades ago suggest that the early settlers specialized in the production of homespun cloth (Tomosugi 1993: 37). All else is surmise. An imaginative reconstruction of the More likely, they were actually Burmese speaking their own idiom, not a separate people; Prince Damrong, in the above quotation, may have overemphasized their distinctness in an excess of nationalist zeal (Chris Baker, in a personal communication). 30 “[Around the turn of the 20th century,] descendants of eighteenth-century Tavoyan immigrants [still] cultivated paddy fields on the east bank of the Chao Phraya River, extending from Bangkok to the Gulf and encompassing much of present-day Samut Prakan Province” (Schmitt 1904, cited in Damrong 2008: 150, n. 95). 29

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

175

settlement’s history places its origins in the first Chakri reign, upon Siam’s 1793 invasion of the Andaman coastlands (Thiphakorawong 1978: 185–199). Tenasserim had been closely associated with Tavoy in its rebellion against Burmese oppression, and when the Thai decided to withdraw, its governor and many followers accompanied them back to Bangkok. There, having pledged fealty to King Rama I, their leader was rewarded with a settlement site within the city wall, alongside Khlong Lot Thepthida near Wat Khok Kraboe (later renamed Wat Mahan Nop). The settlement appears to have merged relatively early and easily into the surrounding urban scene. By the 1850s the area was well populated by Thai households in government service. Wat Khok Kraboe was at that time rebuilt under the patronage of Prince Udom Ratana-rangsi (Anop) and was renamed Wat Mahan Noparam in his honor. Early in the following decade a roadway—today’s Tanao Road—was extended through the neighborhood to allow vehicular traffic. Around 1872 a renowned Chinese shrine, Sanchao Pho Soea, was moved there from Bamrung Moeang Road, bringing with it a Chinese merchant community. The construction of roadside rowhouses then brought a variety of European and Indian shops catering to the Thai elite. And so the original Mon community dissolved into the urban landscape, leaving only its name in memory. Pottery marketplaces. Historical interest in Siam’s Mon population typically focuses on the elite families and fighting forces, but the great majority of the Mon community throughout much of the 19th century continued to consist of subsistence farmers, even in the environs of the capital. Increasingly, however, as the market economy penetrated the peasant world, Mon villagers turned to such commercial pursuits as firewood and thatch gathering, salt farming, lime slaking, market gardening, and inland water transport. Particularly profitable was the commercial production of brick and fired earthenware. Brick came into increasing demand with changing architectural technology and design in the construction boom of the late 19th century.31 With brick rose a market for sand, gravel, and lime (for cement and concrete), which in turn nurtured the development of a Mon bulk transport industry along the Chaophraya River and the major transport canals. Several Mon marketplaces and warehousing facilities for those building supplies arose along the Bangkok outskirts, as at the mouth of Khlong Samsen, north of the city. As of the In response to the rising demand for construction materials in the economic boom of the late 19th century, Thonburi’s Mon villagers established brickyards along Khlong Mon upstream from Ban Mo. Their success attracted competition, and so in 1889 they were joined by the Bangkok Brick and Tile Works, located along Khlong Mon near Wat Krut. The firm was founded by John Clunich, an Englishman who had earlier been recruited as Royal Architect to design and supervise the construction of the Chakri Maha Prasat Throne Hall in Bangkok’s Grand Palace. Clunich found dealing with his Western partners burdensome, and out-performing the local Mon brick-makers even more difficult, so the firm was dissolved before 1907 (Phirasi 2005: 81–107). 31

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

176

Edward Van Roy

1970s it could still be said that “a large proportion of [the] construction materials used in Bangkok arrives in Mon barges” (Foster 1973: 205). Similarly, with increasing consumerism, a ready household demand arose for a wide assortment of earthenware jars, bowls, pots, and pans (tum, mo, ong, ang, khrok, and others) for water storage, cooking, planting, and the like. Under the compulsions generated by Siam’s rapidly commercializing economy, a number of Mon households moved from Sam Khok and Pak Kret to Bangkok, where they established marketplaces for their earthenware goods, chief among them Talat Ban Mo (the Pottery Village Marketplace) along the inner city moat, Talat Ong Ang (the Pots and Pans Marketplace) along Khlong Ong Ang (the lower stretch of the outer city moat), and Talat Nang Loeng (the Martaban Jars Marketplace)32 at the confluence of Khlong Padung Krung Kasem and Khlong Prem Prachakon. Each of those marketplaces evolved, in due course, into a crowded, raucous Chinese-dominated commercial neighborhood, leaving only the old name as a testament to the former Mon presence (Tomosugi 1993: 14–16, 61–64). The Fading Away of Mon Ethnicity Few numbers have been cited for the various Mon flights to Siamese sanctuary, but it can be hazarded that the individual migrations rarely exceeded 10,000–20,000 people, with the last and largest (1815) reaching as many as 40,000 (Thiphakorawong 2005: 58).33 With the migration of 1815, the flow of Mon refugees into Siam ended abruptly, though occasional small contingents of captives continued to arrive for another decade or so. The threat of Burmese incursions into Thai territory ceased altogether as British colonial expansion into Farther India closed the Tenasserim frontier in the 1820s. Thereafter, Siam’s Mon population can be estimated to have grown in accord with the historical growth rate of pre-industrial populations (in the absence of war, famine, and epidemic disease) in the neighborhood of 1 percent (Harris 2001: 13–38). Adopting a conservative Mon population estimate of 150,000 as of 1820, that growth rate would have resulted in a population of some 350,000 by 1900. Yet by the turn of the 20th century Siam’s recorded Mon Martaban jars, originally designed for storing and shipping palm toddy from the Andaman ports, were called tum i-loeng (a Mon term evidently derived from “Molamloeng”—Moulmein). In the closing decades of the 19th century Talat I-loeng (the Martaban Jar Marketplace) was established along Bangkok’s third moat, Khlong Phadung Krung Kasem, directly across from the end of Khlong Prem Prachakon, a newly-dug canal descending from Pathumthani. The impolite connotation of “i” in Thai led to the market’s name being changed in the 1930s to Talat Nang-loeng. 33 The uncertainty of the cited numbers is underscored by their rounding to thousands, and often to tens of thousands. It is also unclear whether the numbers cited in specific cases refer to able-bodied men—the decamping military contingents—or include their dependents as well, or alternatively whether they refer to households rather than individuals. 32

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

177

population had fallen far short of that projection, and that shortfall only increased over the subsequent century. Nearly a century after the last major Mon migration, Siam’s first census—the 1903 census of 12 administrative regions (monthon) of Central Siam—showed a total population of 3.3 million, of which the Mon portion was only 29,000, less than 1 percent of the total (Grabowsky 1996: 56; Suporn 1998: 101). The 1909 follow-up census of the Bangkok administrative region “did not even recognize the Mon as a separate ‘race’ [chat]” (Grabowsky 1996: 56). A variety of ad-hoc estimates of Thailand’s Mon-speaking population over the following eight decades suggest that the late 20th-century total was anywhere between 60,000 and 200,000 (Bauer 1990: 24). In substantiation, a meticulous, privately organized Mon census of 1969–1972, based on declared descent rather than spoken language, found a mere 94,000 (Sujaritlak et al. 1983: 23–24; Bauer 1990: 24, 26). Other than outright undercounting, and in the absence of demographic catastrophes, the growing gap between Siam’s expected and actual Mon population since the end of the era of migrations can only be attributed to a wholesale Mon leakage into the Thai ethnic mainstream. In that perspective, the Mon in Thailand today clearly represent an endangered cultural species, virtually extinct in the metropolitan center where, at most, their descendants consider themselves Thai of Mon ancestry, with the ethnic survivors clustered predominantly in scattered provincial pockets. In addition to the corrosive effects of commercialization on Mon ethnicity throughout Siam, a convergence of several factors having a particular effect in Bangkok and its immediate environs accelerated Mon assimilation into the emerging Thai nation-state over the course of the fifth Chakri reign. Foremost among them were the centralization of the kingdom’s military command structure at Bangkok, the professionalization of the Bangkok metropolitan police force, the conversion of Bangkok’s Raman temples to the Thai monastic orders, and the decline in royal patronage of Bangkok’s Mon elite. The implications of each of those four factors for Bangkok’s Mon community are briefly reviewed below. First, the growing threat of Western colonialism during the fifth Chakri reign motivated a progressive reorganization of Siam’s military bureaucracy, featuring an increasingly centralized command structure that culminated in the 1887 formation of the War Office (Krom Yuthanathikan; Krom Thahan 2004: 80–115; Battye 1974: 271–283). The key components of the consolidated military command, split between the army and navy, were situated axially to Bangkok’s Grand Palace. The army was provided with an imposing headquarters, cadet school, and officers’ billets along Sanam Chai (the Victory Field) fronting the eastern wall of the Grand Palace, with the royal bodyguard plus infantry and cavalry barracks and stables alongside at Suan Chao Chet and Suan Luang (the Royal Gardens). At the same time, an equally handsome navy headquarters, cadet school, shipyard, arsenal, and Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

178

Edward Van Roy

officers’ billets were established along the Thonburi riverfront at Phra Niwet Doem (The Former Royal Residence) opposite the western wall of the Grand Palace, with sailors’ and marines’ barracks at Suan Anand (the former Nantha Uthayan Palace) directly behind. Among the forces assigned to staff those new army and navy facilities were upwards of 5,000 Mon officers and enlisted men from the dormant western frontier regiments and the naval bases at Ban Somdet and Prapadaeng. The Mon troops were thrust into a radically new, cosmopolitan social environment requiring constant interaction at close quarters with their Thai compeers and elite Thai officer corps who were themselves struggling to adjust to the new norms of military conduct. Pressures for social conformity—shared residential facilities (barracks life for the enlisted men), strict discipline within a rigid military hierarchy, mandatory communication in the Thai language, service at an interminable series of ceremonial events (royal promenades, receptions, cremations, regattas, and the like), and appropriate conduct for advancement within the military bureaucracy—combined to impel rapid acculturation (Battye 1974: 291–303). Second, during the fourth and fifth Chakri reigns the long-established system of Mon police patrols (Kong Trawen)—both land and water patrols—that had maintained law and order in and about the capital under the Ministry of Municipal Affairs (Krom Nakhonban), headed by a series of ministers invariably titled Chaophraya Yomarat (a number of them Mon), was gradually reorganized into a professional police force. In a preliminary departure from the Mon grip on the city’s security apparatus, a British police superintendent was recruited from Singapore during the fourth reign to direct a small contingent of Sikh patrolmen (Kong Polit) in suppressing crime and violence in the Chinese and Western city precincts (Battye 1974: 93). That prototype was then applied in the fifth reign to the reformation of the ad-hoc police patrol system into a full-fledged police force. Prince Naret Worarit—himself a royal descendant of Chaophraya Mahayotha through his mother, Chaochom Manda Sonklin, a consort of King Rama IV, and thus patron of Siam’s Mon community at court—served as a member of the select committee established to reorganize the Ministry of Municipal Affairs (1886–1889), and he then headed the ministry from 1889 to 1907. Under Naret the newly established Metropolitan Police Department (Krom Kong Trawen) initially retained its Mon staffing but sought to replace the traditional patronage system with performancebased advancement. Naret negotiated the transfer of many Mon troops from Bangkok’s army and navy facilities to the new Police Department and also affected the transfer of the remaining Mon marines from Nakhon Khoeankhan. By April 1893 over 3,000 men had been reassigned from the military to the police, and another 900 were awaiting transfer, though this was still considered inadequate in view of the incessant call for a substantial police presence at royal ceremonial functions (Suporn 1998: 128–131, 139). Gradually, however, the ethnic solidarity of the Mon police force was disrupted with the enlistment of increasing numbers of Thai recruits, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

179

the imposition of performance standards as a basis for promotion, the dispersion of the patrolmen among a number of precincts (each with its own police stations and police barracks), and the replacement of Naret in 1907 by Pan Sukhum, a Thai bureaucrat entirely uninterested in Mon ethnic sensitivities. Third, the Raman monastic order fell into decline during the closing decades of the 19th century, making it increasingly acceptable and convenient for young Mon men to consider ordination in one of the Thai monastic orders or skip that traditional male rite-of-passage entirely. Contributing to that process was dissension within the Raman monastic community. During the 1890s Phra Sumethachan (Si), abbot of Bangkok’s Wat Chana Songkhram and patriarch of the Raman sect, became embroiled in a scandal over alleged abuse of authority which, among other things, contributed to the government’s difficulties in introducing a public education system under monastic auspices (Sujaritlak et al. 1983: 117–119). A draconian solution was arrived at in the Sangha Act of 1902, which reorganized Siam’s monastic bureaucracy along narrowly circumscribed lines that pointedly omitted reference to the Raman monastic order (Suchaw 2001: 173–177). The Raman sect was thereby effectively dissolved as a separate administrative chapter, on the implicit grounds that its membership was small and on the wane and that its leadership was in irreconcilable discord (Suporn 1998: 195; Bunchuay 1979: 121–124). All of Bangkok’s remaining Mon temples were merged into the Mahanikai order—except for Wat Rachathiwat and Wat Bowon Mongkhon, which had earlier converted to the Thammayut order—and their Mon monks were required to adjust their daily practice, ritual, dress, and language accordingly. Old Mon monks were systematically replaced by young Thai monks in Bangkok’s temples, and so Mon speaking and reading skills as well as Mon temple rituals fell into obsolescence (Sujaritlak et al. 1983: 121; Suporn 1998: 185–197). That monastic Thai-ification process restricted subsequent generations of Bangkok’s Mon youth to a Thai education. Bereft of this element of their cultural heritage, many of Bangkok’s Mon households moved to Nonthaburi, Pak Kret, and other peripheral Mon communities, leaving those who stayed behind all the more exposed to the forces of acculturation. The spiritual center of Bangkok’s Mon community, Wat Chana Songkhram, faded from prominence in the process; in the absence of its former elite patronage, its facilities deteriorated, until its gradual revival as a Mahanikai temple in the final decades of the 20th century (Matichon 2005). Crosscutting each of the aforementioned factors, the administrative reforms of the fifth reign led to a withering away of the system of royal patronage that had provided the Mon nobility with a privileged place in Siam since the 16th century. In the traditional Siamese patrimonial state, formal royal–noble patron–client bonds had bound the political system together (Mead 2004: 13). The Mon nobility, and through it the Mon commons, had received valuable perquisites from their royal sponsors for their steadfast military service. Phraya Cheng and subsequent genJournal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

180

Edward Van Roy

erations of his entourage at Ban Phra Athit, in particular, had benefitted greatly, initially in return for the support they had extended during the Chakri revolution and subsequently for their military and other services under the patronage of the successive Chakri-dynasty viceroys. Following the pacification of the volatile western frontier, however, the value of the Mon military contribution fell into decline, and with it the Mon nobility began to slip from royal favor. The death of the fifth-reign viceroy in 1885 and the dissolution of his office soon thereafter further disrupted the Mon patronage position. In the aftermath, Prince Naret, as both the succeeding royal patron of the Mon nobility and a firm proponent of the emerging meritocracy, found himself in the uncomfortable position of straddling the inter-generational divide. Shunted aside from royal favor under Naret’s ambivalent patronage, Bangkok’s Mon nobility and their retinues adjusted by dispersing to new opportunities, and both the Old Mon neighborhood at Ban Phraya Si and the New Mon at Ban Phra Athit were absorbed into the amorphous urban maelstrom. Bangkok’s Mon elite were thus gradually shorn of their privileged position and dispersed as the old system of formal royal–noble patronage relationships was progressively attenuated and eventually superseded, to survive only as a network of informal noble–commoner patron–client links in the peripheral Mon settlements. In conclusion, unremitting pressures favoring acculturation over the course of the late 19th century and the subsequent decades diffused “Mon” identity to selfrepresentation as “Thai of Mon descent.” In the process, lingering Old-Mon–NewMon distinctions slipped into oblivion. And so, Bangkok’s Mon population was gradually absorbed into the Thai mainstream, until over the course of the 20th century its former ethnic identity became a fast-receding memory—reminiscent of the fabled fate of ancient Dvaravati. The decline of abiding Mon customs and festivals to the self-demeaning status of tourist attractions at peripheral Mon settlements, recurrent nostalgic reviews and revivals of obsolete Mon folkways, and the occasional literary cri de coeur on the resilience of Mon culture in the face of the encroaching Thai nation-state speak eloquently of that waning. “It would scarcely be an exaggeration, then, to say that Mon society and culture have disappeared in many areas and are highly attenuated in others” (Foster 1973: 220). That end is nowhere more evident than in and around the Bangkok metropolis.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

181

Sources Alisa Ramkomut (ed.), 1999. Ko kret: withi chiwit chumchon mon rim nam chaophraya [Ko Kret: life of a Mon community along the Chaophraya River]. Bangkok: Department of Fine Arts. Battye, Noel A., 1974. The military, government and society in Siam, 1868–1910: Politics and military reform during the reign of King Chulalongkorn. Doctoral dissertation, Cornell University. Bauer, Christian, 1990. Language and ethnicity: The Mon in Burma and Thailand. In Gehan Wijeyewardene (ed.), Ethnic Groups across National Boundaries in Mainland Southeast Asia, 14–47. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. Beemer, Bryce, 2009. Southeast Asian slavery and slave gathering warfare as a vector for cultural transmission: The case of Burma and Thailand, The Historian, Vol. 71, No. 3, 481–506. Bunchuay, Phra Maha (So. Cho. Wano), 1979. Khana song raman nai prathet thai [the Raman monastic order in Thailand]. Printed for the royal cremation of Phra Winaimuni. Bangkok: Khiriwan. Bunnag, Jane, 1973. Buddhist Monk, Buddhist Layman: A Study of Urban Monastic Organization in Central Thailand. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Chuan Khroeawichanyachan, 1994. Withi chiwit chaw mon [the way of life of the Mon people]. Bangkok: Moeang Boran. Cushman, Richard D. (trans.) and David K. Wyatt (ed.), 2000. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya. Bangkok: Siam Society. Damrong Rachanuphap, Prince (ed.), 1937. Phra racha phongsawadan krung thonburi, chabap phan chanthanamat (choem) [the royal chronicle of Krung Thonburi, phan chanthanamat [choem] edition]. In Prince Damrong Rachanuphap (ed.), Prachum phongsawadan, pak thi 65 [collected chronicles, volume 65]. Bangkok: Daily Mail. Damrong Rachanuphap, Prince, 1939. Lamdap sakun khochaseni lae borankhadi mon [the generations of the Khochaseni family and its Mon antiquity]. Printed for the cremation of Phraya Phiphit Montri. Bangkok. Damrong Rachanuphap, Prince, 2001. The Chronicle of Our Wars with the Burmese: Hostilities between Siamese and Burmese When Ayutthaya Was the Capital of Siam. Bangkok: White Lotus. Damrong Rachanuphap, Prince, 2008. A Biography of King Naresuan the Great. Trans., ed. by Kennon Breazeale. Bangkok: Toyota Thailand Foundation and Foundation for the Promotion of Social Science and Humanities Textbooks Project. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

182

Edward Van Roy

de La Loubère, Simon, 1969. The Kingdom of Siam. Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press. Dhida Saraya, 1999. (Sri) Dvaravati: The Initial Phase of Siam’s History. Bangkok: Moeang Boran. Foster, Brian Lee, 1973. Ethnic identity of the Mons in Thailand, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 61, Part 1, 203–226. Grabowsky, Volker, 1996. The Thai census of 1904: Translation and analysis, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 84, Part I, 49–85. Guillon, E., 1999. The Mons: A Civilization of Southeast Asia. Bangkok: Siam Society. Halliday, Robert, 1913. The immigration of the Mons into Siam, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 10, No. 3, 1–15. Halliday, Robert, 1922. The Mons in Siam, Journal of the Burma Research Society, Vol. 12, No. 2, 69–79. Harris, P. M. G., 2001. The History of Human Populations, Vol.1: Forms of Growth and Decline. Homewood, Illinois: Praeger. Historical Publications Committee, 1971. Tamnan phoen moeang chiangmai [local history of Chiangmai]. Bangkok. Krit Loealamai, 2000. Khai pho sam ton [the Pho Sam Ton military camp], Moeang Boran, Vol. 26, No. 4, 66–67. Krom thahan rap thi 1 mahadlek raksa phra-ong, 2004. Tamnan thahan mahadlek [history of the Royal Pages Bodyguard]. Bangkok. Matichon, 2005. Wang na chana songkhram: chalong pha pa… [the Front Palace (and Wat) Chana Songkhram: celebratory offering of monks’ robes …]. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Mead, Kullada Kesboonchoo, 2004. The Rise and Decline of Thai Absolutism. London: Routledge Curzon. N. na Paknam, 1999. Tham top: silpa thai [questions and answers: Thai art]. Bangkok: Sarakhadi. Nidhi Eoseewong, 1996. Kan-moeang thai samai phrachao krung thronburi [Thai politics in the time of the King of Thonburi]. 4th ed. Bangkok: Silpa Wathanatham. Ong Banchun, 2007. Ying mon: amnat lae rachasamnak [Mon women: power and the royal court]. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Parate Attavipach, 2008. Botbat khong chon chat mon to prawatisat lae sangkhom khong thai [role of the Mon in Thai history and society], Silpa Wathanatham, Vol. 29, No. 6, 91–104. Phirasi Phowathong, 2005. Chang farang nai krung siam [Western artisans in the kingdom of Siam]. Bangkok: Chulalongkorn University. Phobun Wibulo, Phra Maha, 2003. Prawat wat sam phraya, phra aram luang chan tri chanit saman [history of Wat Sam Phraya, Third Class Royal Temple of the common type]. MS, not publ. Bangkok. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam

183

Phusadi Thiphathat, 2002. Ban nai krung ratanakosin [houses in Bangkok]. 4 vols. Bangkok: Chulalongkorn University Press. Pisarn Boonphook, 2007. Khroeang pan din phao nonthaburi [fired earthenware of Nonthaburi]. Bangkok: Sukhothai Thammathirat University. Reynolds, Craig J., 1972. The Buddhist monkhood in nineteenth century Thailand. Doctoral dissertation, Cornell University. San Thongpan, 2000. Dan khanon [military inspection posts and transit tax stations], Moeang Boran, Vol. 26, No. 4, 60–65. Sansani Wirasilchai, 1994. Choe ban nam moeang nai krungthep [place names in Bangkok]. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Schmitt, Joseph, 1904. Les Thavais [the Tavoyans], Revue Indochinoise, 2e semestre, 443–444. Sirichai Narumit, 1977. Old Bridges of Bangkok. Bangkok: Siam Society. Sisak Walliphodom, 2000. Phumisat-phumilak: tang ban paeng moeang [physiographical features: layout of the country]. Bangkok: Moeang Boran. Sisak Walliphodom, 2004. Lum nam maeklong mi khon yut hin pen banaphachan khun yut pachuban [the Maeklong River basin had Stone Age people who were the ancestors of the present-day people]. In Suchit Wongthet (ed.), Lum nam maeklong: prawatisat chatiphan “khroeayat” mon [the Maeklong Basin: history of our Mon “kin”], 27–79. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Smithies, Michael, 1972. Village Mons of Bangkok, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 61, No. 1, 307–332. South, Ashley, 2003. Mon Nationalism and Civil War in Burma: The Golden Sheldrake. London: Routledge Curzon. Suchaw Phloychum, 2001. Khana song raman nai prathet thai [the Raman monastic order in Thailand]. Bangkok: Mahamakut Rachawithayalai. Suchit Wongthet (ed.), 2002. Wiang wang fang thon: chumchon chaw siam [the city and palaces on the Thonburi side: a Siamese community]. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Suchit Wongthet, 2005. Krungthep ma chak nai, Bangkok: The Historical Background [what are Bangkok’s origins? the historical background]. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Sujaritlak Deepadung, Vichit Ketvisit, Attajinda Deepadung and Su-ed Gajaseni, 1983. Botbat nai dan sangkhom wathanatham lae kanmoeang khong khon klum noi nai krung ratanakosin: khwampenma lae khwamplianplaeng nai rop 200 pi: mon [social, cultural, and political roles of a minority group in Bangkok: origins and changes over 200 years: the Mon]. Bangkok: Chulalongkorn University. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

184

Edward Van Roy

Suporn Ocharoen, 1998. Mon nai moeang thai [the Mon in Thailand]. Bangkok: Thammasat University Press. Surin Mukhsi, 2002. Krung thonburi nai phaenthi phama [Thonburi on a Burmese map]. In Suchit Wongthet (ed.), Wiang wang fang thon: chumchon chaw siam [city and palaces on the Thonburi side: Siamese communities], 105–115. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Tanabe, Shigeharu, 1978. Land reclamation in the Chao Phraya Delta. In Yoneo Ishii (ed.), Thailand: A Rice-Growing Society, 40–82. Honolulu: University Press of Hawaii. Thiphakorawong, Chaophraya, 1978. The Dynastic Chronicles, Bangkok Era, The First Reign, B. E. 2325–2352 [A. D. 1782–1809]. Trans., ed. by Thadeus and Chadin Flood. 2 vols. Tokyo: Centre for East Asian Cultural Studies. Thiphakorawong, Chaophraya, 1995. Phra racha phongsawadan krung ratanakosin rachakan thi 3 [the royal chronicles of Krung Ratanakosin, the Third Reign]. 6th ed. Bangkok: Royal Thai Government, Department of Fine Arts. Thiphakorawong, Chaophraya, 2005. Phra rachaphongsawadan krung ratanakosin rachakan thi 2 [the royal chronicles of Krung Ratanakosin, the Second Reign]. Ed. by Narimon Thirawat and Nithi Auesriwongse. Bangkok: Amarin. Tomosugi, Takashi, 1993. Reminiscences of Old Bangkok: Memory and the Identification of a Changing Society. Tokyo: University of Tokyo, Institute of Oriental Culture. Van Roy, Edward, 2009. Under duress: Lao war captives at Bangkok in the nineteenth century, Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 97, 43–68. Varah Rochanavibhata, 2004. Mon krung si [Mon of the city of Ayutthaya]. In Pimpraphai Phisanbut (ed.), Luk chin lan mon nai krungthep [children of the Chinese and grandchildren of the Mon in Bangkok], 153–184. Bangkok: Sarakadi. Wat Nak Klang Worawihan, 1997. Prawat wat nak klang worawihan [history of Wat Nak Klang Worawihan]. In Wat Nak Klang Worawihan, Pariyati soeksa wat nak klang worawihan [Buddhist scriptural studies at Wat Nak Klang Worawihan]. Thonburi. Wat Phraya Tham Worawihan, 2007. Naew khit thang tham: phithi kan – phithi kam [ways of thinking on the way of the law: rites, ceremonies]. Thonburi.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

185

Towards a Definition of Isan Mural Painting: Focus on the Heartland Bonnie Pacala Brereton Characteristics of northeastern Thailand (Isan) mural painting are described for a subgroup of examples in the heartland of the region, located at three temples: Wat Matchima Withayaram (more commonly known as Ban Lan), Wat Sanuan Wari Phatthanaram, and Wat Sa Bua Kaew, all in Khon Kaen province. The stylistic consistencies in their murals as well as their unique traits are investigated. The combination of their characteristics exemplifies the creativity of “Isan heartland” mural painting early in the 20th century and the distinctiveness of the local Buddhist imagination.

Since mural painting in the northeastern region (Isan1) of Thailand has been relatively undocumented by art historians, an attempt to define its stylistic characteristics as a school may seem premature. However, taking into account the extensive area, numerous murals on temple walls, and diverse painting styles of the region, an attempt to begin exploring seems reasonable, focusing on a small, localized group. The diversity in style among temple murals in the region was first noted over two decades ago by Pairote Samosorn (1989) who found murals at 70 temples (wat) and classified them into three sub-schools of painting: one centered in Ubon Ratchathani, another along the Mekong River, and a third in the interior provinces of Khon Kaen, Maha Sarakham, Kalasin, and Roi Et (Pairote, 1989), which the present author refers to as the “Isan heartland”. Mural paintings in this area exhibit the least stylistic influence from those of the Central region; in this sense they comprise an authentic local school. The present article focuses on three examples at temples in Khon Kaen province:2

The term “Isan” is used among the ethnic Lao–Thai and Khmer–Thai in reference to their region, ethnicity, and culture, although it does not come from their tradition. The term was invented by (Central) Thai government officials. A politically neutral term might be preferable in the present context of the cultural heritage; nonetheless, local inhabitants seem accustomed to “Isan”. 2 The first two are located within 20 kilometers of each other. The third is some 90 kilometers distant. The proximity of these sites suggests the presence of historical connections and exchanges of influence between them as well as with three other wat in nearby Maha Sarakham province that share many of the same features—Wat Photharam, Wat Pa Rerai, and Wat Ban Yang. 1

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

186

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

1. Wat Ban Lan (see figure 1) 2. Wat Sanuan Wari Phatthanaram (figure 2) 3. Wat Sa Bua Kaew (figure 3). The murals at these three temples are painted on the exterior, and sometimes interior, of ordination halls (sim)3 that are unlike all other temple buildings in Thailand. Modest little structures, their walls are completely covered by the murals, which extend even into the corners of pilasters and indentations around windows. Local people explain that the exterior location enabled the murals to be seen by a large number of laypeople, especially women, who were not allowed to enter the tiny sim interiors, which were reserved for monks and men being ordained. At the present time most sim are no longer used for ordinations, having been replaced by homogeneous, modern Central-region–style structures like that in figure 2 (rear structure). All three wat were established during the first quarter of the 20th century. Their sim were constructed by Vietnamese builders several years later.4 The murals were painted still later by local Thais of Lao ethnicity. The three sim, constructed of brick and mortar, share roughly similar architectural features, including a single entryway reached from a short stairway that is flanked by highly stylized figures of mythical animals—naga at two wat and singha at the other (figure 4). The side walls consist of three panels, two of which have windows. The roofs of all three sim have wide gables that extend outward and shelter the murals from rain and sun. The roofs were originally covered with wooden shingles that have been replaced by galvanized metal at one site and Central-region–style glazed tiles at the other two. The similarity of the original roof patterns is obscured by the differences in quality and authenticity of the renovations undertaken over the years at the three sites.5 (1) Wat Ban Lan. Located in Ban Lan, Tambon Ban Lan, Amphoe Ban Phai, “Sim” is the Lao word for the buildings known as ubosot or bot in other parts of Thailand. Vietnamese builders presumably learned their trade in colonial French construction projects in Viet Nam, Laos, and Cambodia. 5 All have had new roofs constructed within the past decade. The roof at Wat Ban Lan has a Centralstyle pitch and brown-glazed shingles. The roof at Wat Sanuan Wari, constructed about three years ago, while accurate in shape, is made of corrugated aluminum, which is unattractive and radiates heat onto the walls, putting the murals at risk. The new roof at Wat Sa Bua Kaew was built under a project initiated by the Siam Society and is stylistically authentic and handsome, although it is composed of Central-style red ceramic shingles. The Siam Society website acknowledges assistance from many sources. See http://www.siam-society.org/heritage/watsrabua.html. 6 According to a sign posted in front of the sim by the Fine Arts Department, the wat was founded in 1867, the sim was built in 1923, and the murals were painted in 1953. The date given for the paint3 4

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

187

its formal name is Wat Matchima Withayaram. Its murals, on the sim exterior, are devoted exclusively to scenes from the Vessantara Jataka, known in Lao as Pha Wetsandon Sadok, or simply Pha Wet. The story relates the Buddha’s penultimate existence as a prince, Pha Wet, and his unparalleled acts of generosity. His first great donation was his kingdom’s auspicious white elephant whose presence ensured adequate rainfall. After giving it to a Brahmin who requested it, he was banished to the forest for having put his kingdom at risk of drought. His wife Matsi and two children accompanied him. There he was approached by another Brahmin, Chuchok, who wanted the prince’s children as servants for his wife. The prince agreed, much to the distress of Matsi who found out later. His final act of generosity was to give his beloved wife to Pha In (the god Indra) disguised as a Brahmin, who thereupon revealed his identity and returned her to him. Having perfected the virtue of generosity, Pha Wet was invited back to the kingdom and welcomed by his parents along with throngs of royal attendants, musicians, dancers, and others. The murals at Wat Ban Lan (figures 5 and 6) are notable for the large size of the figures and landscape elements relative to the parameters of the panels. Another unusual feature is that the compositional principle on the side walls differs from that on the back (west) wall. The side walls are composed of three registers with figures that appear to be moving across the entire wall, from one panel to another. The north wall depicts scenes from the early chapters of the story, in which Pha Wet and his family travel from the kingdom to the forest, while the south wall depicts their return from the forest to the kingdom. This type of organizational scheme, with figures moving across the register as if on a journey or in a procession, is typical of Isan heartland narrative murals. Here, however, the back wall is not divided into registers; instead, the mural depicts a forest setting that provides a backdrop for all the scenes that take place in the forest. This type of scheme is characteristic of Central region murals. The palette here is limited to diverse shades of indigo, brown, and aquamarine along with touches of white and black. Originally, natural colors were used, derived from the bark and leaves of plants such as indigo and cinnabar. Over the years, however, some parts appear to have been retouched using chemical dyes. The blue tones stand out, particularly in the forest scene on the back wall. Despite the few colors the artist had at his disposal (the artist is likely to have been male), he created rich textures, particularly in the foliage, through varied and skillful brushstrokes. The feathery brushwork of the tree canopies is reminiscent of impressionistic painting and adds a serene, dreamlike quality to the paintings. A similar feeling is evoked through the faces of the main characters whose softly arched features and gentle, sweet expressions convey a humble acceptance of their fate. Figures of divine beings and royalty, such as Wetsandon and Matsi, have delicate figures and features and wear highly attenuated crowns. Their postures may be called “natural”, for want of a better word, in contrast to the stylized dance-drama Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

188

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

(lakhon) type of postures typically found in mural painting in other parts of Isan and the Central Region. The latter have the mannered gestures and exaggerated leg positions seen in the lakhon and the nang yai, the classical giant shadow puppet theater. In contrast, most Isan heartland figures have less theatrical stances. At Wat Ban Lan, the graceful, curved fingers of the hands exhibit a hybrid character, as does the composition itself. Postures, however, are natural. The drawing of human and divine figures here, as in most Thai art, follows conventions that are typical in shadow puppets found throughout Southeast Asia. For example, the faces of heroic male characters are drawn in profile, which imparts a sense of movement and energy. By contrast, females and spiritually advanced males, such as the Buddha, are drawn full face or three-quarter face, giving them a stable, tranquil demeanor. Standing figures, both males and females, are drawn in poses somewhat similar to the tribhanga (“three bends”) found in Indian sculpture; that is, the shoulders are drawn parallel to the picture plane, the torso is twisted so that the waist and hips are shown three-quarters, and the knees and feet face forward, parallel to the viewer. Such stylization in postures typifies the figures at Wat Ban Lan, but not those at the other two sites under discussion. In the scenes here, certain details appear to have been deliberately damaged by scratching of the surface of the walls. On closer examination, the scratches clearly are acts of censorship and the obliterated details are, not surprisingly, parts of the human anatomy. Such scratches appear on the pelvic area of the Brahmin Chuchok, a dark male figure. In another example (figure 7), a withiyathon (a forest-dwelling magician known for using meditation to gain supernatural powers) is depicted lying on his back ogling several nari phon (“maiden fruit”) figures dangling from a tree. Here, as in other murals in the region, the maiden fruits are clad in nothing more than jewelry. The Traiphum Phra Ruang includes such trees among the wonders of the Himaphan forest and compares their fruits to “maidens who have just reached sixteen years of age. When men see them, they fall in love with them…” (Reynolds, 1982: 291–292). As for the withiyathon in the painting, he does to appear to be smitten—either through love or simple lust—with the sight of the nubile forms in front of him. The viewer can easily imagine the erect body part that was censored. The interjection of such bawdy details is a common feature of heartland murals. (2) Wat Sanuan Wari Phatthanaram. Located in Ban Nong Ngeo, Tambon ing seems late; it may refer to a restoration rather than the original painting, as there are numerous signs of repainting on both the interior and exterior murals. Moreover, captions on the murals can be found in both the Thai Noi script, which was used locally in former times, and in the Central Thai script, suggesting that the former are original and that the latter are later additions.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

189

Ban Phai, Amphoe Ban Phai, the sim has murals on both the outside and inside,6 unlike that at Wat Ban Lan discussed above. The exterior walls are covered primarily with scenes from the Sinsai epic, which begin on the south wall and move clockwise around the building, interrupted by a panel of hell scenes on the west wall. The interior walls are devoted exclusively to the Vessantara Jataka, like those at Wat Ban Lan. Sinsai, known among the Central Thai as Sang Sinchai, is one of the most popular stories in the Isan heartland and is re-enacted in the vigorous regional shadow theater, nang pramo thai. The epic appears to have originated in Laos and shares many motifs with the Ramakien and the Phra Lam Chadok (Lao: Pha Lam Sadok), the Lao Rama story. The main character is Sinsai, a prince and Bodhisattva (Chob, 2007: 1–3). As in the various tellings of the Thai version of the Ramayana epic, Sinsai involves the abduction and rescue of a princess by a giant (yaksha) who has fallen in love with her. It is full of extraordinary, magical events and has a leading character known for his heroic actions and sexual prowess. In Sinsai, however, it is not the abducted woman’s consort who rescues her, as in the Ramakien, but her nephews, the three sons of her brother the king. They all have unusual physical attributes: Sinsai, the most human-looking of the trio, holds a sword and bow and arrow (which he was born with); Siho is a khotchasi, a mythical lion-like animal with elephant tusks and trunk; and Sang Thong has a body that is part-human, part-conch (figure 8). In their quest to rescue their aunt, numerous adventures, romantic encounters, and battles ensue. In one scene Sang Thong transforms himself into a boat to allow his brother to pursue the giant who has crossed a stream. In another, Sinsai comes upon a grove of nari phon trees, again surrounded by withiyathon, as at Wat Ban Lan, above (figure 9). The latter are depicted with dark skin and exposed, exaggerated phalluses, obviously aroused at the sight of the maiden fruit. However, Sinsai, unlike the withiyathon, maintains his dignity and successfully establishes a liaison with one of the maiden fruits. Being a prince and Bodhisattva, his advanced spirituality gives him control over his passions, so he is not depicted in an aroused state like the devious magicians. In the course of the long siege, the giant is killed and regenerated numerous times, but Sinsai finally finishes him off and the family is reunited in the royal city. At Wat Sanuan Wari (the last word in the name, “Phatthanaram”, is dropped in common parlance) the artist has made the same creative use of a limited palette as at Wat Ban Lan. Again, indigo predominates with a selective use of brown and aquamarine, as with the figures of animals and birds, respectively. Aquamarine is also found in the details of foliage and in such clothing as the bandoliers worn by princely figures. The effect, however, is totally different from that at Wat Ban Lan because the composition is defined by the open space of an off-white background, rather than by dense foliage. The paintings here could be called classic examples of village folk art. The figures are limited to essential components and their postures Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

190

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

only approximate the conventions of murals and shadow puppets seen elsewhere. Male figures, apart from the giants, are drawn mainly in profile with no twist to the body, while females are drawn frontally, nearly parallel to the picture plane. Their feet point in the direction in which they are going. While lacking the energetic tension of their counterparts in Central Region mural art, they nonetheless express a wide range of emotions, from excitement to grief, through basic gestures like pointing their fingers and covering their eyes (figure 10). To dismiss these murals for a lack of sophistication and artistic quality would be to ignore the exuberant, unaffected expression of the local imagination. The murals on the interior walls of Wat Sanuan Wari depict scenes from the 13 chapters of the Vessantara Jataka, known in Lao as Pha Wetsandon Chadok or Pha Wet. Like those on the outside, the interior figures are simply and expressively presented. The paintings are organized into two horizontal registers of panels separated by vertical decorative borders (figure 11), reflecting the compositional scheme of pha phra wet (transcription of Thai, not Lao), the horizontal cloth scrolls used in Bun Pha Wet or Vessantara Jataka festivals that take place annually in virtually every wat in Isan (see the scroll in figure 12). The narrative begins on the side wall to the left of the back wall, in the upper right corner (hence, adjacent to the back wall), and proceeds counter-clockwise. Each register is divided into panels, as with cloth scrolls, for a total of 13 panels; each of the 13 panels corresponds to one of the 13 jataka chapters. Unfortunately one commentator, Gerhard Jaiser, apparently was not aware of the existence of such cloth scrolls, for he compares the mural compositions instead to a comic strip (2009: 78–79). Jaiser also misreads the role of the captions in the murals, surmising that the artist “could not rely upon the knowledge of the observers” (2009: 78). While the captions undoubtedly served a didactic function, they also appear to be a direct influence from pha phra wet scrolls, that also bear captions with the name of the respective jataka tale. Significantly, in Bun Phra Wet recitations of Isan, local Buddhist laypeople are well aware of the chapter names and events as they listen to the recitations and sponsor their favorite chapters. Jaiser appears to disapprove of the bawdy scenes in Isan murals, for he writes: “the scenes of local life are dominant and sometimes rude. One wonders if what is shown on these walls really happened during processions in Isan during that time.” Jaiser was referring to scenes like that in figure 13, of a characteristic theme found in both cloth scrolls and Isan heartland mural paintings of the final procession back to capital of the Vessantara Jataka. The bawdy detail in the lower right corner here is bolder than most; more commonly, men are dancing and wrapping their arms and legs around the women. For an understanding of why bawdy elements are included in some Isan murals (as well as in murals elsewhere in the country), the socio-historical context must be considered in which the murals were created. What might seem shocking to Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

191

a Westerner in the 21st century might not necessarily have been viewed in the same way to an Isan villager 100 years earlier. The narratives portrayed in temple murals stem from a vigorous oral tradition of story-telling throughout Southeast Asia that was manifested in various ways, depending on the locale: sermons, shadow plays, dance drama, and moh lam performances are just a few examples. From Burma to Indonesia, night-long recitations and performances were, and often still are, held in conjunction with religious or merit-making festivals, funeral wakes, and rituals intended to repay deities or spirits for a favor. Deeply entrenched in this tradition is a love of humor, especially bawdy humor. Examples can also be found throughout literary works such as Khun Chang Khun Phaen, which grew out a tradition of oral folk performance by troubadours in the Central Region. In this famous story, Khun Chang is a buffoon-like character whose sexual bumblings have their counterpart in the bawdy scenes here. Moreover in southern Thailand, the most sacred character in shadow play, Ai Teng, has a prominent forefinger in the shape of a phallus. Along with literature, religious sermons in the past sometimes included not only moral teachings, but also humorous, slapstick passages aimed at keeping the audience attentive and interested. For example, Phra Malai Klon Suat, the religious treatise formerly chanted or sung at funeral wakes in the central and southern regions, contains descriptions of beings suffering in hell, one of whom has a grossly enlarged scrotum so long and heavy that he carries it slung over his shoulder like a yam bag (Brereton, 1995: 115). Chanting of the text included farcical singing and performance. Moreover, in pre-modern times, Buddhist village festivals included play between the sexes. Historian Kamala Tiyavanich’s writings about early 20th century Buddhist culture shed light on activities that involved competing male and female principles that, she notes, sometimes became “unruly”. Such events, she writes, were “ritual occasions during which people could rebel against the normal order with impunity” (Kamala, 1997: 26–28). Early in the 20th century, villagers would not have responded to such scenes in the same way as would a 21st-century Westerner, a Bangkokian, or even a resident of a provincial capital such as Khon Kaen city. More importantly, the existence of such bawdy scenes should not be blown out of proportion, since they are relatively few in number compared with depictions of the main story line. They can hardly be called erotic or pornographic; they are more akin to graffiti. Moreover, crudely drawn characters such as the withayathon obviously lack virtue. (3) Wat Sa Bua Kaew. Some 90 kilometers distant from the two other temples, the temple is located in Ban Wang Khun, Tambon Nong Mek, Amphoe Nong Song Hong. Like Wat Sanuan Wari, it has murals on both the exterior and interior walls of the sim. The interior murals are relatively open, uncrowded compositions of finely drawn line figures. Although they appear to be the work of at least one of the artists who painted the exterior murals, they are much less cramped and reflect a Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

192

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

brighter palette, with red used for the monks’ robes and a warm yellow for the skin tones of the Bodhisattva and members of the Sangha. The three previous Buddhas and Gotama are portrayed, along with scenes from the Sinsai story and the Buddha’s life, including the Four Sights, the Great Renunciation, the Mara Vijaya, and the Parinirvana. In the Isan heartland, mural depictions of the Buddha’s biography are generally limited to these events rather than many other episodes that are found elsewhere. Details of these scenes at Wat Sa Bua Kaew are particularly charming and idiosyncratic. For example, in the Four Sights, the Bodhisattva’s chariot is a low-slung, open vehicle that seems to portray a villager’s fantasy of an early-model automobile (figure 14). The exterior compositions are remarkably different from those inside: each panel is divided into several registers, many of which are filled with rows of figures and tightly packed narrative scenes (see figure 4). They are much denser and much more detailed than those at the other two wat. They depict scenes from Pha Lam Sadok, the Lao version of the Rama epic. Significantly, the Lao version is a Buddhist rather than a Hindu story—a jataka in which Lak and Lam are twin brothers, the latter a Bodhisattva. It has been called “one of the most complex pieces of Lao classical literature to have been produced” (Wilson, 2009: 139–140), integrating themes from the jataka tradition, the Ramayana, Lao poetry, and folktales. It consists of two tales: the first tells of rivalry between two branches of a family, while the second follows the traditional Rama story along with many unique subplots and magical elements. In the first, the monkey general Hanuman (in Lao: Haluman) is Pha Lam’s son. He was conceived after his father ate a fruit that caused him to be transformed into a simian after which he had a romantic encounter with a female monkey. In the second, Totsakan the giant (known as Hapmanasun) is the father of Nang Sida, who was conceived after he seduced one of Indra’s wives by tricking her into thinking that he was her husband. The wife, in revenge for the deceit, arranged for her rebirth as her own daughter, Sida, in order to kill her father the giant. Before she could kill him, however, the plot was discovered and the infant was sent down a river on a raft fashioned into a tiny palace, which a hermit found; upon which he adopted her (figure 15). Wat Sa Bua Kaew may be one of the more famous temples in Isan because of the publicity generated from the Siam Society’s efforts to raise funds for replacing its roof. Only a few years earlier, its indigenous low-pitched, broad-winged roof had been replaced by a steep-pitched Central-style model that exposed the murals below to the elements. Her Royal Highness Princess Galayani Vadhana presided over the dedication of the new roof in February 2001. The murals are deservedly regarded as an important repository of local culture, for they are a veritable catalogue of portraits of pre-modern village life and practices, including childbirth customs, clothing and hair styles, livelihoods, weaponry, and other facets. Interpreting the scenes, however, is challenging, for the walls are divided into meandering registers Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

193

in which every available space is filled. While much of the drawing is fine and even delicate, the quality is uneven and appears to be the work of several hands. The postures or perspectives of the figures are generally similar to those at the second site, Wat Sanuan Wari, in that female figures—even those walking—are drawn full face, while their feet are pointed in the direction in which they are moving. Male figures, however, are portrayed from a variety of angles, depending on what they are doing, and therefore appear more natural in style (figure 16). The painters seem to have been aware of conventions used elsewhere, but apparently were less concerned with following them than with creating lively, expressive narratives. In so doing they invented their own unique style. Conclusion The present tour of mural paintings at three temples in northeastern Thailand has revealed some defining characteristics of an Isan heartland style of painting. The most telling are the 1. Location on the outside of sim, where the murals completely cover the surface of the walls. 2. Creative use of a limited, blue-dominated palette against an off-white background. 3. Highly decorative quality achieved through the use of borders around corners, doorways, and windows. 4. Composition based on horizontal movement around the building. 5. Artistic freedom in drawing the postures of the human and divine figures. 6. Use of brief captions. 7. Incidental inclusion of bawdy scenes as entertainment as well as moralistic reminders. At the same time, the murals at the three sites differ from each other significantly so that each wat offers a totally different experience. This uniqueness is itself one of the most important characteristics of the heartland school and Isan painting in general. The sum of these features establishes the creativity and uniqueness in mural painting of the region. They are manifestly not inferior copies of Central region originals but distinctive works of art reflecting the local Buddhist imagination and way of life.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

194

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

Bibliography Boisselier, Jean. 1976. Thai Painting. Tr. by Janet Seligman. Tokyo: Kodansha International.

Brereton, Bonnie Pacala. 1995. Thai Tellings of Phra Malai: Texts and Rituals Concerning a Popular Buddhist Saint. Tempe, Arizona: Arizona State University, Program for Southeast Asian Studies. Brereton, Bonnie Pacala and Somroay Yencheuy. 2007. “Traditional Shadow Theater of Northeastern Thailand (Nang Pramo Thai): Hardy Transplant or Endangered Species?”, Aséanie, No. 19: 13–143. Brereton, Bonnie Pacala and Somroay Yencheuy. 2010. Buddhist Murals of Northeast Thailand: Reflections of the Isan Heartland. Chiang Mai: Mekong Press. Cadet, John. 1971. The Ramakien: The Thai Epic. Tokyo: Kodansha International. Cate, Sandra and Lefferts, H. Leedom, Jr. (n. d.) “Becoming Active/Active Becoming: Prince Vessantara Scrolls and the Creation of a Moral Community”. [MS, not publ.] Center for South East Asian Studies. 2003. Phra Lak–Phra Lam: A Previous Life of the Buddha. Vo Thu Tinh’s abridged translation of the manuscript from Wat Kang Tha, Vientiane; Wat Oup Mong frescoes (1938) by Thit Panh. Lao Language and Cultural Learning Resources. © SEAsite Laos. Dekalb, Illinois: Northern Illinois University. Available from http://www.seasite.niu. edu/Lao/otherTopics/PhralakPhralam/index.htm. Chob Disuankok. 2007. Wannakam pheun ban Sin Sai. Khon Kaen, Thailand: Samnak kansueksa thesaban nakhon khon kaen. Cone, Margaret and Gombrich, Richard F. 1977. The Perfect Generosity of Prince Vessantara. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Fine Arts Department. Mahachat samuan isan. [the Isan version of the Vessantara Jataka.] Bangkok. Gerini, G.E. 1976. A Retrospective View and Account of the Origin of the Thet Maha Ch’at Ceremony. [Repr.; 1st ed. 1892.] Bangkok: Sathirakoses-Nagapradipa Foundation. Ginsburg, Henry. 1989. Thai Manuscript Painting. London: The British Library Board. Jaiser, Gerhard. 2009. Thai Mural Painting. Vol. 1: Iconography, Analysis & Guide. Bangkok: White Lotus. Kamala Tiyavanich. 1997. Forest Recollections: Wandering Monks in Twentieth-

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

195

Century Thailand. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Kamala Tiyavanich. 2003. The Buddha in the Jungle. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books. Lakkhana Chindawong, ed. 2000. Sim thi mi hup taem nai changwat roi et [sim that have murals in Roi-Et]. [In Thai.] Roi-Et, Thailand: Nuay anuraksa singwetlom lae thammachat. Lefferts, H. Leedom, Jr. 2004. “Village as Stage: Imaginative Space and Time in Rural Northeast Thai Lives”, Journal of the Siam Society 92: 129–144. Lefferts, H. Leedom, Jr. 2006/2007. “The Bun Phra Wet Painted Scrolls of Northeastern Thailand in the Walters Art Museum”, Journal of the Walters Art Museum 64/65: 99–118. Nidhi Eoseewong. 2005. Pen and Sail: Literature and History in Early Bangkok. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books. Pairote Samosorn. 1989. Chitrakam faphanang isan. E-sarn mural paintings. [In Thai and English]. Khon Kaen: Khon Kaen University, E-sarn Cultural Center. Reynolds, Frank E. and Mani B., tr. 1982. Three Worlds According to King Ruang: A Thai Cosmology. Berkeley: Asian Humanities Press, 1982. Richman, Paula, ed. 1991. Many Ramayanas: The Diversity of a Narrative Tradition in South Asia. Berkeley: University of California Press. Samnak ngan borankhadi lae phiphitaphan sathan haeng chat thi 7 khon kaen, krom silapakon. (n. d.) “Sim wat sa bua kaew, ban wang khun, tambon nong mek, amphoe nong song hong, changwat khonkaen”. [MS, not publ.] Sommai Premchit. 2001. Maha wetsandon chadok: wikhro thang sangkhom lae watthanatham [the Maha Vessantara Jataka: a sociocultural analysis]. [In Thai; privately publ.] Chiang Mai, Thailand. Somroay Yencheuy. 2002. Sin Sai. [In Thai.] Khon Kaen, Thailand: Siriphan Offset Printing. Sonthiwan Intralib. 1994. Thai Traditional Paintings. Bangkok: Amarin. Sumalee Ekachonniyom. 2006. Hup taem nai sim isan. Ngan sin song fang khong. Bangkok: Mathichon Publishing Co. Suriya Smutkupt and others. 1991 [2534]. Ekkasan prakop nithatsakan bun phawet khong chao`isan : kanwikhro lae ti khwammai thang manutsayawitthaya [bun phawes of Isan : an anthropological interpretation]. Hong Patibatkan thang Manutsayawitthaya khong `Isan, Phak Wicha Sangkhommawitthaya, lae Manutsayawitthaya, Khana Manutsayasat, Mahawitthayalai Khon Kaen. [In Thai with English summary.] Khon Kaen, Thailand: Khon Kaen University. Tirapong Sarapan. 1994. “Chitrakam fa phanang sim wat matchima withayaram amphoe ban phai changwat khon kaen [sim mural painting at Wat Matchima Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

196

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

Withayaram, Amphoe Ban Phai, Changwat Khon Kaen]”. Thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of master’s degree program, Sinakharinwirot University, Maha Sarakham. Utong Prasasvinitchai. 2008. Son wai nai sim: kor-or nai chiwit isan [hidden treasures]. Bangkok: Fullstop Publishing. Vo Thu Tinh. 1972. Phra Lak Phra Lam: Le Ramayana Lao et les fresques murales do Vat Oup Moung, Vientiane. Vientiane: Editions Vithagna. Wilson, Constance M., ed. 2009. The Middle Mekong River Basin: Studies in Tai History and Culture. Northern Illinois University Monograph Series on Southeast Asia, No. 9. DeKalb, Illinois: Northern Illinois University, Center for Southeast Asian Studies. Wiroj Srisuro. 1993. Isan Sim: Northeast Buddhist Holy Temples. [In Thai.] Bangkok: Toyota Foundation, Maeka Press.ß Wiroj Srisuro. 2003. “Isan Sims: Ordination Halls in Northeast Thailand”, The Buddhist Monastery: A Cross-cultural Survey. Pp. 131–148..

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

Figure 1. Sim at Wat Ban Lan

Figure 2. Old and new sim at Wat Sanuan Wari Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

197

198

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

Figure 3. Sim at Wat Sa Bua Kaew

Figure 4. Sim at Wat Sa Bua Kaew, east wall, stairs flanked by singha figures Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

Figure 5. Wat Ban Lan, south wall

Figure 6. Wat Ban Lan, west wall (partial) Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

199

200

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

Figure 7. Wat Ban Lan, forest scene with withayathorn and nari phon trees

Figure 8. Wat Sanuan Wari, exterior, Sinsai epic, three brothers Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

201

Figure 9. Wat Sanuan Wari, scene from Sinsai epic; Sinsai comes upon a grove of nari phon trees, surrounded by withiyathon.

Figure 10. Wat Sanuan Wari, scene from Sinsai epic; people watch in horror as the princess is abducted by the giant (upper left corner). Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

202

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

Figure 11. Wat Sanuan Wari, interior; depictions of Vessantara Jataka (Lao: Pha Wetsandon Sadok)

Figure 12. Pha Phra Wet scroll, housed at Wat Ban Lan. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Towards a Definition of ISAN MURAL PAINTING

203

Figure 13. Wat Sanuan Wari, interior; detail of figure 11, scene from the Jataka’s final chapter, the return to the city. Note the inclusion of bawdy elements in the lower right.

Figure 14. Wat Sa Bua Kaew, interior, Life of the Buddha: Four Sights Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

204

Bonnie Pacala Brereton

Figure 15. Wat Sa Bua Kaew, exterior, Pha Lam Sadok, Nang Sida being sent down the river on a palace-like raft.

Figure 16. Wa t S a B u a K a e w, exterior, Pha Lam Sadok; procession in honor of Hapmanasun. Note that here, as in the Pha Wet story, the procession scene includes scenes of blatant flirtation between the dancers.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

205

NOTE

Prominent Mon Lineages from Late Ayutthaya to Early Bangkok

Edward Van Roy

Thai history from the late 16th to the early 19th centuries saw a series of Mon migrations from the kingdom of Hongsawadi in the Irrawaddi delta and its dependencies along the Andaman seaboard to the safe haven offered by the successive Siamese capitals of Ayutthaya, Thonburi, and Bangkok. Each of those flights from Burmese expansionist oppression was led by Mon chiefs who were rewarded with senior ranks, titles, and military functions in the Siamese nobility. They founded prominent lineages which retained their Mon ethnic identity over many generations of Siamese residence.1 The dizzying swirl of intermarriages among those Mon noble lineages and between them and the Thai aristocracy offer unique insights into the social organization and political role of the Mon elite in Siam over the course of a particularly turbulent period of Thai history.

Some Mon Noble Lineages2

[1] Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan) As a Mon chief (saming, a Mon term of rank roughly equivalent to the Thai chao or phraya), Chuan3 apparently arrived at Ayutthaya with a large body This Note supplements the foregoing Article, “Safe Haven: Mon Refugees at the Capitals of Siam from the 1500s to the 1800s”, in the present volume of Journal of the Siam Society.––Ed. 1 Ultimately, Mon ethnicity must be gauged in terms of self-identification; but as that essentially intangible indicator is not readily retrievable from the historical record other than through folk memory, such proxies as kindred, title, and personal name have here been relied on. For instance, one of the many means whereby the Mon sought to demonstrate their ethnicity in Siamese exile was the frequent use of personal names that included the syllable “thong” (“tho” in the Mon language), meaning “gold”—reminiscent, perhaps, of the ancient Mon homeland of Suvannabhumi, the Golden Land. That ethnic device is highlighted here with the hyphenation of all personal names that include either of those two syllables. However, care must be taken in using that ethnic identifier, as it was neither exclusively nor invariably a Mon usage. 2 The following lineages have been grouped into five major clusters, each stemming from a single immigrant patriarch. In an attempt to deal with their complexity, the main entries under each lineage cluster are identified numerically in square brackets. 3 Like several other personal names attributed to Mon nobles of the Ayutthaya and Thonburi periods, “Chuan” was not a Mon personal name. It may have been a Thai equivalent for a Mon name of different pronunciation, possibly “Choern.” Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

206

Edward Van Roy

of followers fleeing Burmese oppression during the reign of King Boromakot (1733–1758) and was awarded the title of Phraya Thewarangsi. During the reign of King Ekatat (1758–1767) he was appointed Chakri Mon, chief of Siam’s Mon community, carrying the title of Phraya Ram Chaturong. He died in 1767 in the fighting that culminated in the fall of Ayutthaya. He and Phraya Phetburi (Roeang) [3] were putative (possibly fictive) brothers. It appears that, through another close relative, possibly a younger sister and her Thai husband, they were both uncles of Nok-iang (Princess-Mother Thepamat), the mother of King Taksin.4 Three of Chuan’s children established their own lines of descent: Thaw Songkandan (Thong-mon) [1a], Phraya Nakhon In (Ma Khon) [1b], and Khunying Paen [1c].

[1a] Thaw Songkandan (Thong-mon)—As a daughter of Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan), Thong-mon (or Moei-tho in Mon) was a putative niece of Phraya Phetburi (Roeang) [3] and thus apparently a cousin of King Taksin’s mother, Nok-iang. She married a minor prince (mom chao) of Ayutthaya, but there is uncertainty as to his identity.5 Whatever the case, he died in the chaotic aftermath of the fall of Ayutthaya, leaving the widowed Thong-mon and her children to weather the storm and find their way to Thonburi. There she was provided with a place in the “Thonburi Grand Palace”, in the royal entourage of her kinswoman, Princess-Mother Thepamat (Nok-iang). After Nok-iang’s death in 1775, Thong-mon was assigned her former duties as guardian of the Inside, including the royal treasury, and with that important new function she received the eminent title of Thaw Songkandan.6 Thaw Songkandan and her children personified the historic watershed linking the Ayutthaya and Bangkok eras, being among the few survivors of the last generation of Ayutthaya’s aristocracy and contributing to both the Taksin and As the daughter of a Thai man and as the younger sister of Phraya Phetburi (Roeang) and Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan), it is problematic whether Nok-iang would have retained her Mon ethnic identity through her parents’ (inter-ethnic) marriage and her own subsequent inter-ethnic marriage to a Chinese trader—and whether she would have passed any sense of that Mon ethnicity on to her son, the future King Taksin. 5 Most sources claim that he was a son of Prince Thep Phiphit, who sought to establish a new kingdom at Phimai after the fall of Ayutthaya and who was overcome and executed by Taksin. Others suggest that he was a son of Prince Chit, who was elevated to the rule of Phisanulok in the aftermath of Ayutthaya’s fall and died soon thereafter in the fighting against the Burmese. 6 Over the course of the Chakri dynasty the title of Thaw Songkandan was awarded to a succession of royal consorts. The function accompanying that title was, however, restricted to guardianship of the king’s personal treasury, with other administrative functions concerning the Inside (e.g., the kitchens, sanitary facilities, religious affairs, medical concerns, policing) being divided among other senior court ladies with the title thaw (e.g., Thaw Worachan, Thaw Inthara Suriya, Thaw Si Sacha, Thaw Rachakit Worapat, Thaw Sucharit Thamrong). 4

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

207

Chakri royal lineages. Of her six children, the following are of genealogical interest:7

• Mom Thim—She was accepted as a consort by King Taksin and bore Prince Amphawan, who in turn married his cross-cousin, Chaem, a daughter of his uncle Mom Thap (Phra Akson Sombat, another of Thong-mon’s children). Of their six children, one daughter, Saeng, married Prince Phithak Thewet (Kunchon, a son of King Rama II), founder of the Kunchon royal lineage, and another, Phoeng, married Prince Rachasiha Wikrom (Chumsai, a son of King Rama III), founder of the Chumsai royal lineage.

• Mom On (Phra Si Wirot)—He married a daughter (name unknown) of Phraya Ratanachak.8 Their great-grandson Phraya Chaiyanan Phiphitaphong (Choei), governor of Chainat province during the fifth reign, was founder of the Chaiyanan lineage, related to the maternal kindred of King Rama III.

• Mom Thap (Phra Akson Sombat)—He married Phong, a daughter of Phraya Phathalung (Khun, nicknamed Khang Lek) and Paen [1c]. (Phong was Thap’s parallel cousin, as her mother, Paen, was a sister of Thong-mon.) Their daughter, Sap, was accepted as a consort by King Rama III and bore Prince Mataya Phithak (Siriwong, father of Princess Rampoei, who was raised to queen by King Rama IV and posthumously retitled Queen-Mother Thepsirin by King Rama V; and of Princess Lamom, who was raised by King Rama V to Princess Sudarat Rachaprayun).

• Mom Chim—She married Nai Nak, a son of Phraya Nonthaburi (Khanokchan, father of Riam, who was raised to Princess-Mother Si Sulalai by her son, King Rama III), a distant Mon kinsman. Their daughter Noi in turn married Phraya Si Saharat (Thong-pheng) [2c], a maternal grandson of Phraya Nakhon In (Ma Khon) [1b].

[1b] Phraya Nakhon In (Ma Khon) 9—As the eldest son of Phraya Ram Chaturong, he stood in a preferential position to succeed his father as senior

Mon military commander, or Chakri Mon. Why he was bypassed for that title As minor royalty, the children of a mom chao (prince), they bore the generic title of mom. (The lesser titles of mom rachawong and mom luang were not added until the fourth Chakri reign.) 8 The Mon noble holding the title of Phraya Ratanachak traditionally served as commander of Krom Athamat, one of the principal Mon regiments in the Siamese army. The Phraya Ratanachak (personal name unknown) mentioned here preceded Phraya Ratanachak (Hong-thong), who arrived in Siam in 1815 as Saming Sodbao. 9 Ma is a Mon honorific equivalent to the present-day Thai khun or than. 7

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

208

Edward Van Roy

and function is unknown. Instead, as Phraya Nakhon In, he served as commander of Krom Dap Song Moe, one of Siam’s several Mon military regiments. Nevertheless, his close association with the Chakri Mon continued through his marriage to a daughter (personal name unknown) of Phraya Ramanwong [2a], Chakri Mon during the Taksin reign. Phraya Nakhon In’s daughter Thong-khon married Nai Chamnan (Thong-khwan, grandson of a senior Mon noble of the Ayutthaya era). Their eldest son, Phraya Si Sahathep (Thong-pheng) [2c], continued this eminent line of descent as forebear of the Siphen lineage. A second daughter, Hun, married Chaophraya Mahintharasak Thamrong (Phen Phenkhun). Their daughter Morakot was accepted as a consort by King Chulalongkorn and bore two children, Princess Chutharak Rachakumari and Prince Phichai (Phenphatanaphong), founder of the Phenphat royal lineage.

[1c] Khunying Paen—She married Phraya Phathalung (Khun, nicknamed Khang Lek). Their daughter Klin was accepted as a consort of King Rama I and bore Prince Kraison Wichit (Suthat), founder of the Suthat royal lineage. Through their senior son, Thong-khaw, Phraya Phathalung and Paen were the forebears of the na Phathalung lineage.

[2] Phraya Noradecha (Ma Pu) It appears that Ma Pu had served as the Burmese-appointed governor of Yangon until joining a Mon rebellion in the 1750s. With his family and some 400 followers, he fled to Tenasserim and from there to Siamese asylum. At Ayutthaya, he received the title of Phraya Noradecha and was posted as commander of a Mon regiment. After the fall of Ayutthaya, he joined King Taksin at Thonburi and, with the new title of Phraya Phetracha, was placed in charge of the Ministry of the Capital (Krom Nakhonban),10 a position he held until his death in 1770. The most important of his children were Phraya Ramanwong (Ma Dot) [2a], Phraya Sunrintharamat (Ma Tho-poen) [2b], Phraya Palanukhit Montri (Bunkhong),11 Khunying Thong-in,12 Phraya Krai Kosa (Son),13 and Khunying The main duty of the minister of the capital was maintenance of law and order. The assignment of police functions to the Mon nobility, as an extension of their military role, appears as a recurring theme in the history of Mon noble lineages. 11 He served during the first Chakri reign as director of the Front Palace department of manpower registration. His wife, Khunying Sutchai, was a daughter of Phraya Racha Songkhram (Sawat) [4] and sister of Khunying Phawa (wife of Phraya Surintharamat [Ma Tho-poen] [2b]) and Khun Phrom (Sat). 12 She married Phraya Chasaenyakon (Thurian), serving as director of the Front Palace department of the north during the first Chakri reign. 13 He served during the second Chakri reign as director of the Front Palace department of trade. 10

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

209

Noi.14 (There is a lingering suspicion, however, that some of these individuals may have been children rather than siblings of Phraya Ramanwong and Phraya Sunrintharamat, especially as several of them continued to be active well into the 19th century.)

[2a] Phraya Ramanwong (Ma Dot)—As Saming Samanchong, a Mon official serving in Burmese-controlled Yangon under his father, Saming Noradecha (Ma Pu) [2], Ma Dot joined the Mon rebellion of the 1750s and ended up fleeing to Ayutthaya. There, he received the title of Luang Bamroe Pakdi, eventually rising to Phraya Bamroe Pakdi. It has been suggested that in the tumultuous final days of Ayutthaya, with Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan) dead, he was elevated to Chuan’s title in recognition of his leadership in battle.15 Following the fall of Ayutthaya, he and his followers found their way to Thonburi, where King Taksin in due course—possibly in 1770, after the death of Ma Dot’s father—conferred upon him the newly coined title of Phraya Ramanwong and appointed him Chakri Mon, head of Siam’s Mon community. He commanded Mon military detachments in the Ratburi campaign of 1775 and at the battle of Phisanulok in 1776 but after that remained at Thonburi in command of the Royal Guard, the main military force left behind to protect the capital during the frequent absence of the army on campaign. In the strife that led to the abdication of King Taksin in mid-March 1782, and in the ensuing turmoil that culminated in the enthronement of Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek (Thong-duang) as the first Chakri king (today generally referred to as King Rama I) a few weeks later, Phraya Ramanwong and his troops remained loyal to Taksin. As a result, he was executed along with numerous other opponents of the Chakri faction in the days immediately following the first Chakri king’s enthronement. However, his family was spared, and so his lineage survived. Of his sons, the most prominent were Phraya Si Sorarat (Ngoen, Ma Dot’s successor in continuing the Ramanwong lineage), Phraya Surasena (Khum, forebear of the Surakhup lineage),16 and Phraya Ram (Bu). In addition, one of Phraya Ramanwong’s daughters, Klin, married Phraya Chula Rachamontri (Nam), chief of Siam’s Muslim community during the late third and fourth She married Phraya Chula Rachamontri (Thoean), chief of Siam’s Muslim community during the second and third Chakri reigns. She changed her religious affiliation to Islam to match that of her husband. 15 However, that promotion is problematic in the presence of his father, Ma Pu, who would surely have been awarded the title first on grounds of familial seniority. 16 Phraya Surasena (Khum) married Klip, a daughter of Phraya Ratanachak (Hong-thong). They had four children, one of whom was Phraya Rachasuphawadi (Pan), whose son, Phraya Mahanuphap (Pim), directed the construction of Wat Makut Kasatayaram during the fourth Chakri reign. 14

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

210

Edward Van Roy

Chakri reigns. Their son, Sin, inherited his father’s title of Phraya Chula Rachamontri, chief of Siam’s Muslim community during the fifth Chakri reign.

[2b] Phraya Surintharamat (Ma Tho-poen)—He was a much younger brother of Phraya Ramanwong, born in Siam. During the Thonburi period he served as an aide to Chaophraya Surasi (Bunma, royal viceroy during the first Chakri reign), and his sons continued in that affiliation into the Bangkok era. His wife, Khunying Phawa, was a daughter of Phraya Racha Songkhram (Sawat) [4]. Their three sons, Phraya Rachasuphawadi (Khun-thong), Phraya Rachanukhun (Thong-kham), and Phraya Thepworachun (Thong-ho), are remembered for their collaboration during the third Chakri reign in rebuilding Wat Khun Phrom, dedicated to the memory of their uncle, Khun Phrom (Sat), their mother’s brother. Wat Khun Phrom was renamed Wat Sam Phraya by King Rama III in their honor.

[2c] Phraya Si Sahathep (Thong-pheng)—He was the son of Nai Chamnan (Thong-khwan), who was, in turn, said to be a son of Luang Raksena (Chamrat) and grandson of Phraya Chasaenyakon (Charun) of the late Ayutthaya era.17 Thong-pheng’s maternal grandparents were Phraya Nakhon In (Ma Khon) [1b] and a daughter (personal name unknown) of Phraya Ramanwong (Ma Dot) [2a]. So on his mother’s side Thong-pheng was descended from three leading Mon nobles of Ayutthaya, Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan) [1], Phraya Noradecha (Ma Pu, father of Ma Dot) [2], and Phraya Chasaenyakon (Charun).18 Thong-pheng married Noi, a daughter of Nai Nak (himself a son of Phraya Nonthaburi19) and Mom Chim (a daughter of Thaw Songkandan). Nai Nak’s sister Riam (eventually retitled Queen-Mother Si Sulalai) was accepted as a consort of King Rama II and bore Prince Chesada Bodin (Thap), who became the third Chakri king (Rama III). Thong-pheng thus entered the entourage of Prince Chesada Bodin. With such impeccable connections, he enjoyed many advantages. From initial service as a clerk in the Ministry of Civil Affairs and the North (Krom Mahadthai) he rose swiftly to Moen Phiphit Akson, then Luang Si Sena, and finally Phraya Si Sahathep, in charge of teak timber tax collections. Thong-khwan and Thong-pheng are solidly Mon personal names. Charun and Chamrat, however, are said to be modern Thai personal names. That anomalous nomenclature sequence remains unexplained. 18 Thong-pheng’s father, Nai Chamnan (Thong-khwan), followed common practice under the Mon/Thai bilateral kinship system in taking up residence in his wife’s home and ultimately sharing in her inheritance, which is how Thong-pheng ended up gaining possession of the property of his maternal ancestors. 19 Phraya Nonthaburi (Khanokchan) is said to have been a distant relation of Phraya Nakhon In (Ma Khon). 17

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

211

Phraya Si Sahathep (Thong-pheng) was the forebear of the Siphen lineage. Among his sons were Phraya Si Sahathep (Phoeng), who established the Siphen surname, Phraya Si Singhathep (Run), and Phraya Nikon Kitikan (Kak, or Ong-naewchan in Mon), who served as governor of Phrae during the sixth reign. [3] Phraya Phetburi (Roeang) As putative brother of Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan) [1], Roeang presumably arrived in Siam with him during the reign of Ayutthaya’s King Boromakot. Around 1757, not long after his arrival, he was appointed governor of the Mon population center and naval base of Phetburi. As a close relative of Thaw Songkandan (Thong-mon), he was in turn related to Princess-Mother Thepamat (Nok-iang). However, he had no opportunity to benefit from those illustrious kinship ties at the Thonburi court, as he survived the fall of Ayutthaya only to fall in battle soon thereafter, during the course of King Taksin’s southern campaign of 1769. The most important of his sons were Chaophraya Phichai Racha (personal name unknown) [3a] and Chaophraya Surabodin Surinroechai (Bunmi) [3b].

[3a] Chaophraya Phichai Racha (personal name unknown)—As governor of Sawankhalok, he was also commonly known as Chaophraya Sawankhalok. He was executed for the crime of unwittingly insulting King Taksin by seeking his consent to marry one of his ladies in-waiting whom the king had already bedded and made pregnant.20 Prior to that ill-fated petition for an addition to his personal harem, Chaophraya Phichai Racha had already had two wives. His senior wife was Mom Sopha, a survivor of the Ayutthaya royal family. Their daughter, Im, married Phraya Phochana Phimon (Thong-yu), a Mon noble of unknown lineage. During the Thonburi period Thong-yu served as a monk at Wat Rakhang carrying the senior ecclesiastical title of Phra Wanarat. In that capacity, he served as mentor to Chim (later King Rama II), the eldest son of Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek. At the start of the first Chakri reign, he was disrobed for his transgressions under King Taksin, but in view of his scholarly qualifications he was in due course appointed to a post in the Royal Pages Corps (Krom Mahadlek), eventually rising to Phraya Phochana Phimon. Having returned to the laity and married a daughter of Chaophraya Phichai Racha, he presented his daughter, Em, as a consort to King Rama II. The king could not, however, accept a daughter of his former spiritual mentor, so passed her to his eldest son, Prince A softened version of that tale has it that his offense consisted of his claim to being a brother-inlaw of King Taksin. 20

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

212

Edward Van Roy

Chesada Bodin (later King Rama III). Em was accepted as a consort by Prince Chesada Bodin and bore Prince Chumsai (eventually raised to Prince Rachasiha Wikrom), founder of the Chumsai royal lineage. Chaophraya Phichai Racha’s other wife was Than Phuying Bunmi. Her son, Chaophraya Surabodin Surinroechai (Bunchi, not to be confused with his identically titled uncle, Bunmi [3b]), in turn had many children, the most memorable among them being Long, who rose to Chaophraya Pholathep, head of the Ministry of Lands (Krom Na), during the third Chakri reign and was forebear of the Bunlong lineage.

[3b] Chaophraya Surabodin Surinreochai (Bunmi)—He appears not to have survived the fall of Ayutthaya and is remembered solely through his son Hon, whose full Mon name is said to have been Hon-thong. As Luang Sorawichit, Hon was posted during the Thonburi period to Uthaithani, a key upriver Mon refugee way station and settlement area. During the civil strife at Thonburi in 1782 he kept Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek, who was absent with the army on campaign in Cambodia, informed of developments. He was duly rewarded by King Rama I with the post of director of the Merchandise Warehouse Department (Krom Khlang Sinkha) carrying the title of Phraya Phiphat Kosa, and he was later raised to the exalted position of Chaophraya Phra Khlang, head of the Ministry of Trade and Foreign Affairs (Krom Phra Khlang). His children included Phum, a childless consort of King Rama II, and Nim, another consort of King Rama II and mother of Prince Dechadison (Mang), forebear of the Dechatiwong royal lineage. [4] Phraya Racha Songkhram (Sawat) Phraya Naranukhit Montri (Nu) was another of the many Mon chiefs who entered the service of King Boromakot. His eldest son, Sawat, served in Ayutthaya’s Front Palace Pages Corps (Mahadlek Wang Na) under Prince Sena Phithak (Kung) and then Prince Uthumphon (Dok-madua), with the junior title of Nai Narin Thibet. When Ayutthaya fell in 1767 Sawat was captured by the Burmese. Discovering his Thai-Mon bilingual skills, his captors appointed him to a captaincy of the war prisoners being conveyed to Pegu. They then conscripted him to serve as an officer in their campaign to take Chiangmai. Heading the levy of Siamese captives forced to serve the Burmese on the Chiangmai campaign with Sawat was Chaophraya Aphai Montri, one of the most senior of the nobles carried off from Ayutthaya. When Chaophraya Aphai Montri died on the march, Nai Saeng, his son, along with Sawat and their company of conscripts, defected to the Thai forces commanded by Chaophraya Chakri (Thong-duang). Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

213

Upon arrival at Thonburi, Sawat was appointed to the Ministry of Civil Affairs and the North (Krom Mahadthai, headed by Chaophraya Chakri) with the title of Luang Chat Surenthon. He subsequently fought in the battle of Bang Kaew, Ratburi (1775) and for his valor was promoted to Phra Racha Songkhram. Later he participated in the siege of Phisanulok (1776) and was promoted to Phraya Racha Songkhram. His continuing subaltern’s role in the military campaigns led by Chaophraya Maha Kasatsoek ensured his affiliation with the Chakri faction in the events leading to the dynastic transition of 1782. But his bright prospects ended with his death shortly before the end of the Thonburi era. Sawat married Lamun, a daughter of Phraya Wichitmali, a provincial governor under King Taksin. They had four children. One of their daughters, Phawa, moved out when she married Phraya Surintharamat (Ma Tho-poen) [2b], and the other, Sutchai, left upon marrying Phraya Palanukhit Montri (Bunkhong). Their son Trut, too, moved out to live with his wife downriver at Ban Tawai, where his government service eventually earned him the title of Luang Wisut Yothamat. That left only their son, Sat, who attained the minor title of Khun Phrom. Sat continued to administer the family’s lucrative business interests and inherited the family residence, and when he died without progeny the lineage was left dispersed.

[5] Chaophraya Mahayotha (Cheng) His father, the Mon governor of Myawadi, a Burmese principality across the frontier from Mae Sot, was reputedly a younger brother of Banya Dala, the last independent Mon ruler of Hongsawadi prior to its final fall to the Burmese in 1757. Under the Burmese, Cheng (Choeng in Mon) served as a military officer in the incursions into the Lao states, attaining the senior title of Saming Kiat. At Chiangsaen he was appointed military commissioner and took a daughter of the former ruler as his consort; their son was the ancestor of the na Lampang lineage. Cheng was subsequently promoted by his Burmese overlords to the governorship of Troen (Ataran), a subsidiary of Martaban fronting the Three Pagodas Pass. After years of service to the Burmese, he became involved in a Mon uprising and in 1775 fled to Thonburi as leader of a contingent of some 3,000 troops, part of a larger Mon migration totaling some 10,000. King Taksin awarded him a military commission along with the title of Phraya Cheng, under the administrative authority of Phraya Ramanwong (Ma Dot) [2a], chief of Siam’s Mon military. Friction soon arose between the two Mon leaders, however, as Phraya Cheng, though younger and a newer arrival, considered himself to hold senior status (of royal descent) within the Mon social hierarchy. That conflict came to a head in the factional strife following the abdication of King Taksin, with Phraya Ramanwong remaining loyal to the Thonburi regime (temporarily coopted by Phraya San) while Phraya Cheng sided with the Chakri faction. Upon Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

214

Edward Van Roy

the victory of the Chakri faction and the installation of its leader as the first Chakri king, Phraya Ramanwong was executed, while Phraya Cheng was rewarded with promotion to Phraya Mahayotha as the new Mon military chief.21 In 1785 the Burmese mounted yet another massive invasion of Siam. The Thai responded with an attack on the invaders at Tambon Lat Ya, Kanchanaburi. Phraya Mahayotha participated in that battle as leader of a 3,000-man Mon regiment. He and his troops also participated in the retaliatory Siamese attack on Tavoy in 1787. In recognition of that support he was promoted to the rank of chaophraya. Around 1815, during the second Chakri reign, Chaophraya Mahayotha (Cheng) was placed in charge of mobilizing and directing manpower for the construction of a fort at the site of the old Mon settlement of Prapadaeng near the mouth of the Chaophraya River. That fortified military outpost was named Nakhon Khoeankhan (Mighty Barrier City). It was garrisoned with Mon conscripts supplied by Cheng, and Cheng’s third son, Tho-ma, was installed as the first governor with the title of Phraya Nakhon Khoeankhan. The governorship of Nakhon Khoeankhan was retained by Cheng’s lineal descendants through eight consecutive appointees, until Siam’s provincial administrative system was revised in the sixth Chakri reign.

[5a] Chaophraya Mahayotha (Tho-ria)—The second son of Chaophraya Mahayotha (Cheng) [5], but considered the foremost in ability, Tho-ria was born in the Mon country and accompanied his father to Siam in 1775 at age 13. He entered the Royal Pages Corps (Mahadlek) at Thonburi and continued that apprenticeship into the first Chakri reign. In due course he was appointed to serve under his father as an officer in Siam’s Mon military. Upon his father’s death around 1820, he was promoted to Phraya Mahayotha, replacing him as Siam’s Mon military chief. At the start of the third Chakri reign (1824) his title was raised to Chaophraya Mahayotha. Like his father, Tho-ria played an important military role. In 1820 he commanded a Mon infantry regiment in a general Siamese mobilization against a threatened Burmese invasion that never materialized. During the course of the British invasion of lower Burma in 1824, he skirmished across the Tenasserim divide and swept up Mon villagers for forced resettlement in the Siamese In sharp contrast to the abundant evidence of frequent intermarriage among Siam’s prominent Mon noble lineages, there is no indication of any intermarriage between descendants of Phraya Ramanwong and those of Phraya Cheng. Evidently, the memory of former antipathies long persisted, despite efforts to erase them from the record. Even in the first decade of the 21st century, several descendants of Thonburi’s Old Mon nobility have voiced to the author a trace of lingering resentment against the ascendant New Mon lineages of the Bangkok era. 21

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

215

lowlands.22 And in 1826–1827 he participated in a massive Thai campaign against Vientiane to defeat the so-called “Chao Anu rebellion.” That is the last occasion on which Tho-ria is known to have served as a military leader. Tho-ria fathered 10 children, among them Phraya Mahayotha (Chui) [5b], Phraya Kiat (Wan), and Mom Chamot, wife of Prince Bua (son of Prince Surasinghanat, viceroy during the first Chakri reign). Though the date of his death is not recorded, he lived long enough to rejoice in the birth of his greatgrandson Prince Krisada Phinihan (later titled Naret Worarit) in1855, an event that cemented his family’s ties to the Chakri dynasty.

[5b] Phraya Mahayotha (Chui)—He was the fourth son of Chaophraya Mahayotha (Tho-ria) [5a] but attained seniority through the early deaths of his elder siblings. As Phraya Damrong Rachapholakhan, before being promoted to Phraya Mahayotha, he served as the second governor of Nakhon Khoeankhan. He is recorded as having sired as many as 35 children. The best-known among them were Sonklin and Nok-kaew, though a number of others are remembered as having married into other important noble lineages of the fourth and fifth Chakri reigns, particularly the Bunnag lineage. Sonklin was accepted as a consort of King Rama IV and in due course bore Prince Naret Worarit (Krisada Phinihan), founder of the Kridakan royal lineage. She was an exceptional woman, particularly in her fervent championship of Mon culture within courtly society, her patronage of many Mon villages and sponsorship of many Raman temples, and her efforts to exert a Mon influence on the upbringing of her son, Prince Naret, including her personal selection of his Mon senior wife and several Mon minor wives. Her younger brother, Nok-kaew, served as the third governor of Nakhon Khoeankhan with the title of Phraya Damrong Rachapholakhan. In 1883 he was co-opted by his nephew, Prince Naret, then serving as Siam’s ambassador at London, to serve as the embassy’s secretary. With his promotion to Phraya Mahayotha after his father’s death, he served as ambassador at Berlin from 1887 to 1891 and subsequently as ambassador to Great Britain, the Netherlands, Belgium, and the United States of America. He is said to have been one of the most popular and successful Siamese ministers at the Court of St. James. The Khochaseni lineage proceeded through his descendants. In connection with that British intervention into Burmese affairs, Captain Henry Burney was sent to Bangkok for treaty negotiations. The British contemplated the possibility of reconstituting the Mon kingdom as a means of containing the Burmese, so Burney proposed that Tho-ria—on the grounds of his purported Mon royal ancestry—be offered the rule of an independent Mon state. That proposal proved unworkable primarily because the Mon leadership was unwilling to contemplate the exchange their privileged position in Siam for an uncertain future in Burma and also, it appears, because King Rama III feared that a resurrection of Hongsawadi might result in a wholesale Mon exodus from Siam. 22

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

216

Edward Van Roy

Some Mon Contributions to Siamese Royal Lineages

Mon elements in King Taksin’s lineage

Though commonly considered to have been of Chinese race and ethnicity through his father, Tae Cheng-yung (or Tae Hai-hong), King Taksin can equally well be deemed to have been Mon through his mother, Nok-iang, a relative (possibly a niece) of Phraya Ram Chaturong (Chuan) [1] and Phraya Phetburi (Roeang) [3].23 At Thonburi Nok-iang was provided with royal quarters in the Inside (the women’s precinct) of the Grand Palace with the title of PrincessMother Thepamat, and there she took up the role of mae wang, female guardian of the palace, until her death in 1775. Taksin relied on his mother’s judgment in entrusting her kinswoman, Thaw Songkandan (Thong-mon) [1a], with senior responsibilities within the Grand Palace. She, like a number of other ladies of the former Ayutthaya court who had found their way to Thonburi following the devastation of Ayutthaya, played an important contributory role at Thonburi in the revival of Ayutthaya court administration, ritual, and etiquette. Mon pedigrees were transmitted by King Taksin and his progeny to the Chakri dynasty through two princes of the Thonburi period. First, Taksin accepted Tim, a daughter of Thaw Songkandan, as a consort. Her son, Prince Amphawan, in turn married a Mon noblewoman, Chaem. One of their daughters, Saeng, married Prince Phithak Thewet (Kunchon, a son of King Rama II), founder of the Kunchon royal lineage. Another daughter, Phoeng, married Prince Rachasiha Wikrom (Chumsai, a son of King Rama III), founder of the Chumsai royal lineage. The other Mon infusion was through the marriage of Taksin’s son, Prince Naren Rachakuman, to Thaw Si Satayanurak (Noi), a daughter of the Mon noble, Phraya Ratanachak (Hong-thong).24 Three of their granddaughters, Malai, Iam, and Phan, were accepted as consorts by Phra Pinklao (Chutamani), viceroy On ethnic (i.e., socio-cultural) rather than racial (i.e., biological) grounds, Taksin was evidently far more Chinese than Mon. His firmly Chinese upbringing is evident in apocryphal tales of his preference for wearing a queue rather than the short hairstyle of his Mon and Thai peers as a youth in the Front Palace Pages Corps (Mahadlek Wang Na) at Ayutthaya. His later promotion of Chinese immigration and support of the Chinese merchant community at Thonburi is well documented. But the favors he bestowed upon his Mon kin during the course of his reign, under the influence of his widowed mother, cannot be discounted. 24 It is recorded that Pom, a daughter of Phraya Ratanachak, became a consort of King Rama I and bore Princess Rerai. Em, another daughter of that same Mon nobleman, became a consort of King Rama II and bore Prince Worasak Phisan (Arunwong), founder of the Arunwong royal lineage. However, Prince Worasak and Princess Rerai were both born before Phraya Ratanachak (Hongthong) arrived in Siam. Their mothers must therefore have been the offspring of an earlier Phraya Ratanachak (personal name unknown), about whom no other information is available. 23

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

217

during the fourth Chakri reign. Malai bore Princesses Duang Prapa and Suda Sawan; Iam bore Prince Panumat, founder of the Panumat lineage; and Phan bore Princess Thanom.

Forebears of the Chakri dynasty

Among the Mon military officers accompanying Prince Naresuan to Ayutthaya from Hongsawadi in 1584 was Phraya Kiat (personal name unknown), the earliest-recorded ancestor of the Chakri dynasty. He is said to have married Princess Amphai (later popularly known as Chao Mae Wat Dusit), a daughter of Naresuan’s younger brother, Prince (later King) Ekathotsarot. One of the sons of Princess Amphai and Phraya Kiat was Chaophraya Kosa Thibodi (Pan). His male line of descendants, in sequence, is reported to have been Chaophraya Worawong Thirat (Thong, or Khun-thong), Chamoen Mahasanit (Thong-kham), and Phra Akson Sunthonsat (Thong-di), culminating in King Rama I (Thong-duang). Through that male line the Chakri dynasty claims firm ties to Ayutthaya’s Old Mon nobility. The Mon ethnic affiliation of the early Chakri kings was further strengthened through the female line. Queen-Mother Amarin (Nak), wife of King Rama I, was one of 10 children of a wealthy Mon family residing at Bang Chan, Amphawa District, located in the lowlands near the mouth of the Maeklong River. Her siblings were installed as adjunct members of the Chakri dynasty, and three of them produced lines of descent, collectively termed the Bang Chan branch of the Chakri dynasty: her elder brother Chuto founded the Chuto royal lineage (divided over time into the Chuto, Sawat Chuto, and Saeng Chuto lines); her younger sister Nuan married Nai Bunnak (raised to Chaophraya Akha Mahasena by King Rama I), founder of the Bunnag lineage; and her younger sister Kaew married Phraya Samut Songkhram (Son). Of Nak’s own nine children, her eldest son Chim became the second Chakri king (Rama II) and her second son Chui rose to viceroy in the second reign. All her children were reared with a strong exposure to Mon culture, spending part of their childhood in their Mon ancestral household at Amphawa. Over the course of her long life—she lived to 1826—Nak exerted a lasting influence on her grandchildren, including her eldest grandson, Prince Chesada Bodin, the future King Rama III, and Prince Mongkut, the future King Rama IV.

Further Mon infusions into the Chakri dynasty

The ancient Southeast Asian aphorism that women strive upward while men reach down describes succinctly the kinship relations between Siam’s Mon nobility and Thai royalty. Royal preferment was actively pursued by the Mon Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

218

Edward Van Roy

nobility through the presentation of their daughters at court, in hopeful anticipation of their selection as royal consorts and ultimately their conjugal fulfillment as royal mothers. There were two routes whereby women of the Mon nobility could contribute to the lineages of the Chakri dynasty—through their marriage to princes, and through marriage to kings or viceroys (including the special case of princes who went on to become kings or viceroys). The first route contributed children of mom chao rank, whereas the second route produced offspring of phra ong chao rank. Of those children, the daughters were prohibited from marrying anyone of lesser rank than their fathers and thus, in effect, were prevented from producing further generations of their lineages. Some 50 Mon women, or women of Mon descent, are reported to have become royal mothers in the Grand Palace over the course of the Bangkok era: seven in the first Chakri reign, seven in the second reign, four in the third reign, six in the fourth reign, and 26 in the fifth reign. An additional, unknown number of Mon women achieved motherhood as wives of Chakri dynasty princes. Of those who bore children, nearly half had only daughters, who for the reason given above remained childless. Furthermore, a number of their sons, due to illness, infertility, premature death, monastic vocation, or sexual preference, failed to sire any children. So the actual number of Chakri dynasty lineages produced by these Mon mothers was limited to the instances summarized in the following table.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

219

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

Some Mon contributions to the royal lineages of King Taksin and the Chakri dynasty

1. Royal lineages arising from the marriage of Mon women (or women of Mon

descent) to kings

a Mother (queen/consort)

Father (king)

Son (king/prince)

Royal lineage(s)

Thim [1a]

Taksin

Amphawan

various

Chim Yai

Taksin

Kasat Anuchit

various

Amarin (Nak) Rama I Rama II Rama II’s viceroy

all of Rama II’s sons’ lineages all of Rama II’s viceroy’s sons’ lineages

Si Sulalai (Riam)

Rama II

all of Rama III’s sons’ lineages

Em

Rama II Worasak Phisan

Arunwong

Sap [1a]

Rama III

Mataya Phithak

Siriwong

Em Yai [3a]

Rama III

Rachasiha Wikrom

Chumsai

Rama V Chakrapadiphong Phanuphan

all of Rama V’s sons’ lineages Chakraphan Phanuphan

Rama III

Thepsirin Rama IV (Rampoei) [1a] Iam

Rama IV’s viceroy Panumat

Panumat

Sonklin [5b]

Rama V

Naret Worarit

Kridakan

Morakot [1b]

Rama V

Phichai

Phenphat

2. Royal lineages arising from the marriage of Mon women (or women of Mon

descent) to princes

a Mother (wife/consort)

Father (prince)

Royal grandfather

Royal lineage

Klin [1c]

Kraison Wichit

Rama I

Suthat

Chamot [5a]

Bua

Rama I’s viceroy

Pathomsing

Saeng [1a]

Phithak Thewet

Rama II

Kunchon

Prang Yai Wongsa Thirat Sanit Rama II Nim [1b] Dechadison Phoeng [1a, 1c]

Sanitwong

Rama II Dechatiwong

Rachasiha Wikrom Rama III

Chumsai

*Note: a Numbers in bold brackets refer to Mon lineages listed in the text.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

220

Edward Van Roy

Acknowledgment

This Note has benefitted greatly from the expertise of Khun Varah Rochanavibhata, who has generously shared his linguistic skills and intimate knowledge of Mon lineages in Siam based on genealogical records that he compiled from more than half a century of oral testimony by Mon elders and a variety of Thai- and Mon-language documents, including privately printed cremation memorabilia. Additional sources are listed below. Responsibility for all attempts to fill lacunae and provide clarity to the raveled record rests, however, with the present author.

Sources Amphan na Phathalung et al., 1987. Prawatisat trakun sultan sulaiman [history of the Sultan Sulaiman lineage]. Bangkok: Amarin. Banchoet Inthuchanyong, 1996. Rachasakun phra borom rachawong chakri [royal lineages of the Chakri dynasty]. Bangkok: Onkan Kha Kong Kurusapa. Chaiyanan Phiphathaphong, Phraya, 1997. Bantoek ton trakun lae wong yat [record of the founder of the (Chaiyanan) lineage and extended family]. Printed for the royally sponsored cremation of Thiam Chaiyanan. Bangkok. Damrong Rachanuphap, Prince, 1939. Lamdap sakun khochaseni lae borankhadi mon [the generations of the Khochaseni family and its Mon antiquity]. Printed for the cremation of Phraya Phiphit Montri. Bangkok. Ong Banchun, 2007. Ying mon: amnat lae rachasamnak [Mon women: power and the royal court]. Bangkok: Matichon Publishing Co. Parate Attavipach, 2008. Botbat khong chonchat mon to prawatisat lae sangkhom khong thai [role of the Mon in Thai history and society], Silpa Wathanatham, Vol. 29, No. 6, 91–104. Prayut Sithiphan, 1962. Ton trakun khunnang thai [founders of Thai noble lineages]. Bangkok: Niyom-withaya. Snit Smuckarn, 1976. Mi ngoen nap wa nong mi thong nap wa phi [younger siblings are like silver, elder siblings are like gold—EVR]. Bangkok: Banakit. Sujaritlak Deepadung, Vichit Ketvisit, Attajinda Deepadung and Su-ed Gajaseni, 1983. Botbat nai dan sangkhom wathanatham lae kanmoeang khong khon klum noi nai krung ratanakosin: khwampenma lae khwamplianplaeng nai Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Note: Prominent Mon Lineages

221

rop 200 pi: mon [social, cultural, and political roles of a minority group in Bangkok: origins and changes over 200 years: the Mon]. Bangkok: Chulalongkorn University. Suporn Ocharoen, 1998. Mon nai moeang thai [the Mon in Thailand]. Bangkok: Thammasat University Press. Suthisak Rabop Sukhsuwanon, 2009. Tamroi soep ha banphaburut tan rachawong chakri [searching for the ancestors of the Chakri dynasty], Silpa Wathanatham, Vol. 30, No. 8, 79–93. Thepchu Thabthong, 2005. Ton trakun thai, rachasakun, lae nam sakun phrarachathan [founders of Thai lineages, royal lineages, and royally granted surnames]. Bangkok: Suwiriya Sariyasat.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

222

from the archives Bruguière’s Journey Overland from Penang to Ligor, Thence to Bangkok, 1827 Letter from Mr Bruguière, Missionary in Siam, to Mr Langlois, Superior at the Seminary of the Foreign Missions in Paris1



Kennon Breazeale, editor Michael Smithies, translator Bangkok2 20 June 1827 [242]3

Dear Sir and dear Colleague I have at last arrived at my post. My first intention was to travel by sea, going round the [Malay] peninsula, but our missionaries in Pinang4 made so many remarks [243] about the bad faith of the Chinese, the only people who have commercial relations with Siam, that I changed my mind. The captain of a French vessel very politely offered me a passage on his ship, bringing me to Mergui5 and travelling from there to Siam;6 but on the very eve of our departure the ship owner changed his destination, and sent him to Aceh7 on the island of Sumatra. I then decided to follow the route taken by the late Mr Pécot;8 I had in any case a great desire to see Readers are directed to JSS 96 (2008) for an introduction to the life of Bishop Bruguière and his extensive letter of 1829 describing Siam. The present letter, of more limited scope, describes his journey from Penang to Bangkok in 1827. Most of the footnotes appearing in this letter of 1827 were written by Kennon Breazeale; Michael Smithies is chiefly responsible for the translation from French. The references are to be found in JSS 96 (2008). 2 The text here has ‘Bang-koc’; elsewhere ‘Bang-kok’ is also found. 3 The page numbers refer to the pages in the Annales de la Propagation de la Foi, 1829, in which the letter first appeared in French. 4 The East India Company settlement of Penang/Pinang was founded by Francis Light in 1786. 5 Merguy in the text. 6 This was the route taken by French missionaries and others in the seventeenth century, when Mergui was Siamese, in order to reach the Siamese capital, then Ayutthaya. 7 Achem in the text, on the northernmost tip of Sumatra. 8 Another missionary, of whom mention is often made below. Pécot began work at the Penang College of the Siam Mission in November 1821. He travelled overland to Bangkok in 1822, along a route similar to Bruguière’s, and returned to Penang shortly before his death in July 1823. 1

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

223

the king of Ligor,9 that I would have taken this route right at the beginning, if I had thought it practicable. A Siamese Christian, an ambassador10 of the king of Siam to the governor-general of Bengal,11 offered me, during his passage through Pinang, to overcome all the difficulties. I set off on the day after Easter,12 taking with me a Chinese brought up in the college in Pinang, to act as a catechist, and a fervent new convert, also Chinese, who wanted to follow me and give himself over to the work of the missions. We arrived the next day in Kedah,13 where I found the aforementioned Siamese ambassador, who came to greet me on shore, and took me to his hotel, that is, a miserable straw-covered hangar. I at once desired to pay a visit to the governor,14 a son of the king of Ligor, and requested the ambassador to accompany me to act as interpreter; but His Excellency refused, saying that such a step was beneath my dignity, and it was up to the governor to make the first moves. This governor did indeed send me one of his chief officials to present his compliments and request me to go to the fort, which is no more than a walled enclosure and which are placed a few cannons to defend the entrance to the port; its construction has neither symmetry [244] nor regularity. The governor’s residence is built in one of the corners. I was introduced into a kind of corridor, which I think served as an audience hall, and where I only saw, by way of furnishing, a few rush mats spread on the floor: two placed separately were cleaner than the others. There I found only ugly and almost naked brutes, wearing a small piece of cloth round their waists; this is the usual attire of both sexes in Siam. On my entering, they all prostrated themselves, and I was shown the mat reserved for me on which I lay stretched out. Soon after the governor appears, a very good-looking young man, very lively, with a proud and steady

The quasi-hereditary governor of Ligor, the old name for Nakhòn Sithammarat, was not a king, but by many Westerners in the early nineteenth century was considered such. Nòi na Nakhòn, Chao Phraya Nakhòn Sithammarat, was viceregal governor of Nakhòn Sithammarat from 1811 to his death in 1839. 10 The Siamese Christian who was the ‘ambassador’ to the governor of Bengal was probably Pasqual Martin, a Luso-Thai who accompanied Henry Burney on the Guardian to Bengal in 1826, after the signing of the June 1826 Anglo-Siamese treaty. His mission seems to have been primarily commercial, because the political issues had already been settled in Bangkok. He returned on the Guardian, which reached Penang on 16 April 1827. 11 William Pitt Amherst, 1st Earl Amherst, was Governor-General of Fort William in Bengal from 1823 to 1828, based in Calcutta; the title changed in 1833 to Governor-General of India. The Siamese had every reason to maintain good relations with Calcutta after the defeat of their traditional enemy, Burma, in 1826 by the British and the signing of the Treaty of Yandabo. 12 Monday 16 April 1827. 13 Quéda in the text throughout. 14 The governor of Kedah and son of the ‘king’ of Ligor was Phya Aphai Thibet (Saeng na Nakhòn), who was given the title of Phraya Saiburi (meaning governor of Kedah) after the 1821 Siamese intervention and flight of the sultan. Aphai Thibet remained at Kedah until 1828, when he was forced to withdraw to Hat Yai by partisans of the sultan. He was later governor of Pang-nga. 9

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

224

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

gaze, giving orders with a firm and loud voice, who came to sit down on the mat a short distance from mine. When he approached me, I got up to greet him: this was impolite, and civility requires that I remained seated or prostrate. This incongruity was noticed by the ambassador who immediately came to warn me. Then two small dishes filled with betel and areca nut were brought, one for the prince and one for me. The ambassador was my interpreter. He sat at my feet, but not on my mat. Our discussions were without interest. ‘How old are you?’ ‘When did you become a priest?’ ‘What country do you come from?’ ‘Are elephants, bears, monkeys found in France?’ etc., etc. These were the kinds of questions he asked me. He ended by asking something I hardly expected and which rather surprised me: ‘Do you have a lot of money?’ he enquired. ‘Very little, prince,’ I replied, and this was indeed true. He asked me this last question in order to judge from my reply how the escort he intended to give me should be composed. ‘I do not have at [245] present enough elephants for you both; the ambassador is in a hurry to reach Ligor; you, Father, could you not delay your departure five or six days?’ ‘I very much desire to leave with the ambassador,’ I replied, ‘but if that is not possible, I shall wait.’ ‘You have nothing to fear,’ he said; ‘I shall provide you with a faithful escort which will take you to Ligor in complete safety.’ The next day the Siamese ambassador wrapped up his parcels, gave me a speech exhorting patience, and outlined the rules of conduct so that I would know how to comport myself with decency and dignity. According to his instructions, I should eat alone, before all the others; my catechist after me, and so on. I was strictly enjoined not to leave my hut, to speak to no one, and to look at no one whomsoever. I was forbidden to go out for a short walk and some fresh air; this would have compromised my dignity. However strict these rules, my catechist found them incomplete, and wanted to add to their severity additional observations. I was not allowed to sit; I should not lie down; this was indecent. I should not use my mat, as this had been used by a servant and was consequently soiled. ‘The attitude you should best maintain,’ he said with a very serious and solemn look, ‘is to remain standing all day, the eyes lowered and immobile.’ All these childish rules will give you an idea of the customs and practices of these people. Everywhere I went I found myself surrounded by a crowd of Malays and Siamese who observed with surprise all my actions and all my movements. Everything about me aroused their curiosity. But nothing exceeded their surprise than [246] seeing me walk or read when walking. They often questioned my Chinese about this: ‘What is the European doing’ they asked him, ‘going up and down in the same place? What kind of a game was this? Has he lost something?’ Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

225

Three days after my arrival in Kedah, the governor came to pay me a visit, and announced that the elephants to be provided for me would not be long in coming. In these interviews, I was able to observe some of the practices of these people. An inferior speaking to a superior squats on his heels; if the person he is addressing is of a very high rank, he prostrates himself before him. If he is unable to do this, he does not reply to the most urgent questions before removing the obstacle and prostrating himself. They must always speak with their hands joined in front of their faces. When questioned by a superior, one should never reply in affirmatives to his questions. ‘Have you done what I ordered?’ ‘Did you go to such-and-such a place?’ ‘Is the work finished?’ etc., etc. They reply ‘Sir, sir, sir!’ When someone is somewhat important, he walks ahead, alone; his officials follow, one carrying a parasol, another his betel box, a third a wick with which to light his cigar. When the superior stops, he remains standing while his suite sits; if he calls someone to come to him, the person must approach on all fours and crawl sideways like a shrimp; if he raised his head to the same height as the superior he would be severely punished. Only the monks15 are freed from the obligation of paying these external marks of respect to superiors; and I, being a European priest, profited from the same privilege. [247] I noticed that the prince had added to his dress a pair of sandals, but his brother beside him went barefoot and it was easy to note that his feet had never worn shoes. During the whole time we were in Kedah, the governor supplied our needs; he even gave us guards and people to serve us. For my part, I tried to make myself useful by visiting the places nearby and beginning my mission. I went to the capital of the kingdom which is but a wretched village with about two hundred dwellings covered with thatch, like those to be seen in the Strait of Sunda,16 the Malacca peninsula,17 at Ligor and Siam. These houses are built in a few hours. The vertical stakes are raised on which bamboos are placed horizontally; the whole is covered with a kind of thatch from the mangroves; the enclosure is marked off by wattles made of bamboo and filled with straw, and the house can immediately be occupied. The furnishings correspond to the simplicity of the architecture; they often consist only of one or two rush mats which serve as a table, a chair and a bed. Kedah is a port but it can only receive small vessels; the French formerly traded with this place. The land is flat, humid and swampy; it produces hardly anything except rice which is the ordinary food of the inhabitants. Talapoin is the term in the letter for Buddhist monks; this term was commonly used, particularly by the French. 16 Between Java and Sumatra. 17 Malacca is in fact spelt with one ‘c’ in the original. The Catholic Church continued to use the term ‘the Malacca peninsula’ until recent times, vide the Papal Bull of 27 November 1957, Gravissimum supremi Pontificatus munus. 15

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

226

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

The first persons to whom I began to speak about religion were those who were usually with me or who came to visit me. I first of all asked them to let me know some of their religious tenets, which I refuted with some simple reasoning or by familiar comparisons [248] at the level of their limited intelligence;18 I spoke to them after that about the existence of a single supreme being, his chief perfections, about the creation, etc., etc. I stopped there, without going further according to the impression that these first truths appeared to have on them. In speaking with the Muhammadan Malays, they always returned to the dogma of the unity of God; I could not undeceive them of the opinion they held that the Christians worship several gods: all of them ended by saying that they observed their religion because it was that of their ancestors and that in which they had been raised, so that I could not claim much success in my early preaching. My Chinese catechist made a greater impression than me: he preached, argued, refuted his adversaries; he was listened to attentively. After listening to him, several persons asked him for religious books; others came to see him in the evening to be better instructed; he assured me that several appeared well disposed to embrace the faith if we had stayed longer in Kedah. He was full of zeal and had already converted several Chinese in Pinang. At some distance from Kedah is a colony of Chinese comprising simple people far removed from those who could corrupt them. My catechist greatly desired to go and preach the Gospel to them; but the way there was full of thieves and our imminent departure was also an obstacle. In this tiny kingdom we were able to discover two Christians to whom we taught the forms of baptism, so that they could administer it [249] to dying children. May the Lord cause to germinate the evangelical seed we cast in passing. Finally the day came for our departure; five elephants were brought to us for the journey. The height and volume of these animals astonished me. Those to be seen in Europe can scarcely be measured against those found in these lands. These are nine or ten feet high; their tusks are more than three feet long and some twelve inches in circumference. It is hard to understand how an animal so powerful, and so terrible in the middle of its forests, can be tamed to the point of being guided by a child of ten and to obey his voice; it follows the orders of its drover,19 brings him with its trunk the objects that are wanted; it lays down and gets up at his command; it lowers itself to receive on its back the person who wishes to mount it; there are few obstacles which can impede its advance; it breaks with its trunk the branches of trees which obstruct its progress; sometimes it lowers them and crushes them under its feet. When it has trouble in getting out of the mire, it squats on its broad belly and drags itself over the mud, in this way distributing the weight of its body over a broader base, and so sinks in less; if it encounters swamps or mud-pits it The condescension of the European is breathtaking. The correct term is given below.

18 19

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

227

sounds out the land with its trunk as it moves along to see if there is any danger. It goes into the deepest ravines and climbs, using its trunk as a lever, the steepest mountains. I have never seen one stumble even on the narrowest of paths. It can scarcely cover five quarter leagues20 in an hour. When it is tired it warns its mahout [the name given to its drover]21 by beating the earth with its trunk and producing a sound like [250] a horn. It eats at night; it sleeps about an hour, lying on its side or often upright. When it finds clean water, it fills its trunk several times and throws water all over its body to freshen up. When, on crossing a river, it can no longer touch bottom, it swims under water and breathes through the end of its trunk which it raises above the surface and is the only part of its body to be seen. It was on this animal that I travelled from Kedah to Ligor. Our caravan comprised five travellers, fourteen men to act as an escort, and five elephant drovers, in all twenty-four. Everyone except me was armed, but in a way hardly conducive to inspire fear. Two poor sabres, some billhooks and a few daggers were the arms with which they were to defend us against the two hundred or so brigands infesting the country, and who had recently slit the throats of nine travellers; we found one of these unfortunates hanging on our way. At the sight of this, my guards where so frightened that it was impossible for me to get them to advance until we received reinforcements. This was not the only mishap I experienced. We were hardly fifteen leagues from Kedah than my Chinese convert, as well as the young Siamese Christian the ambassador had left with me to act as interpreter and servant, were overcome with fatigue. I was obliged to share my elephant with them. We mounted and got down from it alternately until our voyage ended. Walking through these uninhabited lands, through which a path has to be hacked, is extremely tiring. We rose at [251] dawn, ate our rice, and set off without stopping anywhere, without drinking or eating, until seven in the evening. For some thirty leagues we passed through marshy plains and rivers. Then one enters an extremely large forest. Only to be seen at intervals are some miserable huts inhabited by half-wild people who live in the middle of this thick jungle and who live by theft and highway robbery. The plants and trees growing here are completely unknown in Europe. By the river banks and marshes is found a tree somewhat similar to our cypress; when the sun is down traces of light come from it rather like electric sparks; this, along with the fireflies in the air, is a charming sight. The vegetation in these forests is very prolific. Most of the fruits found are unhealthy or poisonous; I nearly had an unfortunate experience with them: exhausted by the march, I sat down under a tree whose leaves were like those of an apple tree, and the fruit like a green pomegranate; I wanted to taste it, and already had one of the fruits in my hand to put in my mouth, when I heard a cry in bad Portuguese ‘Padre! Naon comè! A league was approximately 4 km. In French the term is cornac.

20 21

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

228

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

Don’t eat it, Father, don’t eat it! It is a poisonous fruit and will kill you, or make you mad.’ From then on, I was more cautious and when I found fruit, before daring to touch it, I consulted my guides, who nearly always said, ‘You cannot eat that.’ One also has to be careful about what one drinks. Nearly all the water around is stagnant or muddy, [252] and very unhealthy. When better cannot be obtained, one partially counteracts its deleterious effects by boiling it with some tea. We slept in the middle of the forest on rush mats spread on the ground. The nights are mild and splendid, especially by moonlight. The silence that reigns in these dense forests that are as old as the world is only interrupted by the lugubrious cry of night birds, or that of wild beasts found in large numbers in the jungle, like elephant, wild buffaloes, rhinoceros, and unicorns.22 The unicorn is different from the rhinoceros in that its horn is placed in the middle of its forehead, in an almost horizontal position; it is a fearsome animal and extraordinarily strong; its cry is somewhat lingering and sonorous, a little resembling that of a big mastiff, but louder. We heard on several occasion the cries of one of these animals; and although it was not far from us, no one was prepared to go and look at it close to. Bears are often met with, but they are smaller than those in our climes. We saw several flocks of gazelles, and even caught two. The boa constrictor is commonly found, as well as many other snakes of all types. The bite of these reptiles is fatal. Panthers, leopards and the royal tiger are not lacking either; the leopard will openly attack men; it is the fiercest and most dangerous of all the quadrupeds; it devours everything it meets, less to satisfy its hunger than from ferocity. Kindnesses irritate it; the sight of the person who feeds it in its cage makes it furious;23 its eyes wild and partly closed, its movements convulsive and threatening, and surprising agility, set it aside from [253] all other wilds animals: its boldness exceeds its strength; it will attack an elephant and oppose the lion. But the sight of fire in the night halts it; it is said that that the sight of a boa constrictor always makes it flee. We never met with such a dangerous animal; but one night one came to prowl around us and howl. Our elephants immediately warned us by their cries that the enemy was close to; I think that the fires we had lit around our camp, as we usually did, stopped it from coming close to. My men, afraid, came to tell me not to leave my place; I certainly did not think of doing so. Families of monkeys of different kinds are found, perched on the trees, and amuse travellers with the gambolling and grimacing. Lizards of all colours and sizes are found; there are some three feet long. Crocodiles are not rare in the rivers and they travel up to fifty leagues from the rivers’ mouths; some are twenty feet long. My poor Chinese convert was almost eaten by one of these when crossing a river. We twice saw a lizard of medium size, with wings which it used like a sail to move more quickly. Yellowish scorpions are also found, eight inches Sic. Perhaps the author had not seen this mythical animal for himself. Much of this discussion has the ring of hearsay.

22 23

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

229

long and two thick; their bite is fatal. The marshy places are full of wild ducks of all colours. We found some snails as big as two fists; bees of different kinds, some no bigger than a tiny fly. Of all the insects pullulating in these lands, none is more commonly found nor so untoward than the ants. [254] There is an infinity of varieties, big and small, black, white, and red; some so small that they can hardly be seen and which, when they are crushed in one’s finger, spread a terrible infection. Others move in swarms, go everywhere, in houses, chests, on trees, in vases, on food too. Mosquitoes abound as well, and are not the least importunate. It would be impossible for a lone traveller not to get lost in these thick forests. One takes reliable guides who walk ahead to hack a path, who cry out from time to time, and give signals to warn those who come after. It is often necessary to use the axe or to start a fire to create a path. The great number of ponds, sloughs and small streams we met with often required those of us who walked to go barefoot, which was not without danger, because of the thorns and venomous insects thereabouts. Providence watched over us, and spared us from any accident although surrounded by so many perils. From ten in the morning to four in the afternoon, the heat was very intense. To shield themselves from the sun’s rays, all the natives making the journey cover their heads with a large piece of cloth like a veil. That does not stop the skin on one’s face from peeling and flaking off. When crossing sandy areas, the sun’s rays, reflected in the sand, are intolerable. The eyes are particularly affected. So many inconveniences made everyone [255] in my party sick, except me. I had to renew some in my escort, and it was the governor of Thalong24 who assisted me over this. Thalong is a miserable settlement governed by one of the sons of the king of Ligor. I did not want to stop there, but the chief mandarin of the fort requested that I go to see him, so I paid him a visit. After the usual courtesies, he brought me one if his children who was sick, and asked me to cure him. I apologized, saying I as not a doctor. My Chinese catechist was bolder than me. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘a good remedy for the sickness afflicting this child; he should be given,’ he added, ‘for his dinner two toads chopped up, and I can guarantee he will get better. Your European doctors,’ he said, turning to me, ‘only know how to purge and bleed the sick; we Chinese know more than them.’ Immediately two toads were sought, and the remedy prepared. As we left almost immediately, I do not know the result. I would have liked to have baptized the child, but my Chinese doctor assured me that he was not in danger and would overcome his illness. This visit brought for me a small present of fruit, and some rice, which was beginning to run low. This is not Thalang, the old centre of Phuket, but a contracted form of Patthalung, then subject to Ligor; the governor, another son of the ‘king’ of Ligor, was Phraya Uthai Tham (Yai na Nakhòn), governor from 1826/7 to 1839/40. 24

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

230

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

Back in our camp, we loaded up our elephants; but they took two away from us, and the three which remained were not enough for all of us. I went ahead of my men, and, accompanied by two guides, set out for the governor who was six leagues away, in the middle of the forest, busy with building a fort. I explained why I came. He received me very politely and instead of two elephants he gave me three. He had the [256] gentle look and kindness of his father, the king of Ligor. I informed him of my wish to meet and speak with the king. ‘My father,’ he said, ‘had already gone from Ligor; he will be here in three or four days. If you wish to wait for him, you can stay here with us. I shall put you up as best I can. I cannot offer you a guard of honour, though your rank requires it, but we are here in the middle of the forest and I do not even have one for myself.’ Embarrassed by this talk of guards of honour, I replied that I was not accustomed to have one and could well do without one; as for his very polite invitation to stay a few days with him in the forest, I told him that in normal circumstances I would have accepted his offer thankfully; but I was in a hurry, and hoped to meet the king on my way, and I requested that he permit me to continue. So I said goodbye to this prince, loaded with presents and polite words, and mounted my elephant. It was seven in the evening; my guide soon got lost and led me into a marsh where we floundered for more than two hours. Finally I arrived at the meeting place at two in the morning, overwhelmed with fatigue, and consumed with hunger. I found all my men asleep. I had much need to doing likewise, but the mosquitoes would not allow it. The next day we received an order to go again before the governor in order to meet the king of Ligor who was about to arrive. So we had to retrace our steps and travel non-stop. It was then that I realized what an elephant was capable of: mine travelled day and night, three times twenty-four hours, during which it only rested five hours. I was distressed to see [257] that this animal’s strength and docility were so abused, but I had no authority to protest about it. We finally met the king at four in the morning in the middle of the forest. Three hundred men, as poorly equipped as mine, formed his escort. In front of him at a fixed distance were placed seats on which the prince sat when had got down from his elephant. Some twenty or thirty links, serving as torches, lit his way; one of his officers, carrying a huge parasol, walked on his right. The ruler was mounted on a female elephant, and placed under a kind of dome some four feet high, covered on the outside with white silk, and inside lined with red silk studded with stars. The prince wore no other clothing than a cloth around the loins, but the drover of his elephant had a superb robe of sky-blue silk and had before him a betel box. The cortege was completed by a great number of elephants transporting his wives, numbering twenty-five, whose dress was the same and very mean. As soon as he saw me, he said ‘Here is the Franguis,’25 [a term used to designate Europeans]; he He is much more likely to have said ‘Farang’, the standard term.

25

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

231

immediately stopped and beckoned me to approach. At the same time everyone prostrated themselves, with their face to the ground. I alone remained standing, and after removing my hat, said to him ‘Your Majesty, I learnt in Europe of the very gracious welcome which Your Highness graciously accorded to the late Father Pécot, my predecessor. Designated to the same mission as him, and sent to replace him, I have preferred to travel to Siam overland rather than by sea, desiring to have the honour of personally offering to Your Highness the homage of my respect, and to seek the favour of your [258] powerful protection.’ He gave me to understand that he received me with pleasure; scarcely knowing more than a few words of Siamese, I did not understand what he added to that. ‘Your Majesty,’ I added, ‘I am the bearer of a letter addressed to Your Highness by the Siamese ambassador; would Your Highness wish to learn of its contents?’ ‘Certainly,’ he replied, and after reading it, he said, ‘That’s good; I have seen to everything. You will find a vessel in Ligor which will take you to Bangkok, along with the ambassador; and turning towards his officials, said to them, ‘Take the greatest care of the Father, and be sure he lacks nothing, either on the journey or in Ligor.’ Everything had gone well up to this point, but the important matter which brought me to these parts had not yet been broached. To speak of religion in the middle of the jungle, and only in passing did not seem likely to produce much effect. On the other hand, Providence gave the occasion which would perhaps never be repeated. I offered my heart to God, and addressed these words to the king: ‘Your Majesty, when Father Pécot passed through Ligor, Your Highness graciously invited him to remain there, and even went so far in goodness to offer to have constructed a church for him, but death did not allow him to profit from this. Here I am ready to obey Your Highness’s desires, if you are still so disposed.’ The king appeared embarrassed to reply to me, and after a few moments of silence he changed the conversation to other subjects. ‘The matter has failed,’ I said to myself, and soon after I sought leave to depart and resume my journey. However, the king’s procession did not move on. I saw, by the light of the links, that [259] negotiations were taking place, and some mandarins were called to the prince for him to consult them on the subject of my request. Then a messenger was sent to me on behalf of the monarch to present me with a sort of apology, and to tell me that His Highness hoped I was not displeased with him since he had hesitated to agree to my request; the difficulty lay in that there had never before been a church in Ligor or in the kingdom.26 I made different observations about this, which were conveyed to the king. Finally he caused me to be informed that, as he was a tributary vassal of the king of Siam, he could not grant my request without consulting that king on this matter, but he had to go to Bangkok shortly and would speak of the matter to The territory of Ligor that was under the ‘king’s’ governance.

26

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

232

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

his superior, and that, if he agreed, there would be no objection on his part. In this way the meeting concluded; he resumed his journey, and I mine. God’s ways are unfathomable. The monarch was well disposed, but restrained by fear. Let us pray that that the Being who holds in his hands the hearts of kings makes him favour this; I do not despair, and I have some reason to think that if we are going to have a church in Ligor, the faith will make progress there. When the monarch goes to Bangkok, I shall go and pay him a visit with the bishop.27 The king of Ligor is a ruler who only lacks adherence to the Faith to be perfect. He has a considerate appearance, looks bountiful and gentle. He is affable and popular; he receives foreigners favourably; he causes justice to prevail; he desires workmen to receive their equitable salary and that injustice and fraud be severely punished. He often visits his fiefdom, has forts built, [260] land cleared; his realm is quite large, but underpopulated. He is liked by his subjects, and esteemed by all the foreigners who visit his realm. At last I reached Ligor; the Siamese ambassador came to greet me at the landing point and led me with much ceremony to the palace prepared for our residence, that is to say, to a cabin covered in straw, where a small nook had been set aside for me which was hermetically enclosed on all sides. I might well have asked to be lodged in a place where I could breathe freely, but no notice would have been taken of my request. A person of distinction like me should not be exposed to observation by the profane. Fortunately I was able to remove a small part of the cloth which served as wall hanging and could finally breathe with the aid of this air-hole. The ambassador had not had a very good journey. His elephant had thrown him to the ground, and he had a black eye and a bad back as a result of his fall; this, together with almost continual rain for seventeen days, gave him an intermittent fever from which he had scarcely recovered. Throughout the journey, both on land and sea, we were defrayed at the king’s expense. Our meals were served at seven in the morning and two in the afternoon on dishes no bigger than the saucer of a coffee cup, placed in a large copper receptacle. Etiquette required that I ate first, alone, seated on the ground, and with nothing to help me but five fingers of one hand. In addition, the Siamese are not fastidious in the choice of their foodstuffs, and, except for substances capable of poisoning them, reject nothing; they eat all kinds of reptiles; if they find a frog, they toss it [261] alive into the cooking pot, without gutting or skinning it. Birds’ nests, incubated eggs before the chick has hatched, are for them delicious dishes; they eat silkworms in stews; they make fun of Europeans who deprive themselves of such delicacies. Ordinary people eat in the most disgusting manner, placing, not their fingers, but their very mouths into Mgr Florens, the ageing bishop of Sozopolis.

27

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

233

the communal dish, as dogs do.28 They pull apart the meat with their nails which are like the grip of a vulture; they paint them red, and it is a sign of beauty among them to have very long nails and very black teeth. For a cup they use half an open coconut, and for dishes the bark of the areca palm. We left Ligor on 20 May; the only thing remarkable about this town is its pagodas, its monks and nuns.29 There is a brick wall surrounding it, with a fairly deep moat. These are the remains of fortifications formerly built by the Dutch; the river, which constitutes the port, is about two fathoms deep, but there is a roadstead. The town is located in a delightful and well-wooded plain; the air is said to be pure and good for foreigners. Our journey by boat was extremely tiresome. A European boat could easily go from Ligor to Bangkok in three days. We took seventeen,30 even though the crew was twice as numerous as needed. We stopped everywhere; it was as if the vessel was destined to explore all the islands and bays en route. Everything ran counter to our pilots, the wind, the calms, the moon, the tide, the rain, and the currents. There was no hierarchy on board: everyone gave orders, and the result of this confusion was [262] that we always had to drop anchor. This disorder would have been tolerable if it had been possible to be accommodated with some comfort; but the Siamese think about that last. Seven of us were lodged in a kind of oven, where it was almost impossible to remain seated in the highest part; there was no other opening than a hatch through which one could only pass by crouching down on one’s stomach; and to add to this pleasurable spot, the kitchen was placed in one of its corners; the fire there throughout the day and part of the night, the smoke which filled the place and found no exit, the lizards and swarms of flies which wanted to undertake the journey as well, the vermin which devoured most of the passengers: all that was a scene from purgatory. Add to that the serious inconvenience of lack of air, the excessive grubbiness of those who claimed the right to enter this ghastly cell, among whom was a leper and three sick persons, and you will have only an imperfect idea of this painful passage: to have a complete idea, you need to have spent a few hours there. As the most important person, I was placed at the end of the hole, next to the kitchen. Alas, worldly honours are often a heavy burden. After some instants I understood all the horrors of my situation; I left fully resolved not to enter except when violently expelled from any other place. This move on my part seriously displeased the Siamese ambassador, who complained about it to my catechist, and entreated him to warn me immediately that by leaving the room in this fashion, and exposing myself to the gaze of everyone, I made myself contemptible, This seems an exaggeration. Talapoines in the text, by which is meant Buddhist nuns. 30 This may be a slight exaggeration. If they left Nakhòn Sithammarat on 20 May and reached Paknam on 3 June, that accounts for only 15 days of sailing. 28 29

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

234

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

[263] and it was shameful for a priest of our holy religion to dishonour himself in the eyes of idolaters. I replied through the same person that life was more precious to me than the vain honour founded on such a pitiful prejudice, and though he often returned to the subject during the journey, I let him hold forth, and stayed in the open air, finding it much less inconvenient to be grilled by the rays of the sun or to receive some drenching from the rain, than to be stifled in a drying cupboard. I only went into it very late at night, when the air was fresher, and even so had to leave two or three times every night in order not to be asphyxiated. My catechist, in order to conform to the instructions of the ambassador, caught a serious fever which he still has; as for me, I am among the few who stayed well. We arrived at the entrance to the port of Bangkok on Whitsunday.31 The next day some Christians came to take me, and I set foot on the land in front of the episcopal palace, that is, in front of the cabin which bears this name. The Bishop of Sozopolis32 seemed to be at the peak of happiness on seeing me; the sight of me recalled to him Mr Pécot whom he greatly regretted, and who had left everywhere he went such a great impression of his zeal and talents: in Macao, in Pinang, in Ligor, and particularly in Siam, where his memory is etched on all hearts. On seeing me the Bangkok neophytes had different sentiments; some could not restrain their tears on thinking of the loss they had suffered in the departure of Mr Pécot; others consoled themselves in the hope that the person who replaced him would have inherited his zeal and his virtues. May God grant that the desire of the latter will be as well founded as the regrets of the former. [264] As soon as I had arrived I witnessed a very painful spectacle from the point of view of simplicity, but most consoling in regards to faith. I found our poor bishop lodged in a miserable hut covered with straw, raised up in the air by means of four posts. A plank served as his bed, and some wooden seats constituted their entire furnishings of this palace. As for the bishop, he goes barefoot: an old violet cassock, and a kind of oilcloth headpiece which he calls a hat—this is his dress on Sundays and working days. The little assistance he receives from France or elsewhere is given over to his priests, his college, and the poor for whom he is both pastor and father. Siam is said to be a very fertile land; the bishop calls it the garden of the Indies. Everything is very cheap here. A bull is had for five francs. Instead of copper coins, small shells are used. Since Ayutthaya33 was sacked by the Burmese in 1767,34

Sunday 3 June 1827. Mgr Florens, in office 1811–1834. 33 Juthia in the text. 34 The original here has a footnote with the reference ‘Voyez Nouvelles Lettres édifiantes, tom.5, pag. .444 et suivantes.’ 31 32

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

235

Bangkok became the capital of the kingdom.35 The air is healthier at Ayutthaya and the land more fertile. Bangkok consists of two rows of houses placed by the banks of the river. All visits are made over water in boats that are more or less elegant. The land is low, marshy, and entirely flooded for part of the year. The Chinese build here, in Canton and elsewhere as well, floating houses. For that they place in the riverbed several bamboo rafts, which they attach at both ends to two vertically placed stakes, with [265] rope rings. These rings slide up and down the stakes, and the house which is built on the raft rises or falls depending on whether the river rises or falls, never running the risk of being submerged. The Siamese are generally well-turned; they are of middle height, some are copper-coloured, others lemon yellow. They are said to be gentle, and less inclined to theft than other Asians. They are accused, though, of concealing beneath an artless exterior much deceit and hypocrisy. They are, moreover, like children. Everything catches their attention; the least thing surprises them. The way ones sits, stands, walks, etc. evokes their surprise. They examine your clothes, their shape etc., your shoes, the buttons of your dress; and, the better to observe them, one will take your feet, another your arms; then indiscreet and importunate questions follow. Everything pleases them, everything excites their covetousness, even things the purpose of which they do not know. They sometimes say to me, seeing the cuffs of the sleeves of my shirt, ‘You appear to have two shirts; I have none; it seems to me correct that you give me one.’ They are very superstitious, and it is not easy to detach them from their superstitions. Parents have the right to sell their children for slaves. What shocks me most in the customs of these people is that they leave their children of both sexes run around entirely naked up to the age of seven or eight. One can find no excuse for this infamous custom. Experience demonstrates, as Mr Dubois36 has shown in his works that this is one of the chief sources of corruption. They are accused of being lazy and indolent. Childish games, war, [266] fishing and boating, these are their chief occupations. The women do the agricultural work.

More exactly, in 1782, after a period when Thonburi was the capital. Fr Jean-Antoine Dubois was working at the Pondichery mission from 1792 until his recall in 1819 to Paris, where he worked in the MEP seminary. He certainly must have known Bruguière at the seminary, and almost certainly taught him. The Dubois manuscript on Indian culture was translated into English and first published by Longman in London in 1817, with the title Description of the Character, Manners, and Customs of the People of India, and of Their Institutions Religious and Civil. It was published in Paris in French in 1825 and in Spanish in 1829. Dubois wrote: ‘In the case of such spoilt children, subjected as they are from their earliest youth to influences which prematurely develop the latent germs of passion and vice, the knowledge of evil always comes before the first dawnings of reason… In the instincts which are excited at an early age by the nudity in which they remain till they are seven or eight years old, the licentious conversation that they are always hearing around them, the lewd songs and obscene verses… these are the foundations on which the young children’s education is laid…’ 35 36

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

236

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

I think though that their idle nature less the effect of their temperament, than the impossibility for them of profiting by their industry. A common practice among them, the purpose of which I did not fathom, is to light fires around their houses at nightfall.37 Every time I was lodged somewhere, a few feet above the ground, I always had one of these fires lit immediately beneath me. They have the same predilection for water. A Siamese does not pass the day without washing once or several times. They do this by throwing water several times over their bodies; they claim this practice preserves them from sickness. They use this remedy to cure intermittent fevers. The Siamese have little facial hair, and what they have they remove with tweezers. The Siamese year is lunar. It is not divided into seasons. The first day of the week, Sunday, is called the day of the sun, etc. They divide the day and night into four equal parts of three hours each. The names of the daytime hours are different from those of the night. They have days of good and bad fortune. They acknowledge a great number of gods. Some of their idols are of colossal size, and gilded. Their temples are built of bricks; in the middle is found a kind of pyramid.38 These are the only buildings in the country with some splendour. Metempsychosis is a fundamental dogma in their belief. The king recognizes as his chief ancestor the white elephant; so an elephant of this colour, said [267] to descend from the first, is splendidly maintained in the court of the monarch and is on equal footing with him.39 He has for his court and to serve him a great number of officials of all ranks. He is fed very delicately, and served on gold plate. People come to him to obtain benefits and favours. The crow also enjoys great respect; something supernatural is seen in it. As a consequence of their belief in metempsychosis the Siamese can kill no animal; they do not even break eggs; if they kill even an insect, even by accident, they will lose all the merit accrued in their life. They can though eat meat when the animal has been killed by someone else. The Chinese living among them perform this service. The punishment set aside in the next life for those who have killed an animal is to be born again in the form of the animal whose life they have ended. They admit to the existence in the afterlife of a paradise or blissful place, and a hell or place of torments. They also believe in the existence of some angels or genii, but their learned men disagree over several points of doctrine. They have much veneration for their monks, the priests of Siam; they live normally in a community, in the pagodas, like monks. They recognize among themselves a kind of hierarchy comprising ministers of different levels, as in the Catholic church with its bishops, priests, deacons, and other lower ministers. They carry in their dress certain

The purpose was probably to repel mosquitoes with the smoke from the fire. A stupa. 39 Footnote in the original text: ‘See the 10th number of the Annales, p.182’. 37 38

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

From the Archives: Bruguière’s Journey Overland

237

external signs by which one recognizes them. [268] Each of them carries out the functions assigned to him in the limits of his jurisdiction, and does not go beyond that. They bring up young people who could be termed their seminarians and who subsequently reach sacerdotal functions. They are supposed to live continently, but only while they wear the dress of the monk. They can, when they wish, abandon this profession and return to a secular status. The colour of their robe is a deep yellow; they recite public prayers twice a day, evening and mornings, on getting up and after sunset; their prayers and all their liturgy are written in the Pali40 language. This is an ancient dead language which is only understood today by a small number of the most learned among them. It does not appear that they offer sacrifices of victims to their idols; they allow the people to pray to them and to offer them sacrifices; they are all given the name of god, and, by reciprocal sacrilege, the pagans in the country designate Catholic priests by the name of Christian gods.41 They are not allowed to eat after midday until five the next morning; but they well know how to compensate for this abstinence during the seven hours they are allowed to eat. Then they overload their stomachs with food; it is not difficult to believe what is told of their voracity. They are served boiled rice by the bushel, and tea in numerous urns; meat, fruits and sweetmeats are added in proportion. A monk may devour everything, and return several times to make a fresh attempt during the morning. This intemperance is less the result of gluttony than the desire to pass for a god. The people judge the quality of the rights of the monks to this sublime [269] title by the quantity of food they devour. They go every day seeking alms and in the evening they have no other occupations than games or sleep. They consecrate holy water to which they attribute miraculous virtues; they sprinkle it over the faithful and spray it over the weapons of the soldiers when they go to war. They are consulted over important matters, and especially over sickness, which they treat with remedies, accompanied by many superstitious ceremonies. Formerly they could not wear silk robes; they could speak to no one outside their monasteries; they had to walk with their eyes lowered so they could not see more than an arm’s length in front of them; but the present king42 has dispensed with their following these difficult observances. When they disobey their rules, a layman is charged with beating them severely. However, under the mask of piety, these pretended gods conceal many vices; they are often punished for being guilty of the greatest crimes, such as adultery, theft, homicide, etc. They all disagree over points of doctrine and mutually accuse each other of lying and imposture, and their religious quarrels sometimes degenerate into battles.

In the text, ‘Pahly ou Bahly’. Bruguière seems to have misunderstood the full meaning of the word phra in Thai. 42 Phra Nangklao (later known as Rama III) reigned from 1824 to 1851. 40 41

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

238

Kennon Breazeale and Michael Smithies

There are also communities of women who participate in most of the privileges of the monks. They do not have the title of goddesses; their dress is white, and they shave their heads; they live under the general direction of the monks. This type of life is generally taken up by indigent women, but as they are not bound by any vow, they can renounce the profession of nun and return to secular life whenever they wish. [270] I can hardly talk to you about our native Christians; having only lived among them a few days, I have not been able to get to know their nature.43 If one were to judge from the external marks of respect they offer their priests, my judgment could only be favourable. We have four main churches.44 They have built here a rather pretty chapel, and at present another is being constructed which will be vast and convenient. Religious services are held publicly in this country, and our ceremonies are conducted with a decency and dignity which surprised me. The processions of Corpus Christi were conducted with brilliance and solemnity. The gentiles witnessed this with signs of respect and admiration. The bishop tells me he wrote to you not long ago; he requests you insistently to send us missionaries; we have the most pressing need of them; have pity on us then. I wish to visit all the Christian outposts in his vicariate, and then to turn my attentions to the infidels. It seems that there is much good that can be done in many places, especially in the direction of Laos. The Christians of Bangkok who have settled here have already baptised a great number of dying children among the pagans. When I do no more than this excellent task, the fruit of my mission will be inestimable. But how can I leave the bishop alone here? I feel that my support for him is necessary for the needs of the college and the Christians, so that I do not dare even to talk to him about my project, being persuaded he will not consent to its fulfilment. Though not yet very old, hard work and privations of all sorts have ruined his health, and he will before long not be fit to do anything. When I have distributed my boatload of objects of piety, I shall have none remaining; I implore you to send me a good provision of rosaries, medals and engravings of saints—but above all rosaries. I join you in your prayers and holy sacrifices, and all our dear confrères, etc., etc. Bruguière, apostolic missionary

This argument could also apply to his sweeping and erroneous judgments of Buddhist monks. The four churches in Bangkok in 1827 were Santa Cruz, the Church of the Conception, Nossa Senhora do Rosario (Church of Our Lady of the Rosary), and the Church of the Assumption. 43 44

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

239

REVIEWS Rachel V. Harrison and Peter A. Jackson, editors, The Ambiguous Allure of the West: Traces of the Colonial in Thailand. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press and Cornell University Southeast Asia Program, 2010, xxiii + 268 pages. Hardbound: isbn 978-962-209-121-4; paperbound: isbn 978-962-209-123-8 This ambitious book with its aptly alliterative title has at least a trio of agendas. First, to examine “the Thai encounter with the farang, and all that it constitutes,” especially over the last century and a half. Second, to bring Thailand into postcolonial theory which is enjoying great popularity in cultural studies syllabi in Western universities. And third, in order to enable the second objective, to dispose of the mantra of Siam/Thailand “never being colonized” as the basis of a larger claim that the country’s history and culture are unique. In a sense, the book is an answer to two questions posed by Benedict Anderson thirty-two years ago. The first was the mocking query, “What damn good is this country—you can’t compare it with anything.” The second was his impish thinking-aloud whether avoiding colonialism was such a good thing, given the result. That’s a long time to wait for answers. It’s also a lot of agendas for a modestly sized book. But the task of such a volume is to provoke, not to prove. The project involved several more writers than are captured in this volume. Some

of the overflow has already appeared in a special issue of South East Asia Research in 2009. Much of the weight of the first task, tracing the encounter with the farang, falls on Pattana Kitiarsa. He takes Edward Said’s famous proposition that the West constructed the Oriental to suit Western purposes, and flips it over as Occidentalism, the Thai construction of “the West” to suit Thai purposes. In mid Ayutthaya, the Siamese elite found farang useful as craftsmen and engineers, but boorish as missionaries. In late Ayutthaya, the farang disappeared and were not missed. But from the second quarter of the nineteenth century, they could not be avoided. The elite then selectively adopted things and techniques from the farang, both in order to fend them off, and in order to present themselves as more modern and thus more special than the rest of the population. However, this succeeded only in the short term. Soon fascination with the West spread beyond the elite to new people who found that adventures in the West or just in Western thinking helped to release them from the strictures of their own society. In the last generation, the situation has been transformed again with many more resident farang, easy access to global media, and proliferation of mixed-race luk-khreung offspring. Now everyone wears a (fake) Armani T-shirt and supports Manchester United, and the easy familiarity with the outside world has become part of a leveling trend in the culture which the old elite finds so hard to accept.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

240

Reviews

Thongchai Winichakul adds that one of the enduring ways to deal with the West has been to concede Western superiority in material culture, but to assert Thai or Asian superiority in matters spiritual. This strategy can be traced from Chaophraya Thiphakorawong’s writings in the mid-nineteenth century through to the latest soap operas. Other contributors note a similar strategy to welcome Western values and institutions in the public sphere, but deny their relevance to the private and intimate worlds of family and community. The other articles on this theme are more like vignettes, chosen not because they are typical, but because they illustrate the frontiers of the relationship. Thanes Wongyannava wonders why Foucault, and especially his concept of discourse, should have enjoyed such éclat in the Thai academy. After all, things French and things philosophical are usually given a wide berth. Thanes first slyly proposes that this popularity came about because Thai academics love anything American, and Foucault was popular in America. He then points out that Foucault is the most historical of the postmodern theorists and the Thai academy has cherry-picked his middle and most historical period, conforming with a taste for history rather than abstract theory. Moreover, Thanes shows that very little of Foucault’s work has been translated into Thai, and most Thai scholars have relied on Thai commentators, particularly Thanes himself, who have filtered Foucault’s work through a Thai consciousness.

Some of these commentators are reluctant to attribute their ideas to Foucault because they are not sure they understand the original. The Thai translation of discourse as wathakam, a word that bears little lexical resemblance to the original, broke free and became widely popular among journalists and others who have only an inkling of its origin and original meaning. The vignette illustrates Thongchai’s proposition, “In Thailand ‘The West’ is in fact always the Thai-ized West.” May Adadol Ingawanij and Richard Lowell MacDonald review the celebration of Apichatpong Weerasethakul on the international film-festival circuit. They suggest he was lionized by avant garde American cineastes, who were bitterly opposed to Hollywood’s domination, precisely because his work is so quirky and so non-commercial. As a result of this lionization outside Thailand, he became “a national figure whose creative efforts are nonetheless considered irrelevant to Thai public life.” They raise the fear that he will be converted into a symbol of national pride, totally smothering the transgressive and provocative content of his films. Since the article was written, Apichatpong’s story has moved onwards and upwards, and the result has rather belied the authors’ fears. Increased fame with the Palme d’Or has made him more disturbing and less manageable for the cultural police. His story fits another theme running through the book—of the outside world as a resource for evading authoritarianism in various guises.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

Rachel Harrison reviews the role of the outside world in Thai films, especially in the aftermath of the financial crisis of 1997. Film directors expressed fear of globalization in many ways—from the bombastic nationalism of historical epics through to the quirky intimacies of Monrak Transistor. Harrison concentrates especially on two films. In February, the director portrays globalization as a threat to Thai identity by having the principal characters lose memory, passport, and eventually lives in New York. Subtle stuff. In Siamese Renaissance the characters time-travel between the present and the era of high colonialism, and are able to save Thailand from utter colonial domination. Harrison points out that the director has chosen a distinctly farang-looking luk khreung for the female lead, and concludes “the need to repel the Other is intricately interwoven with the desire for the Other, with its allure and with the wish to incorporate it into the Thai self.” Of course this batch of essays leaves whole continents of the encounter with the West uncovered. Readers eager for more on this theme can go to South East Asia Research 2009 for Thanes on Thais eating spaghetti, Thak Chaloemtiarana on adaptations of the late Victorian novel, Sud Chonchirdsin on selective borrowing in the Fifth Reign, Thanapol Limapichart on the early development of a public sphere, and Thanet Aphornsuvan on Thai reactions to missionaries. But in truth, the editors seem much less interested in the allure of the farang than in the allure of postcolonial studies.

241

The various contributors argue that the mantra of Siam “avoiding colonialism” is misleading in two ways. First, Siam was very well integrated into colonial trade, and unavoidably part of a colonially dominated world. Second, Siam’s own court elite enthusiastically played the role of colonial rulers, importing institutions from neighboring colonized states to strengthen their own dominance. While this argument is now quite mainstream, Tamara Loos pushes it a bit further by showing how the Siamese went toe-to-toe with the British in the contest to control the mid peninsula. Five of the chapters address this theme, but fail to agree on the crucial point of how to characterize the process in words. Peter Jackson and Rachel Harrison prefer “semi-colonialism” because of continuities with earlier usage of this term. Loos thinks the semi- prefix weakens the term and undersells how truly colonial the Thai elite was. Michael Herzfeld pushes for “crypto-colonialism” but wins few votes. “Internal colonialism” and “quasi-colonialism” are mentioned in passing. The purpose of putting colonialism into Thailand and Thailand into colonialism—apart from alignment with academic fashions—is squarely political. The boast of avoiding colonialism and the claims to national uniqueness are pillars of conservative nationalism. It’s no coincidence that Anderson asked his two provocative questions during the intense conservative reaction of the late 1970s, and that this book

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

242

Reviews

of answers comes against a similar backdrop. Only Loos, Herzfeld, and Thongchai explicitly address this political dimension. Thongchai suggests how a specter of “domination by the West,” especially within the realm of knowledge, is an increasingly prominent and insidious part of conservative nationalism. Herzfeld points to colonial legacies which almost invisibly underlie structures and practices of authoritarianism. Loos points out how colonial practices and mentalities have continued to underlie Bangkok’s handling of the Muslim south for more than a century. The editors wisely refrain from drawing any broad conclusions from the collected articles. The book is a landmark in Thai studies. Its various articles will serve as idea-starters for projects of many kinds. Chris Baker

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

J o h a n F i s c h e r, P ro p e r I s l a m i c Consumption: Shopping among the Malays in Modern Malaysia. NIAS Monographs 113, Nordic Institute of Asian Studies. Copenhagen: NIAS Press, 2008. xix+258 pp. Hardbound: isbn 978-87-7694-059-1; paperbound: isbn 978-87-7694-060-7 Of the thousands of scholarly articles and books and academic seminars that have been devoted to the study of Islam in Southeast Asia in recent years, attention has focused mostly on issues concerning religious revivalism, politics, education, history, law, gender, morality, finance and economics, and of course, extremism and terrorism. It is surprising, therefore, that much less attention has been given to the activity that most Southeast Asian Muslims, like their counterparts in other religions, spend an ever-increasing amount of their time doing today: shopping and consuming. This activity is the subject of Johan Fischer’s original study of Islam and consumerism in Malaysia. Fischer began conducting his fieldwork in 2001 shortly after the September 11 attacks in the US. The event, he acknowledges, changed the political, religious, economic, and even consumption context in which his fieldwork was carried out, as Muslim groups called for a boycott of American products. A large part of his fieldwork data is drawn from interviews with Malay informants, of varying incomes and degrees of religious piety, in which Fischer probes their consumption practices.

243

The focus of Fischer’s study is a number of Malay middle-class families living in the suburbs of Malaysia’s capital, Kuala Lumpur. The anthropology of suburbia in Southeast Asia lags far behind the anthropology of village society, so Fischer’s attention to suburban life in Malaysia is another novel and welcome feature of the book. The suburban middle-class family is the focus of anxieties about the effects of consumption and official measures designed to overcome these anxieties. For Fischer, the suburbs are designed so that “families can turn in on themselves as the primary model of social and moral identification”. Moreover it is in the suburbs where space is ordered into “manageable and exploitable form”, and where government planners have the greatest opportunity to create what Fischer calls the “new national Malaysian family” (p. 11). Underlying the book’s central argument is the tension between consumption and religious piety. The much-discussed Islamic revival that has taken place in Malaysia since the 1970s is contemporaneous with the country’s rapid economic growth as one of Southeast Asia’s “tiger economies” and the development of a consumer society. In most developing countries (not just Muslim ones) the materialism that is the unavoidable product of capitalist economic development tends to be regarded as an obstacle to spiritual fulfillment. Moreover, a significant proportion of the products and services that become available for consumption, thanks to the opening up of the economy,

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

244

Reviews

are “foreign”, raising issues not only of economic nationalism, but also, at a deeper level, of purity and pollution. Consumption thus becomes an activity that various parties seek to regulate, among them political and religious authorities. The central question that Fischer seeks to address in the book is, “why and how has the question of Malays’ proper Islamic consumption become a key concern for state nationalism in Malaysia over the last three decades?” (p. 32). Consumption tends to be regarded as a sphere outside of state control. It is often conceived, particularly in Western economies, as the sphere where individuals may seek and find self-realization. Yet Fischer clearly shows that in the case of Malaysia the state has a ubiquitous presence in its citizens’ consumption practices, and indeed, these practices constitute a form of submission to a state agenda. Fischer argues that the principal means by which the state regulates consumption among the Malays is through the mobilization of the Islamic concept of halal—that which is permitted in Islam. The central argument of Fischer’s book is that, as a result of the “nationalization of Islam” in Malaysia under the auspices of the state, the notion of halal has been transformed into something much greater, encompassing not just food but a wide array of commodities and lifestyles including dress, housing and interior decoration, even the type of car one drives. “State national Islam” provides the government with a powerful discursive tool to regulate the way

Malaysians consume. The result is the “halalization” of consumption, where the new and the foreign are domesticated and approved for consumption by Malay consumers in such a way that they can be assured (by the state) that they are conforming to “proper Islamic practice”. While halal food requires certification by state institutions like JAKIM (the Islamic Development Department of Malaysia), halalization in the broader context is promoted by a host of state and private enterprises. Indeed, commodities almost become “non-commodities” (p. 75) via this process of halalization, since they are thereby rendered part of the religious realm, rather than the secular, material world of Western capitalism which is at least potentially haram (“forbidden” to Muslims). Fischer argues that the “invisible hand” of “millennial capitalism” in Malaysia is, in effect, provided by the state and Islam. The process of halalization allows Malays to safely engage in “patriotic shopping for the state” (p. 39). The effects of halalization are not confined “merely” to Malays’ consumption of commodities but also help constitute their very ethnic identity as Malays. If “you are what you eat” (or more broadly, “you are what you consume”), then the regulation of consumption represents a powerful means of controlling identity. Fischer argues that the new practices of consumption have “largely displaced more traditional forms of reverence tied to Islam and Malay rulers” (p. 39) that formerly provided much of the substance of Malay identity. Halalization

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

is a way in which the state can police the boundaries of Malay ethnicity by using religious sanction to prevent Malays from consuming what is deemed “unMalay” or “un-Islamic” according to Malaysia’s “ethnicized” version of Islam. Malay ethnicity is thus performed through state-mediated patterns of consumption. Or as Fischer puts it, “The state aggressively engages in a reconceptualization of consumption that envisions the amalgamation of Malay ethnicity, consumption practices and Islam”. This book intends to make a theoretical contribution to the scholarly literature on consumption in Asia. Some readers will be distracted by the liberal use of theoretical jargon that derives from the outer reaches of cultural studies. A more readable book could indeed have been written, shorn of such theoretical excesses. Yet if the reader is willing to plough through occasional paragraphs of admittedly challenging jargon, it will be well worth the effort required to gain the many original and important insights that Fischer makes into consumption and religion in Malaysia. Patrick Jory

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

245

246

Reviews

Michael Hitchcock, Victor T. King, and Michael Parnwell, editors, Tourism in Southeast Asia: Challenges and New Directions. Copenhagen: NIAS Press, 2009; 368 pp. Hardbound: isbn 978-877694-033-1; paperbound: isbn 978-877694-034-8 For more than a century, tourism was a luxury confined to the affluent few. They cruised around the world’s major ports but seldom strayed into the countryside except to visit picturesque monuments. That all changed in the 1960s. Rising incomes and low-cost jetliners put foreign travel within the means of middle-income vacationers, making it possible for them to relax in foreign climes. Soon jaded by European attractions, they ventured into Asia, Africa, and South America. Ostensibly journeying to savor the delights of the exotic, instead they relaxed, dined, and shopped. The earliest mass tourists in Southeast Asia were American soldiers on five-day “R’n’R” (rest and recreation) escapes from the hell of the Indochina wars. Word of the region’s attractions and amenities soon spread and by the 1970s, couples and, later, families began jetting to regional cities and beaches. By the 1990s, they had penetrated the rural areas in search of new diversions. For Southeast Asian nations, the boom was a godsend. It seemed ideal, a business from which anyone could profit, from nations with beautiful monuments to those with little more than arresting countryside. Bungalows morphed into high-rise hotels as jet

planes disgorged growing numbers of, first, groups of tourists, and then individual tourists. By the 2000s, the hunger for the new resulted in tourism’s spreading its tentacles into the backof-beyond, through homestays, “ecotours”, and adventure tourism. It seemed that no place was safe from foreign intrusion. The business brought riches to burgeoning economies, especially those countries with few other earning opportunities; in many instances, it became their leading foreign revenue earner. The emphasis, however, was on increasing the visitor numbers and little thought was given to its sustainability or to its impact on traditional ways, social inequities, or the damage it wrought on the country’s social fabric. Moreover, it had a dark side. Southeast Asia witnessed the creation of sex tours (including pedophiles), the introduction of drugs and promiscuity, and the eroding of the very cultural values it was supposed to showcase and which visitors had come to see. In tandem with the increasing numbers of arrivals came a rising discontent, especially among the young who viewed the foreigners’ sexy, affluent lifestyles as more appealing than the pedestrian pursuits of farm labor and the dreariness of traditional culture and lifestyles. The boom also witnessed the growing intrusion of foreigners into formerly pristine areas, and the flow of profits, not to rural villagers but to city-based firms. Locals saw only a rising cost of living and the loss of agricultural land. At the same time, countries

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

which had pegged their prosperity to tourism learned to their dismay that it was subject to economic fluctuations, civil disturbances, natural disasters, pandemics, rising travel prices, and becoming a terrorist target. A string of discouraging incidents since the turn of the century has given pause for thought to the wisdom of placing all eggs in the tourism basket. The failure of the public to foresee the direction that tourism was going may suggest, simply, that no one was looking. Also, those within the industry seeking greater profits may not have been interested in deducing that, like rampant consumerism on a finite planet, the search for new and exotic locations would eventually exhaust itself. Perhaps little else can be expected from a business that calls itself an “industry” and reduces gorgeous scenery, peoples, and lifestyles to “products”. Tourism’s role in the increasing complexity and interconnectedness of the world is the issue that this book confronts. The book under review seeks to address some of the above concerns. A collection of 3 overviews and 13 essays, it updates a 1993 work of the same title and by the same editors. The new edition seeks to expand upon the subject and reflect the changing times and nature of the business. As such, it falls short of its goal. Tourism is such a vast and complex subject, and extends to such a wide range of nations with differing religions, social structures, development levels, and lifestyles, that reduction to concrete statements may be impossible.

247

The book’s primary value lies in its case studies that comprise the bulk of the text. They are vignettes of societies in transition, rather than a discussion of tourism as the title suggests, but they are perhaps the book’s most valuable contributions. These simple sociological treatises reveal elements of cultures and cultural collisions. Among the standouts are the following. Shinji Yamashita’s “Southeast Asian Tourism from a Japanese Perspective” looks at the Japanese view of the rest of Asia, focusing, in particular, on Bali which Japanese regard as an escape from the drudgery of “salaryman” life to the “paradise” of simpler times. More of the Japanese mindset is revealed than of Bali itself, but the insights are valuable. In “From Kebalian to Ajeg Bali: Tourism and Balinese Identity in the Aftermath of the Kuta Bombing”, Michel Picard also discusses Bali but in terms of its “Balineseness” and the history of its relations with its overlord, Indonesia. He takes a penetrating look at the Balinese desire to define itself and offers some original thoughts on the success and pitfalls of that endeavor. It makes for engaging reading. Heidi Dahles’s “Romance and Sex Tourism” expands on the usual sex tourism discussions to ask what each of the partners in these liaisons actually seeks from his/her encounters. As such, it explores new and valuable territory and presents a picture far more nuanced than the normal treatise. In a similar vein, Yuk Wah Chan’s “Cultural and Gender Politics in China–

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

248

Reviews

Vietnam Border Tourism” veers from a straightforward study of Chinese male sex-tourists and the Vietnamese women who service them to an examination of traditional female Vietnamese values and expectations. While it does not shed a great deal of light on the trade, other than providing numbers, it nicely contrasts the attitudes of the respective parties, placing the age-old antagonism between the two nations in a new light. Perhaps the most comprehensive study of tourism’s direction is that of Laos by David Harrison and Steven Shippani. From their chapter Laos emerges as one of Southeast Asia’s more successful nations in managing its tourism. Had the theme of the rest of the essays been founded on its excellent model, the book might better have lived up to its title. The three overviews by the editors are the most difficult to wade through. Their approach is academic and their writing is freighted with meaningless verbiage that contributes little to unraveling and addressing a problem, serving only to trephine the reader’s skull through repeated blows. For example (from p. 29): “Debates about the industry’s impact and sustainability, and actions that follow on from these debates, are constrained by a silo-like [sic] separation of strands and components, disciplines and discourses; the analytical fragmentation, particularization and reductionism of complex, dynamic, interdependent systems, and processes.”

At best, their opinions seem to have been formed from a great distance rather than to display the same level of intimacy with a culture that is evident in the case studies. Perhaps the difficulty lies in the attempt to corral widely divergent information into an ordered whole. Complicating the matter at times, the writing borders on turgid—the reader struggles not to pageturn in exasperation when encountering a particularly obvious observation; although, to be fair, many statements may be obvious only to those who live in the region. The following (from p. 51) is but one of dozens of examples: “Overall then there are different kinds of tourism and tourists with different priorities, and shifting perceptions of tourist sites; the character of destinations and host cultures also vary as do the power relationships between the different actors contesting a tourist space.” The tediousness is also compounded by a tendency to use 10 nouns or adjectives in place of 1. Another of many examples follows here (from p. 28): “Our literature survey has highlighted a number of recurring themes and perspectives that have tended to map out the field of tourism studies on Southeast Asia, as elsewhere, during this period. These include globalization, identity, image-making, representation, tradition, commodification, massification [sic], promotion and policy-making.” In short, the reader may want to treat the book as a collection of anthropological and sociological essays,

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

skipping past the first two and the final chapters to concentrate on the meat of the text, which is enlightening and presents in a capsule account some of the problems—without solutions—to the tourism conundrum as a whole. Steve Van Beek

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

249

250

Reviews

Maryvelma O’Neil, Bangkok: A Cultural and Literary History. Oxford: Signal Books, 2008. 248 pp. Paperbound: isbn 978-1-904955-39-9 Yet another book, some might say, on Bangkok, but this has certainly made an effort to be different, with copious extracts from examples of contemporary Thai literature, and therefore lives up to its subtitle. It starts off with a glowing foreword by Sumet Jumsai, who claims that some considered Molière’s “principal Oriental character in Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme was actually based on Kosa Pan”—too bad that the play was written and performed in 1670, sixteen years before anyone in Europe heard about or saw Kosa Pan. (One might also point out that the cargo of the 1680 mission to France did not include rhinoceros—none could be found when the mission was about to leave—but baby elephants.) He rightly stresses that “this is not an academic history book”, meaning, presumably, that facts can be approximate, and in practice the author does not have to give references. This reviewer found the lack of clearly indicated sources the most exasperating thing about the book: “A British traveller reaching Bangkok in 1865 thought he saw a mirage city…” Who? Source? We are not told. “An English writer confirmed…”; “in 1835 a steamer carrying an American writer…” Who? Where to? “‘We mould [cities] in our image’ Jonathan Rabin writes”; who is he, and if he is important enough to quote, where did he write this? Silence. Pages 19–20 have a fascinating account

of King Mongkut’s daily routine but again no source; such a pity. As for facts, well... Several times we are told that La Loubère was an Abbé, and in one instance the error is compounded by calling him the Jesuit Abbé de La Loubère—a terminological contradiction of the first water, since a Jesuit by definition is not an Abbé. (Mrs O’Neil, with her manifestly close Piedmontese connections, should know that.) La Loubère sported no title, and was just Monsieur de …, gentleman. One might well question why we have Part One, Chapter 1 devoted to Sukhothai and Ayutthaya; they are both irrelevant and inaccurate. The French embassy led by Chaumont did not present Louis XIV’s letter to Phra Narai in Lopburi but on 18 October 1685 in the palace in the capital Ayutthaya. There is no genuine “fragmentary account” by Kosa Pan describing his reception at Versailles, though there is one of his arrival in Brest. Taksin is said to be “the only member of his dynasty”; an example of sloppy English—by definition a dynasty is a line of hereditary rulers. On page 77 (not 79–80 as the index has it) we learn “An Englishman named Frederick A. Neale, who was a [freelance] British naval officer, first came upon Bangkok in 1852”. Not so. His book about his stay in Siam was published in London in 1852, but he first arrived in Bangkok in 1840, as he tells us in his book. By page 210 he has been transmogrified into “the American writer F. A. Neale… [who] entitled his memoirs Consul in Paradise (1852)”. O’Neil is muddling Neale’s work with

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

W. A. R. Wood’s memoirs, published in 1965, and has also succeeded in changing the nationality of both authors. Yet her bibliography, here given the less academic heading “Further Reading”, get both texts right. This confusion is careless to a degree. Throughout there is a tiresome journalistic need to put labels on people; so we have, among more recent souls, “writer William Warren” and “ art critic Michael Wright” . One general point correctly discussed early on is the fact that Bangkok was essentially a Chinese city. Almost every visitor or resident has commented on this. Sit (or more likely stand) in the Skytrain today and observe the faces; few are pure Thai. But one thing that has changed is the status of the Chinese; when this reviewer first came to Bangkok in 1960, most servants were Chinese; now the Sino-Thai, if rich enough, have Thai, or, if failing such means, Lao or Burmese servants. The Chinese indeed “are everything and everywhere”, or at least were. That said, there is an awful lot here about Chinatown and New Road, which are almost irrelevant ghettoes in the modern capital. Another striking feature about the capital is “the constant din”. This is not specific to the capital but worse in it. Go into any supermarket, in the capital or out of it, and you will have four, five or more different sources of competing electronic sound, nearly all with thumping bass, presumably with no one listening to any one of them. In other words, noise is a national trait, not

251

specific to the capital; even in remote villages one is woken at 5.30 AM by blaring canned music preceding the pu yai ban’s announcements and/or canned sermons from the village temple. There is no mention of the Bangkok electricity service in the good old days of the early 1960s, when brownouts were constant. This improved greatly during the decade. But even then the traffic was awful, and getting a telephone a major hurdle. O’Neil rightly stresses the explosive growth of the capital. Fifty years ago, the capital was estimated to have a population of 3 million. In 2010 it is expected to top 15 million—the “primate city” indeed, perhaps doing little more than reflecting the high degree of administrative centralisation. But with the capital sinking, as one Alistair Shearer (who, for once, is not labelled a writer, art critic or whatever) has it, in “the ancient swamp of Asia”, and sea levels rising, one wonders how long this primacy can endure and what plans, if any, have been made to counter those problems. Go to the Bang Na end of the Skytrain line at the end of a working day and see the struggling masses trying to reach their homes; Bangkok then appears a miracle of individual organisation. This review has rather emphasised the inadequacies of the book up to now. To be fair, one should point out that the description of the Thonburi temples is excellent and makes one want to return to visit them. But this reviewer would love to know the source of the statement that Wat Arun is built on a

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

252

Reviews

floating foundation. This seems a very advanced technique for its early date. It was certainly built on piles, but that hardly makes the foundation floating. Inevitably most of the textual sources are from farang. O’Neil tries to break the mould by quoting from Mishima. Surely Chinese visitors must have recorded their impressions, or were they all coolie class immigrants about to climb the socio-economic ladder? She also digs out a Russian diplomat, Kalymkow, at the end of the 19th century and his fears of having to work in the “theatrical scenery” around him; full marks for research here. But he does not make the “Further Reading” section, alas… To vary the diet, O’Neil includes several, sometimes extensive quotes from Thai sources. This represents a departure from prevailing volumes that attempt to describe the city, but again the lack of sources means that one cannot follow up those often wellchosen snippets. Presumably Ankham Kalayanapongs should be Angkarn. Three temples on the Bangkok side are selected for close description, and the “Erewan [sic] shrine” is thrown in to complement them. Wat Borworniwes is only mentioned for its farang seen in murals. Wat Benjamabophit is mentioned only in relation to Kukrit’s funeral. The pretty Wat Ratchbopitr does not make it. Sex in the city is dealt with sensibly, in a matter-of-fact way, neither ignored nor hyped. The joys of water travel are there; but it is not true that monks are in a special section of the express boat

“to protect them from being jostled by women”. This is another example of inaccurate language use. The women do all they can to avoid touching the monks; to say they “jostle” implies actively rough-handling. Silpa Bhirasri gets good coverage, but surprisingly the gallery in Soi Attakarn Prasit, which was the precursor of the new art centre at Mabunkhrong, is not mentioned at all, though his spirit was there. Of course, we get the Jim Thompson treatment. The Siam Society does not make it, apart from expecting to be at the receiving end of a bequest. Nor does Suan Pakkard Palace. Vimanmek gets a five-word aside. But the Oriental gets a full fourteen-page coverage, though half a century ago it was not the “in” place, which was the newly constructed and governmentowned Erawan, appreciated then more for the cream cakes in its tearoom than its shrine. But the carelessness over facts is worrying: if one thing is wrong, then perhaps the whole lot is wrong? Here is one further example requiring no specialist knowledge of Bangkok or anything in it: Rama VII, we are told, “was the last man on earth to exercise royal absolutism”. This is nonsense; what about until recently the rulers of Nepal and Bhutan, and even now Lesotho? The book comes with a map that claims to show greater Bangkok but in fact only has the city core. The photos are all very dark, as though Bangkok were in a permanent pre-monsoon

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

penumbra; they have no captions, but are placed near the object they are meant to illustrate. In short, this offering, excellent in intent, fails to make the grade for accuracy, or in its referencing. Readers of books like this are justified in expecting reference details, and there is nothing wrong with throwing in a few footnotes. (Here, though, the author may have been hamstrung by the requirements of the series in which the book appears.) There is, though, too much good material here to dismiss it out of hand; a second radically revised and corrected edition is needed. But when dealing with a city of such enormous variety and coping with its recent phenomenal growth, it is never going to be easy to satisfy all tastes or expectations. Michael Smithies

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

253

254

Reviews

Chang Noi, Jungle Book: Thailand’s Politics, Moral Panic, and Plunder, 1996–2008. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2009. 256 pp. Paperbound: isbn 978-974-9511-63-3 This book consists of a selection of more than five dozen columns published in The Nation from 1996, the beginning of the end of the economic boom, until mid-2008. A new constitution came into force in 1997 that created a strong, elected executive, a space that was soon occupied by Thaksin Shinawatra who led his Thai Rak Thai party to two successful national elections. Thaksin’s government became destabilized by street protests instigated by the People’s Alliance for Democracy (PAD) in 2005 and continued in 2006. In a move that took the country by surprise, the military launched a coup in September 2006, dissolved the parliament, and commenced writing yet another constitution that came into force in 2007. The fiery populist politics conducted by the PAD, the toppling of two governments, the occupation of Government House in late 2008, and the closure of Bangkok’s two airports in December of that year fall outside the book’s purview. This background is helpful, because the pseudonymous Chang Noi does not intend to explain these larger events that made Thailand headline news around the world. Instead, the columns delve into what was happening behind the news. While readers may recognise Kipling overtones in the book’s title, in fact as they turn the pages they will find

themselves facing frank comment about Thai public life, especially its seamier and more manipulative aspects. Late in the book, outraged at the extrajudicial killings of supposed drug dealers, Chang Noi opines that it is not the rule of law but the law of the jungle that has allowed the murderers to escape prosecution. Indeed, the cover of the book displays ‘Tiger in Tropical Storm (Surprise!)’, a painting by Henri Rousseau. The striped predator is shown creeping through the lush green foliage with its fangs bared and a paw on the back of Little Elephant (Chang Noi). Possibly Little Elephant is charmed and will escape the lawsuits pursuing it. We learn in the book that as the financial crisis unfolded in 1997 and Chavalit Yongchaiyudh’s political fortunes deteriorated, his wife was advised by a fortune teller to avert disaster by carrying a toy elephant. The columns are arranged by topic around the jungle theme. ‘Fauna’ offers thumbnails of the shift from the godfathers of old to the rich plutocrats who dominate politics today. ‘Monks and Gangsters in Thai Politics’ (1997) in this section is arguably the most concise and profound four pages ever written about Thai leadership. ‘Feeding Habits’, featuring Chang Noi’s corruption curve, is about scandals and money politics. ‘Water and Trees’ follows the campaigns against the construction of dams and laments the degradation to the environment resulting from the failure to assess the social and economic value of forests. ‘Culture and Custom’ is a mixed bag of smart analyses of nationalism provoked by

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

external controls in response to the 1997 financial crisis, censorship of the royal biography and the use of English in public discourse. ‘Birds, Bees, and Beasts’ exposes the hypocrisy and moral panic that has accompanied the rise of sexual explicitness in public culture. ‘Tooth and Claw’ relates some of the more spectacular political murders in Thailand’s modern history. ‘Lords of the Jungle’, the last section, registers Chang Noi’s despair at the depths to which Thai politics have fallen. Authoritarianism, suppression and exclusion are the distinctive features of politics in the 2000s. Some of the book’s most polemical discussions are to be found in the final pages. Chang Noi declares that rather than deal with the big topics directly, the columns will identify significant but scarcely noticed changes in Thai society and its view of itself. So-called sensitive topics are deftly handled by the techniques of a ventriloquist. Critical perspectives are put into the mouths of others such as the social critic Sulak Sivaraksa, the sometimes banned Fa Dieo Kan magazine, and characters in mock dialogues. But what is Chang Noi’s own view of Thai politics and society? For one thing, specific ministries, departments, and offices rather than an abstract ‘state’ or ‘bureaucracy’ are held accountable for mismanaged or failed policies. For another, there is surprisingly little about political parties, because they do not explain the dynamics of Thai politics. In contrast to many farang and Thai political scientists, it would seem that

255

Chang Noi does not have much faith that Thai parties express the popular will in any effective way. The Democrats had a chance to remake Thai politics when they came to power in 1997, but they failed to recognize that the boom in the 1980s and early 1990s had created new social groups that had irrevocably changed the Thai social order. The huge rural population had become more politically savvy, and the middle class began to clamour for more say in the political process. The unmet demand for a new politics laid the foundations for the rise of populism and the demagoguery of the PAD, which is not a party but a movement. The most successful party of recent times, Thai Rak Thai headed by Thaksin Shinawatra with his powerful media businesses, operated like a political cartel by brooking no opposition, pushing rivals to the sidelines, and redistributing resources and profits among its members. Not to be missed are ‘How to Buy a Country’ (2000) and ‘How to Sell a Country’ (2006). ‘Bulldog on a Leash, or Another Nail in Democracy’s Coffin’ (2008) highlights the PAD’s visceral nationalism, middleclass membership, and contempt for rural people. Does Chang Noi have good peripheral vision? Does it miss anything as it stomps around in the jungle or up a hill for a broader view of the landscape? The landscape is mostly the cityscape, although from time to time Chang Noi does venture out of the capital into the provinces. In ‘Drinking with Mr. Progress’ (2001) Chang Noi is in the

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

256

Reviews

countryside sampling illicit moonshine, but the discussion quickly swings back to the centre, and we are again in the world of cartels and monopoly capitalism as Mr. Progress squeezes out the competition, minimises tax, and streamlines production to reduce costs. Except in a few instances, the book views the countryside is a side trip on the way to the largest primate city in the world where all the action takes place. ‘Politics and the Stars’ (2007) reports that two generals and the wife of a third visited a shrine in the northern city of Chiang Mai after the September 2006 coup in search of an assessment of the coup group’s political fortunes. There is not that much about formal religion in the columns, but spiritism and animism catch Chang Noi’s sharp eye as does the influential astrologer and spirit medium, Varin Buaviratlert. Most politicians are gamblers who need to hedge their bets, so astrology and other forms of divination are essential in a book about Thai politics. The partisan and violent politics that beset Thailand today have their roots in earlier periods. Chang Noi traces those roots back to 1932 and the end of the absolute monarchy. The crude pragmatism and egotism that characterise Thai society are explained in part by ‘the heavy legacy of absolutism and dictatorship in the society’s history’ (p. 196). Readers puzzled as to why the policies and actions of government during the prime ministership of Thaksin Shinawatra caused such resentment, or why fear of the countryside and the peasantry preached by the PAD’s Sondhi

Limthongkul attracts such widespread support need look no further than the wry, astute and passionate columns reproduced in this book.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Craig J. Reynolds

Reviews

Ann Danaiya Usher, Thai Forestry: A Critical History. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2009. 248 pp. Paperbound: isbn 978-974-9511-73-2 During a recent field trip to the Khao Phaeng Ma Community Forest, Nakorn Ratchasima Province, I came across a uniformed person in camouflaged fatigues in the visitor and information center. I asked our guide why soldiers were stationed in their forest. With a slight smile in his face, he replied that the fellow was a forest ranger and not a soldier. I guess I should have known better. Wasn’t it in Central Europe where scientific forestry originated and foresters in a number of countries were called “forest police”? While today they are not called forest police anymore, they still wield substantial powers. But it is an interesting historical development that explains why state forestry in many countries, including Thailand, is what it is today—forest management that has timber production as its overriding objective and is at odds, to put it mildly, with local people living in and around forests. In Thai Forestry: A Critical History, Ann Danaiya Usher provides a thorough analysis and fascinating account of more than 100 years of state forestry. She digs deep when she catapults the reader back in time to the origin of scientific forestry to explain contemporary issues, failings and conflicts in Thailand’s forests and among its stakeholders. She leaves few stones unturned to illustrate the scientific basis and historical beginnings

257

of teak exploitation, industrial plantation development and forest conservation in Thailand. She even takes me back to my alma mater, the Albert-LudwigsUniversität in Freiburg, Germany, where the first forestry faculty was founded in 1787. Scientific forestry puts foresters and timber production at the center of forest management. For almost two centuries, little consideration was given to environmental “services” that natural forests provide, such as biodiversity, and the role of local people who often depend on forests for timber, food and medicine. As taught in Freiburg and other central European universities, it had a tremendous influence on forest management across the globe. It reached Thailand even before the Royal Forest Department was established in 1896. Through some historical peculiarities, Denmark also put its mark on state forestry in Thailand, while the American vision of “conservation without people” deeply marked the country’s strategies and actions to conserve whatever is left of its once mighty forests. While it led to a thriving forest industry until the logging ban was imposed in Thailand in 1989, it deprived people of the resources they need for their daily survival. We learn all of this in 188 pages of text written in very accessible language, which makes it at times difficult to put the book down. If you really want to understand the current dilemma in Thailand’s forests, you need to understand the underlying causes of different perspectives on forest management and how it all began,

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

258

Reviews

which Ms. Usher provides very well in her engaging writing. Without this background knowledge on the origin of forestry and focus on producing timber, you can easily draw the wrong conclusions, such as that there is no basis for the way Thai foresters and protectedarea managers go about their work. The title announces the critical nature of Ms. Usher’s account. Without doubt, not everyone will agree with her. She counters potential dissent with a very thorough analysis that is dotted also with critical voices from within the forestry administration. There is no doubt that many well-intentioned individuals work in the various government departments dealing with forestry in Thailand. But bureaucracies are extremely hard to change and it takes a crisis or the death of an honest forester such as Sueb Nakhasathien to provide the impetus for rethinking or a change in policy. In 1994, Nancy Peluso provided a historical account of forestry on the island of Java in Indonesia. I always thought that this was a must-read. Ms. Usher’s book falls into the same category, so I can recommend it very strongly as a must-read for those working in forestry in Thailand and beyond. In fact, it makes an excellent read even for those who do not work in forestry. Those who know me are expecting some critical thoughts. I have two, with the first one being of a minor nature. In a few instances, Ms. Usher gets things slightly incorrect. For example, the German term Waldsterben, or forest death, does not refer to forest growth underperforming in second, third or

fourth rotations, but to damage to forest ecosystems due to acid rain. But if you dig deep then there is always the risk of getting some facts not exactly right. This should not distract from the value of the contribution that Ms. Usher has made to the discourse on Thai forestry. Is the book actually on “Thai forestry” as the title proclaims? In my opinion, it is on Thai state forestry. While we read much about the struggles of forestdependent people, community forestry or the management of forests by local people receives little attention. It is only discussed in the forward-looking section of the last six pages of the book. Thai forests are exclusively under the jurisdiction of the Royal Forest Department; the National Park, Wildlife and Plant Conservation Department; and the Department for Marine and Coastal Resources. However, local communities have been using and managing forests near their homes for centuries. Around 20 million people are considered to be forest-dependent in Thailand. They are estimated to harvest approximately THB 1–4 million worth of forest products per village per year. Almost 11,000 villages are managing community forests and more than 5,000 villages have registered their community forestry programs, covering an area of 1.2 million rai (or 196,667 hectares). While such local forest management provides benefits to rural communities and indigenous peoples, it also helps to conserve biodiversity and enhances carbon stocks, important in the global fight against climate change. Tens of millions of rural people throughout

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

Asia are managing forests—their role could have received more attention by Ms. Usher. I am sure I am not alone with this request. For example, Elinor Ostrom, who last year won the Nobel Prize in Economic Sciences, also spoke out against the dangers of a topdown approach to REDD (Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation) during the Conference of Parties 15 in Copenhagen, Denmark, in December of last year. “Far more effective are approaches that gain the trust of forest communities, respect their rights, and involve them in forest use and monitoring, practices that are positively associated with maintenance of forest density.” Many others, including my former colleagues at the Center for People and Forests (RECOFTC), have echoed her sentiments. However, if you want to know why this is not the case in Thailand—yet—you need to indulge in reading Thai Forestry: A Critical History. Thomas Enters

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

259

260

Reviews

Pasuk Phongpaichit and Chris Baker, Thaksin. 2nd ed. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2009. x+422 pp. Paperbound: isbn 978-974-9511-79-4 No personality has so transfixed the attention of the Thai public over the course of the past decade as Thaksin Shinawatra, a self-made billionaire who entered the political arena in the mid-1990s ultimately to attain and then lose the premiership amidst a rising tide of political polarization and public scandal. Despite his ouster from office in September 2006 followed by his flight into exile as a fugitive from justice in October 2008, Thaksin continues to cast a long shadow over the Thai political scene. His gripping story continues to dominate the Thai news media and popular imagination with nearly daily accounts of new twists and turns in the ongoing contest for control of Thailand’s political soul. More than perhaps any biography in Thai history, the saga of Thaksin’s precipitous rise and fall resonates as a morality tale comparing Thai norms of political behavior with global standards of ethical conduct in public office. As an accomplished duo of close observers of the Thai political and economic scene, Pasuk Phongpaichit and Chris Baker have in this eponymous volume performed a valuable service in distilling the convoluted tale of Thaksin’s rise and fall for an international audience. More than that, they have provided an authoritative account of Thailand’s current political crisis, the mounting sectarian conflict in which Thaksin

continues to play a role from afar. Their absorbing narrative is necessarily a courageous undertaking, as the object of the authors’ critique is still very much alive and kicking. It deserves to be read by all those who have an interest in the enigmatic personality who, more than any other over the course of the past decade, has shaped Thailand’s ongoing struggle towards participatory democracy. Throughout the volume, Pasuk and Baker pursue two themes. One summarizes the course of Thaksin’s rise to power and the backlash that culminated in his downfall. The other examines the broader political and economic context that shaped the course of his venture to reshape the Thai body politic. As the book is titled “Thaksin” and not “Thailand’s Recent Political History,” I shall here focus on the thread of Thaksin’s biography. That is a bit of a problem because Thaksin the person, as distinct from Thaksin the politician, tends to get submerged in the book’s torrent of information on recent Thai political currents. Stylistically, the book is evocative of Bob Woodward’s acclaimed “instant histories” of recent US presidencies. Like Woodward, Pasuk and Baker present the flow of recent Thai political developments centering on Thaksin as a seamless narrative compressed into a fact-filled exposition that races along at an unrelenting pace. Unlike Woodward, however, their presentation is not replete with first-hand interviews, humaninterest anecdotes, and presumptions of “decent intentions”. Instead, their

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

account consists in large measure of a distillation of news reports appearing in the Thai press supplemented by an assortment of recent academic studies. As a result, the book occupies a place somewhere between journalism and scholarship. The volume under review is a considerably extended version—a socalled second edition—of a book of the same title published in 2004. Review of a second edition would ordinarily demand comparison with the first. In the present case that is not an issue. Called a new edition, the book actually reproduces in Part One the original text essentially unchanged and then carries the narrative forward with an entirely new Part Two. That division, split at 2004—the high point in Thaksin’s political career—quite appropriately traces first Thaksin’s rise, and then his fall. With the continuing flow of reportage featuring Thaksin since the publication of the second edition—his unremitting instigation of the Thai political opposition, his disruptive intervention in Thai-Cambodian relations, his losses from the Dubai financial collapse, the impending Thai court judgment concerning his frozen assets—can a third edition of the Thaksin saga be far distant? Or perhaps it can be argued that this second edition was issued prematurely, that it should have been delayed at least until the watershed court decision on Thaksin’s assets. The essentials of Thaksin’s career can be extracted from the densely packed text as follows. Part One recounts Thaksin’s origins and his

261

ascent to business success and political power. Born in 1949 into a prosperous Chiangmai family with Hakka Chinese roots, he was a canny striver from the start, graduating at the top of his class at the Police Academy, gaining a PhD in criminal law at a US university, marrying into a notable police-connected family, serving in the police while dabbling in a computer leasing business, and in 1987 resigning from the police to devote his energies fully to building his fortune through the cultivation of political connections and acquisition of government concessions (i. e., monopoly stakes) in the telecommunications industry. The politics of the concessionsgranting racket inevitably lured him into the Thai political arena. In 1994 he gained the post of foreign minister, and then he rose to heightened prominence as a deputy prime minister shortly before the financial panic of 1997. Somehow, he weathered the crisis well, possibly through judicious hedging based on inside information, and so his wealth continued to grow while many others fell by the wayside. In mid-1998 Thaksin founded the Thai Rak Thai Party (TRT). Initially welcomed as a departure from factional politics, TRT’s diverse constituency soon came to be dominated by big business. To counter that negative perception Thaksin courted the rural vote with a dramatic platform of spending programs addressing issues of particular concern to the rural masses. Though that electioneering gambit threatened to drain the government’s budgetary reserves, Thaksin’s charismatic

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

262

Reviews

leadership, campaign promises, and old-style machine politics allowed TRT to win the election handsomely, and he was installed as prime minister in 2001. His first term in office focused on basic economic, social, and political reforms, with corporate-style management serving as a talismanic means to achieving his objectives. Accompanying those reforms was a rapid slide to one-party dominance, growing nepotism, and the mutation of the old-style money politics into a new big-money politics, accompanied by a massive flow of benefits to the increasingly diversified Shinawatra family commercial empire. Part Two provides an equally factpacked narrative detailing Thaksin’s precipitous descent over the five years since 2004. The process started with the estrangement of many of Thaksin’s allies in the face of his increasingly authoritarian responses while his search for a reliable constituency lured him towards an equally strident populism. The tactic worked, and he was reelected to office in early 2005 with a resounding majority, but at the cost of rising sectional and sectoral animosities. That victory mobilized a conservative backlash that eventually crystallized into a formal government inquiry. After preliminary corruption investigations concerning the setting up of Bangkok’s new international airport, share ramping on the Bangkok stock exchange, the distribution of rubber seedlings to smallholders, the purchase of computers for government agencies, the building of tenements for slum dwellers, and the

disappearance of lottery revenues, the corruption charges against Thaksin and his regime climaxed in January 2006 following the sale of Thaksin’s flagship company, Shin Corp, under exceedingly dubious circumstances. In the ensuing chaos, Thaksin dissolved Parliament and called new elections, which were duly invalidated by the courts on technical grounds. The government’s increasingly tenuous authority culminated in September 2006 in a military coup while Thaksin was overseas. Rather than return to Thailand, he and his family remained overseas, where he orchestrated a campaign of harassment against the coup group and its confederates. In the following months various court cases against Thaksin, family members, and close associates were pursued with a vengeance. In early 2008 Thaksin and his wife finally returned to Thailand, but then in the midst of accelerated court proceedings on various corruption charges they fled the country a second time. Later that year, Thaksin was found guilty in absentia of abuse of power and sentenced to two years in jail, making him a fugitive from Thai justice. In exile, he suffered the further indignities of revocation of several visas, withdrawal of his diplomatic passport, significant shrinkage of his financial worth, and divorce from his wife of 36 years. Subsequent events in Thailand, centering on a dangerous escalation of civil disorder, saw him play the spoiler’s role of distant agitator. And there, as of early 2009, the narrative ends.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

Missing from Pasuk and Baker’s otherwise excellent exposition of Thaksin’s rise and fall is the humaninterest dimension of investigative journalism, the personal anecdotes and psychological insights that, as in Woodward’s “instant histories,” serve to vitalize the protagonist’s life struggle and ultimately help explain his behavior. In tracing the course of Thaksin’s actions and the events that they precipitated, the book reveals much about his career in public affairs, but it never really gets inside his skin to analyze the compulsions and impulses that make him tick—his moral grounding (or lack thereof), his considerable personal charm, his Machiavellian craftiness, his overweening selfesteem, his bewildering choices of allies and adversaries, his equally raveled relations with the Crown, his seemingly unquenchable thirst for wealth and power (and for vengeance when thwarted), and so forth. The book concludes with a summary interpretation of the contemporary Thai political crisis, in which Thaksin is portrayed in the incongruous role of self-proclaimed champion of the oppressed—“a super-rich tycoon calling for revolution” (p. 362). Here finally the authors reveal something of their personal opinions, referring to Thaksin as “a man of no real principle, ethical or political” (p. 354), stating that “Thaksin’s project was built around a fatal confusion. . . Throughout his career, politics and profit-making were entwined around one another like a pair of copulating snakes. . . It

263

was impossible to separate his quest for greater power to effect social and economic change from his quest for greater power to make money” (p. 356). With that characterization, Thaksin’s personal drama takes on the trappings of a Faustian parable, pursuing an ageless, universal theme: Mephistopheles— Two functions would he pleasantly combine, In fact he thought his notion very fine: To govern, and indulge his appetite. Faust— A woeful error. He who has to hold Command of men must have a leader’s mind, Joy in authority, lofty will and bold, A will not by the common herd divined, To trusted ears he tells his quiet intent, And this is done — to nations’ wonderment. So stands he high, supreme, and so obeyed, The noblest still. Indulgence must degrade. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [1832], Faust, Part II, Act IV.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Edward Van Roy

264

Reviews

Alexandra Kent and David Chandler, editors, People of Virtue: Reconfiguring Religion, Power and Moral Order in Cambodia Today. NIAS Studies in Asian Topics 43, Nordic Institute of Asian Studies. Copenhagen: NIAS Press, 2009. xvii+323 pp. Hardbound: isbn 978-87-7694-036-2; paperbound: isbn 978-87-7694-037-9 A number of distinguished Cambodia scholars met in a conference at Varberg, Sweden in October 2005. They included the historians Alain Forest, David Chandler and Penny Edwards, the religious specialist Anne Hansen, and the anthropologists Judy Ledgerwood, Eve Zucker, John Marston and Alexandra Kent. The Venerable Khy Sovanratana of the Sangha Council of Cambodia spoke at the gathering, along with Heng Monychena of the non-governmental organization (NGO) Buddhism for Development and the Cambodian academic and education specialist Heng Sreang. The participants’ concerns included, as Kent and Chandler state in their introduction to this volume of essays that grew out of the conference, questions of ‘how community may be repaired after violent conflict, how religion and politics are interwoven and how moral order and historical change impact upon one another’ (p. 1). Given the melancholy fact that so many other countries today are victims of war, instability and violence, these questions have broader, global significance. How much changed irrevocably in Cambodia as a result of the violence and upheaval of the Pol Pot years between

1975 and 1979? As Judy Ledgerwood argues in her essay in this volume, ‘If you ask a rural Khmer about Buddhism today you are likely to get the reply that Buddhism is much the same as it was before war and revolution devastated their country. What is different today, they will say, is the morality of the people, their inability to live according to the tenets of Buddhism’ (p. 147). This view fits with the cyclical view of history of past Khmer society as alternating light and dark, of periods of prosperity and harmony interrupted by periods of destruction. Thus, for example, Cambodia slipped into a dark age in the late 1770s from which it did not emerge until after the coronation of Ang Duong in 1848. Eve Zucker’s contribution draws attention to a 19th century Khmer poem analyzed in David Chandler’s ‘Songs at the Edge of the Forest’ which deals with the problems of the ‘rescuing of civilization from the clutches of chaos, the restoration of moral order, and the attempt to smooth over the rupture with that order’s past’ (p. 195). Whether such earlier upheavals were on the scale of the cataclysm that hit Cambodia in the 1970s is a moot point, but the Buddhist religion was able to act as a cement for moral order and reconstruction, and provide an ethical compass for the people’s lives in times of turmoil. Today, as this volume suggests, the institutions of Buddhism themselves have been dented; the sangha ‘has yet to recover both morally and intellectually after the years of repression’ (p. 11), and many village elders have lost either their authority or their virtue (pp. 195–212).

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

As the contributors note, the period of ‘Democratic Kampuchea’ has been closely scrutinized by scholars. The ‘killing fields’ are the subject of countless books and documentary films. In 1970, the country was sucked into the Viet Nam War and subjected to destructive forces much deadlier than the Thai and Vietnamese armies which had ravaged the land in preceding centuries. The civil war that broke out after the National Assembly deposed Prince Sihanouk was fought with pitiless savagery on all sides. Between the coup and early 1973, the United States dropped almost 540,000 tons of bombs on the countryside with catastrophic effects. If the warweary Cambodian people thought the victory of the Khmers Rouges in April 1975 would bring peace and national reconciliation, their hopes were dashed as Pol Pot’s shadowy Angkar turned the country into one huge prison farm. The removal of the Pol Pot regime by the Vietnamese with the invasion of Christmas Day 1978 was a liberation from a regime perhaps best described as a ‘thanatocracy’. Yet the incoming People’s Republic of Kampuchea found that the destruction of the Pol Pot regime did not automatically lend it legitimacy in the eyes of the Cambodian people; indeed the discredited Khmers Rouges were able to capitalize on the government’s ties with Viet Nam in order to give themselves some legitimacy. Sadly, too, in what amounted to a tragic coda to the Cold War, many Western and ASEAN nations refused to recognize the new regime, subjected Cambodia to a diplomatic, aid and trade

265

embargo, and even helped resuscitate the Khmers Rouges. Cambodia thus emerged from the chaos of the 1970s and 1980s as a shattered society. That is the point of departure of this intriguing book. How, ask the authors, can such a traumatized society heal itself? How can it come to terms with and cope with such a bloody interlude? Moreover, life for most Cambodians today remains harsh, even as the threat of war recedes into the past. Most Khmers are powerless before new forces that threaten to turn their world upside down, buffeted between the waves of modernity and tradition, seeking a solid bottom on which to place their feet. Market liberalism and globalization might promise to be ‘a rising tide that lifts all boats’ towards prosperity, but most Cambodians remain poor in what remains one of the world’s poorest countries, and such materialist dogmas cannot provide a moral bedrock for a society. The poor are also the victims of widespread corruption and abuse of power, social evils which are both the product and the cause of a widespread moral vacuum. With secular remedies discredited, many Khmers look to religion as the only force capable of regenerating their society. However, there is a problem here. As Kent and Chandler put it, the Buddhist sangha ‘has yet to recover both morally and intellectually from years of repression’ (p.11). Yet the tenor of this book is cautiously optimistic. As Heng Sreang points out, modernist monks now play an active part in reformist politics: a role that has

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

266

Reviews

often brought them into sharp conflict with the government as most notably in 1998 when monks were assaulted, fired on and shocked with electric batons for their part in peaceful demonstrations. Such actions have also brought them into conflict with the Cambodian Buddhist Supreme Patriarch. Mindful of the past political role of the sangha, Heng Sreang reminds us of the actions of Hem Chieu and other leading monks who triggered the country’s movement for national independence from the French back in 1942. In 2006, too, 50 monks joined a 50-kilometre march for freedom of expression and non-violence which was organized by the Alliance for Freedom of Expression in Cambodia, a coalition of 28 NGOs. As Heng argues, ‘the sangha is inevitably drawn into the Cambodian political arena’. While there is a danger of politicians attempting to co-opt them for their own sometimes questionable ends, monks ‘could be a constructive force for the improvement and reconstruction of the social well-being and political life of the country’ (pp. 249, 251). As Khy Sovanratana notes, however, that would require improvements in the religious and secular education of monks so that they would be better able to advise and guide. While the effects of the bloody and disruptive past still weigh heavily, as Christine Nissen argues in the concluding essay, ‘it may be inappropriate to speak of a moral breakdown’ in Cambodian society (p. 287). The ubiquitous corruption in Cambodian public life is not socially accepted by the majority

of Cambodians. In the past, as Alain Forest puts it: ‘It is no exaggeration to say that Khmer Buddhism has survived because of popular consent and popular initiatives (and the strong interdependence between the faithful and the monks)…’ As a result, he continues, ‘Buddhism was the only real, ensuring, unifying factor in this divided and desolate country’ (p. 24). Religion is still deeply rooted in Cambodian culture and Buddhism, as Alex Hinton notes, has ‘provided a way of coping with the past through meditation and concepts of forgiveness and letting go of anger’ (p. 76). Thus, there are grounds to hope that the old Cambodian adage will continue to hold true: (loosely translated) ‘the country of the Khmers will never die’.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

John Tully

Reviews

Caroline Hughes, Dependent Communities: Aid and Politics in Cambodia and East Timor. Southeast Asia Program, Cornell University. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2009. 265 pp. Hardbound: isbn 978-087727-778-1; paperbound: isbn 978-087727-748-4. Caroline Hughes, professor of governance at Murdoch University, is a well-established Cambodia specialist and has written, apart from the present volume under review and other titles, The Political Economy of Cambodia’s Transition, 1991–2001. This book, Dependent Communities: Aid and Politics in Cambodia and East Timor, makes an important contribution to the little-researched area of linkages between the politics of massive international intervention in national and local political arenas, and the subsequent politics of aid-dependent development. The comparison between Cambodia and Timor Leste is particularly appropriate as both those countries experienced massive international interventions in the wake of disastrous Cold-War– induced civil war. Subsequently, both of them received massive inflows of aid. For Cambodia, that aid equaled 112.6 percent of its national budget, a level exceeded only in Afghanistan. The level of aid to Cambodia continues unabated today. Timor Leste similarly became heavily aid-dependent after its 1999 turmoil. Chapter II compares the decades of disastrous civil wars in Cambodia with

267

the one of Timor Leste in the context of the Cold War. In this context it is crucial for analysis of aid and dependence to identify in either case which side was favored by the powers that be; i. e., the West (in political matters) or the North (in economic matters) which control the United Nations, the Bretton Woods institutions and the spigot of aid. In Cambodia, the West clearly favored the resistance forces, even if they included the Khmer Rouge, over the People’s Republic of Kampuchea (PRK) that was established after the Vietnamese intervention in 1979. Lavish aid was bestowed on the former in their refugee camps, while Cambodia under the PRK was isolated politically and economically. In Timor Leste, the case was not so clear. When the Suharto regime in Indonesia, a staunch ally of the West, invaded the country using the obviously leftist Frente Revolucionaria de Timor Leste Indepenente (FRETILIN) with the excuse of fighting communism, the United States tacitly approved that invasion even though the United Nations had never recognized Indonesian sovereignty over Timor Leste. However, subsequent large-scale human rights abuses by the Suharto regime in Timor Leste, including the killing of an estimated 100,000 to 200,000 people during the subsequent two decades, tilted the support of the West in favor of the resistance forces. Hughes compares the experiences of the large-scale peacekeeping operations deployed by the United Nations in both Cambodia and Timor Leste. Those

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

268

Reviews

interventions shared the common characteristic of some form of executive power not usually present in United Nations peacekeeping operations. In the case of Cambodia, those powers were quite limited; in Timor Leste, they were much more intrusive. The United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC) immediately left Cambodia after the successful elections and a new royal government had been established in 1993. Thereupon a totally new aid picture emerged, dominated by bilateral donors and the UN family of agencies plus the Asian Development Bank, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund. UNTAC accorded legitimate status to all four warring factions, including the Khmer Rouge. All of them, including the de facto government of PRK (later renamed State of Cambodia [SOC]), were reduced to being “existing administrative structures” which UNTAC was supposed to control—an impossible job. How could a handful of international officers control a bureaucracy that had been in power for 11 years? The present reviewer, as the UNTAC-appointed “shadow governor” of Siemreap, observed this anomaly firsthand in attempting to administer the SOC, with its well-established bureaucracy, with the help of a few others who didn’t speak Cambodian. Unlike UNTAC, the United Nations Transitional Authority in East Timor (UNTAET) had real executive powers. Because Timor Leste had never been a country and because the Indonesian

provincial authorities were evacuated along with 300,000 Timorese, UNTAET actually became the government and had cabinet ministers along with Timorese. After independence had been achieved in 2002, it was replaced by the United Nations Mission of Support to East Timor (UNMISET), which continued to provide executive support until its mandate ended in 2005. However, in the following year of 2006, when the political situation once more became volatile, the new and larger United Nations Integrated Mission of Timor Leste (UNMIT) was established with a mandate until 2010. Most of the book under review is devoted to a comparative analysis of two issues: (a) the international policies that focused on rebuilding state institutions to accommodate the global market; and (b) the dilemmas of politicians in Cambodia and Timor Leste who struggled to satisfy both wealthy foreign benefactors and constituents at home. Hughes’s critical attitude towards international polices generally known as the “Washington Consensus” was applied to the political rather than economic effects of independence. Timor Leste became heavily aiddependent following 1999, due not only to the destruction wrought by departing Indonesian armed forces, but as well due to the effects on the Timorese economy after being suddenly wrenched from the Indonesian economy. Sadly, however, after the external threat of human rights abuses had disappeared, donors simply lost interest in the plight of the country. Thus the first Timorese government had

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

to focus on Timorese vulnerability to compassion fatigue. The elites focused on “branding” Timor Leste as a nation for “prudence”; In other words, East Timor had to advertise for and solicit aid. Hence, the author asserts, in Timor Leste, the political leaders discretion of action was minimal. The finances of the government were transparent for all to see and the bureaucracy was organized to prevent misappropriation of funds entrusted to a generally clean administration. Cambodia, on the other hand, never had to beg for aid. Throughout the postconflict period, until today, donors have continued to provide massive aid to the country. Hughes describes the feeling of mutual distrust that developed between the donors and Hun Sen, who reemerged as the only strongman after 1998. In this context, the donors channeled the bulk of their aid through the growing numbers and power of Western nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) and to the Cambodian government through project aid, rather than program aid, leaving the government with little leverage or control over such aid. Often project aid goes to pay fat-cat foreign “experts” fantastic salaries so that the money mostly goes right back to the host country. At the receiving end, the ability of Hun Sen and the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP) to flout donor demands for “conditionality” was a fascinating story which Hughes attributes to three factors: firstly, Cambodian politicians simply removed a large proportion of the de facto government budget from the books

269

and therefore beyond the purview of donors, distributing it through a shadow state of patronage networks that linked the party, the bureaucracy, and the military ever more tightly as time went by. Their leeway has expanded recently with two new sources of funds: the People’s Republic of China as a source of aid and investment, and oil reserves from the Gulf of Thailand. Secondly, the government retains its maneuverability in an aid-dependent context because Hun Sen, after having consolidated power in 1998 and beyond, has achieved a degree of moral authority in the eyes of the donors because what he is doing appears to them to be working. Hughes does not commit the folly of other Western writers on Cambodia, of engaging in Hun Sen bashing. For instance, unlike the conventional wisdom of such writers, she did not label the clashes of 5–6 July 1997 as a coup d’état by Hun Sen, rather calling it the outbreak of hostilities. She argues that Prince Norodom Ranariddh, copremier with Hun Sen and his adversary, decried his own lack of power and was attempting to build up his party’s military forces. Ironically, the donors were relieved that the destabilizing era of having two premiers ended in 1998, even if the winner Hun Sen was not their favorite. Thirdly, the Cambodian government’s ability to resist pressure for reform has resulted from the demobilizing tactics of donors themselves with respect to Cambodian civil society. The donors supported the establishment of civil society including labor unions,

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

270

Reviews

among other groups, but have left these organizations weakly defended against government tactics that include violence and the prohibition of protest marches. Chapter VIII, the last, analyses the key question of whether a dependent community which emerges from an act of international intervention to end a war can offer ordinary people a meaningful framework within which to imagine their own citizenship and organize participation. Based on Hughes’s personal fieldwork in Cambodia from 1996 to 2003 and in Timor Leste in 2005, the analysis provides new insights into the problem. In Cambodia at the end of the 1990s, the CPP succeeded in maintaining the loyalty of the people, particularly in rural areas. Two factors that helped the CPP contributed to the success of the decentralization process. The first was the election of commune councils in 2002, which resulted in an overwhelming CPP victory. The CPP retained control of the councils which they had held since 1980. Second was the expansion of a village-based participatory development program called SEILA (“Foundation Stone”), that had been operating successfully in the northwestern provinces, to the whole country. The UNDP executed the Cambodia Area Rehabilitation and Regeneration Project (CARERE), which was the forerunner of SEILA, in the whole country. SEILA involves provincial development committees to support capital investment projects proposed by communities. Finally Hun Sen himself is forever present

in the rural areas giving speeches at inauguration ceremonies of projects associated with himself, including many schools bearing his name. The story of Timor Leste reveals an entirely different picture. Hughes’s analysis is helped by detailed interviews in two villages, Laleila and Tibar. The village interviewees drew comparisons between the post-independence era and the Indonesian era, remarking the sense of isolation that had come with independence. Government intended to promote local control, as opposed to facilitating broader national or regional control; that in fact encouraged political fragmentation, particularly since local persons had no opportunity to provide input in planning and thereby assert some control over the selection and designs of the projects to be funded. Hughes observes that the FRETILIN government of 2002–2007 in Timor Leste more closely resembled that of the Cambodian resistance, the FUNCINPEC and its allies, rather than the CPP; although they did not receive lavish aid like the resistance in Cambodia. Most of the FRETILIN central committee members who survived Indonesia’s 25-year occupation had spent the war in exile. When FRETILIN exiles returned they found that their views on the question of nationhood were significantly out of step with those of resistance forces at home. Hughes emphasizes that the return of FRETILIN exiles to Timor Leste and their accession to power put two contrasting forms of nationalism on a collision course. For those of the 1970s resistance movement,

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

the “Indonesianization” of Timor Leste was to be resisted, as it represented oppression and “de-culturization”. They demanded that aspects of Portuguese culture including the Portuguese language be adopted. The Timorese who had stayed in country, on the other hand, insisted that independence also meant rejecting Portuguese colonialism and language in favor of Tetum, which everybody spoke. Hughes’s book is highly recommended for general readers and a must for those interested in post-conflict countries. Benny Widyono

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

271

272

Reviews

Grant Evans, The Last Century of Lao Royalty: A Documentary History. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2009. 443 pp. 523 photos. Hardbound: isbn 978-974-9511-66-4 This large, beautifully produced and lavishly illustrated book brings to life the all-but-forgotten Lao monarchy through more than 500 photographs and dozens of descriptions, reports, letters and interviews with surviving members of the former royal family. The photographs have been assiduously collected over several years, and many of the documents have been translated from French and Lao by their compiler. To set the context for the photographs and documents, Grant Evans provides a longish introduction. Apart from its value to historians and anyone interested in the history of Laos, the book should appeal immensely to the worldwide Lao diaspora, nostalgic for the kingdom they once knew. An anthropologist turned historian, Evans is one of the finest scholars working on Laos today, with several books to his name. He is particularly interested in how cultural and religious symbols and rituals are constructed and used for political ends; on the face of it, this book reflects those interests. His presentation, however, invites a number of questions. This brief review concentrates on just two. The first is: what sort of message does this book have for a reader? The second is: how is a reader to understand the historical role of the monarchy in Laos?

So, first to the book. To begin with, there is an intriguing ambiguity in the title that is carried through into the content. The ‘last century’ of Lao royalty has at least three possible meanings. Since the Lao monarchy came to an end in 1975 when King Sisavang Vatthana abdicated, and this volume purports to be ‘a documentary history’, the most obvious reading would be that the ‘last century’ refers to the period from 1875 to 1975. Since the book begins with the return in 1888 of King Ounkham to Luang Phrabang after it had been sacked the previous year by Tai and Chinese bandits, the ‘last’ century would actually cover just a ‘short’ century from 1888 to 1975. Or the last century could refer to Lao royalty during the twentieth century, which is what it is mostly about. Or the last century could date from the book’s publication, extended to cover the ‘long’ century from 1888 to the present. This last alternative is not as unlikely as would at first appear, since Evans includes a recent interview with the pretender to the Lao throne, whom he describes as being ‘in waiting’, and ends with an account of how commemorative rituals are performed for the royal family to this day. The book is divided into 16 sections, arranged in part chronologically and in part thematically. They begin with the transfer of sovereignty over Lao territories east of the Mekong from Siam to France, as seen through colonialist French eyes, followed by two sections covering the ‘Main Palace’ during the reign of King Sisavang Vong (1885–1959; reigned 1904–1959),

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

and the ‘Front Palace’ personified by Prince Phetsarath (1890–1959). These two institutions refer to the king and the ouparat or viceroy, a position that King Chulalongkorn abolished in Siam, but which lived on in Luang Phrabang in an hereditary form until 1920, when Phetsarath’s father died. It then lapsed, only to be resuscitated in 1941 when Phetsarath was appointed to the position. The political pas de deux of Sisavang Vong and Phetsarath was critical in shaping the future of Laos during the turbulent years from the Japanese coup de force of March 1945 until the country obtained full independence from France in October 1953. Evans devotes a section to this period when the monarchy was challenged by the nationalist Lao Issara, led by Phetsarath. The relationship between the two men is discussed later in this review. Suffice it here to note that while Phetsarath declared the unification of Laos as an independent state, the king favoured the return of the French. The next section, subtitled ‘The Making of a National Monarchy’, is devoted to royal travels, both internally and internationally, which Evans interprets as having established the legitimacy of the king as head of state in the eyes of all Lao. The following section covers the rule of King Sisavang Vatthana (subtitled ‘Ruling through Righteousness’). This subtitle, like that of the previous section, is indicative of the sympathetic treatment Evans accords the monarchy throughout the book. Subsequent sections are devoted to the royal families of Champasak (focusing

273

on Prince Boun Oum) and Xiang Khuang, and to the political activities of the princely half-brothers, Souvanna Phouma and Souphanouvong. Four sections follow whose rationale seems to be that they reveal the personalities and activities of kings and princes in a positive light. One section is devoted entirely to the art of embroidery in gold thread, apparently singled out because it is traditionally performed by the ladies of the extended royal family. Other arts wholly or partly dependent on royal patronage are ignored, such as Lao classical dance, puppetry, sculpture, wood carving and the decorative arts as applied in the royal monasteries and the palace. One section is devoted to the important ritual and religious role of the monarchy, the disappearance of which Evans, the anthropologist, clearly regrets. And the reader can sympathise, in comparing the New Year ceremonies of 1953 described by Henri Deydier with what remains of them today in the Lao People’s Democratic Republic (PDR). Next come royal portraits presented in the form of interviews by Evans of five members of the royal family, including Prince Soulivong, grandson of King Sisavang Vatthana and pretender to the Lao throne; and royal weddings, which Evans presents as nationally unifying public spectacles. While the interviews (some of which could have been edited) reveal the homely side of the Luang Phrabang monarchy, the weddings displayed both wealth and status—as most Lao weddings do.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

274

Reviews

The two brief concluding sections tell the story of the imprisonment and death of King Sisavang Vatthana, his only queen (his father had had 11) Khamphui, and Crown Prince Vong Savang at the hands of the new communist rulers, who refused for years to admit they were dead; and the revival of commemorative rituals for King Sisavang Vong in Luang Phrabang, and their performance by members of the royal family in France. The future of the Lao monarchy is thus permitted to remain open. The reader certainly comes away from this book with a more rounded picture of the Lao royal families, from their personal lives (no whiff of scandal noted, except that some failed to marry ethnic Lao spouses) to their ritual obligations and their political roles, which they performed with dignity. In his introduction Evans absolves the Lao monarchy of virtually all criticism (though to be fair, not all of the documents he includes are entirely laudatory). No character flaws or political misjudgements are discussed. Criticism by the Lao Issara of the political role played by Sisavang Vatthana, when he was Crown Prince, is brushed aside with the help of political theory: it is difficult to be a crown prince (as Charles Windsor would probably agree). Corruption on the part of Prince Boun Oum is mentioned to be quickly passed over. Evans emphasises rather the significant ritual role monarchy played in Lao culture and religion. The reader may be forgiven for concluding that Evans would be happy to see Laos revert to a constitutional monarchy—even though

he admits this is unlikely. There is, however, a downside to monarchy that Evans does not examine, which has to do with how the example of hereditary privilege reinforces social status and hierarchy and so limits (or even prevents) social mobility. This was certainly the case in Laos, where the heads powerful aristocratic families monopolised political power, mostly for their own benefit and at the expense of the nation. King Sisavang Vatthana might admonish them for corruption and be frugal in his own habits, but he also endorsed their activities by presenting them with noble titles. The very existence of monarchy underwrote their hereditary position in a firmly entrenched social hierarchy, which the unscrupulous and greedy were able to exploit. Furthermore, in a hierarchical society the relationship between monarchy and democracy is often problematic. Recall that to relegate monarchy to a purely constitutional role took centuries in England. There is, by the way, a justification for having a king as head of state in a Theravada Buddhist country, which Evans does not make explicitly, but which is implied by his focus on ritual and religion. Through the concept of karma, Buddhism accepts that human beings are not born equal: some have more advantages than others because they are more advanced along the universal path towards Enlightenment. The social circumstances of rebirth reflect this, as does social status, which is accorded to monks and families wealthy enough to make considerable

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

merit through donations to the Sangha. Kings stand at the apex of this meritmaking social hierarchy, revered, as is the King of Thailand, for the merit made in previous lifetimes in order to be reborn into the royal family and become king, as well as for the additional merit made this time around. All five Theravada Buddhist countries were once monarchies. Only Thailand and Cambodia remain so, and the monarchy in Cambodia hardly inspires confidence in its longevity. Every reader, Lao or foreign, might have his or her own view on whether the Lao monarchy should be restored (as the Cambodian monarchy has been). While Evans’s own views can only be guessed at, he presents such a favourable view of constitutional monarchy in Laos prior to formation of the Lao PDR that to the reader might reasonably detect a subtext favouring its restoration. In reviewing the performance of the Lao monarchy prior to 1975, The Last Century of Lao Royalty presents history in two forms. There are the documents, carefully selected, and there is Evans’s 40-page introduction, which presents his own interpretation of the political and cultural/religious activities of the Lao monarchy. Of those two areas of activity, this review focuses on Evans’s interpretation of the former, as it was the political decisions of Lao royalty (not just the king, but other royal players too) that shaped the independent Kingdom of Laos at key moments in its brief history. Under the French, the kings of Luang Phrabang had limited jurisdiction and

275

were not constitutional monarchs. Evans dates the constitutional monarchy in Laos from 23 April 1946, when King Sisavang Vong was re-enthroned as king at the behest of the Lao Issara, which had deposed him the previous October. This event climaxed a tumultuous year during which Lao nationalism came of age. It was, of course, encouraged by the French as a riposte to the ‘pan-Thai-ism’ emanating from Bangkok. Nationalist activities took place mainly in Viang Chan, which by then had come to be included in the protectorate of Luang Phrabang. The court, however, was largely insulated from these developments—until the protectorate was brought to a sudden end by the Japanese coup de force of March 1945. The king was forced to declare independence, but he did so not for Laos as a whole—only for the Kingdom of Luang Phrabang. The rest was administered by the Japanese by right of conquest over the French administration. From his coronation in 1904, Sisavang Vong had had minimal contact with central and southern Laos, whose inhabitants overwhelmingly did not recognise him as their king. Personally conservative, in 1945 he was already 60 years old and set in his ways. Prince Phetsarath, then ouparat, was only five years younger, but far more widely travelled within the country and much more forward-looking and abreast of events. It was Phetsarath who led the Lao Issara to seize power after the Japanese surrender, and who proclaimed the independence and unification of

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

276

Reviews

Laos. The king, already in contact with the French in the form of Major (later Colonel) Hans Imfeld (not Emfeld), and clearly acting on French advice, thereupon dismissed Phetsarath as both prime minister of the government of Luang Phrabang and ouparat. Evans explains this clash between the king, strongly supported by Crown Prince Sisavang Vatthana, and Prince Phetsarath as an ‘unintended outcome of the half-way house political structure put in place in 1941’ when the Luang Phrabang kingdom was extended to include the provinces of Haut Mékong, Xiang Khuang, and most notably Viang Chan in compensation for the loss (temporary, as it turned out) of Sayaboury to Thailand. He portrays the king as doing what he thought best for all Laos, given its weakness in the face of powerful expansionist neighbours. And he plays down differences between Sisavang Vong and Phetsarath on the grounds that the latter always wanted Laos to be a constitutional monarchy, and so was never really opposed to the king. What this explanation glosses over is the failure of both the king and the equally conservative crown prince either to understand the forces of nationalism that the Second World War and its aftermath had unleashed, not only in Laos but across the colonial world, or to grasp the opportunities it offered to assume a leading role in the movement for Lao independence—as Sihanouk did in Cambodia. Phetsarath, on the other hand, as formerly the most senior Lao civil servant under the French,

not only viewed Laos as a whole, but also understood much better both the changes that were occurring and the opportunities they offered. These differences in understanding were what motivated the two men to take the actions they did, not any personal antagonism or competitiveness between them and their families. What ill-feeling there was later resulted from the king’s response to Phetsarath’s proclamation of Lao independence as a constitutional monarchy. The king did not have to dismiss Phetsarath. He could have played a more ambiguous role. Instead he aligned himself with the French. Evans takes to task my own argument, in my History of Laos (Cambridge University Press, 1997), that the king missed another opportunity to raise the leadership profile of the monarchy by making Viang Chan his principal place of residence, which would have better enabled him to serve as a symbol of national unity, reduce the regionalism of the south, and act as a restraining influence in case of political conflict. Evans rejects such criticism on the grounds of the king’s age, which made him reluctant to move, that Luang Phrabang had ‘as much claim as Vientiane to be the historical capital of the country’, and that the king had important ritual functions to perform in Luang Phrabang. But his arguments miss the point. Evans is forced to admit that maintaining Luang Phrabang as a separate royal capital did demonstrate ‘a certain failure of political imagination’, but even for this he blames the Royal Lao Government, not the monarchy. I

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

still maintain, howeves, that a significant opportunity was lost for which the monarchy was most to blame, and this was of a pattern with the failure of the king to play any leadership role in achieving Lao independence. Evans maintains that royal travels and weddings, plus fulfilling the crown’s constitutional and religious obligations, were enough to change the Luang Phrabang monarchy into widely loved kings of Laos. I am not so sure. Sisavang Vong suffered from arthritis and did not like to travel around the country. His son travelled more, both as crown prince and king, but like his father preferred to remain in Luang Phrabang. I remember watching him as king in the 1960s on some choreographed occasions. He clearly lacked the common touch, which Sihanouk and Phetsarath had, and always looked severe and unbending. He was received with respect, but not with warmth or enthusiasm. In fact most rural folk had little idea who he was or what he stood for, which worried the United States embassy. In 1970, in a document included in this book, US Ambassador G. McMurtrie Godley expressed his doubts that the king or crown prince could ever ‘provide the kind of national identity that Asian monarchies such as the Thai or Japanese give’ (p. 212). The king, he noted, was not outgoing and had proved ‘inept’ in winning support in southern Laos (where most people still regarded Boun Oum as their ‘king’). Despite McMurthrie’s criticism, Evans presents a very positive picture of the last (and only) two kings of

277

the modern Kingdom of Laos—both in his introduction and through the documents he has chosen. (I wonder, did the French embassy share the positive American views that Evans includes?) His purpose in writing the book is to restore the monarchy to its proper place in Lao history—a place that has been all but erased in the political propaganda that masquerades as history in the Lao PDR. It is unlikely that a documentary history in English would have much impact in Laos (the Lao translation of Evans’s Short History of Laos has a better chance of doing that); but the photographs are now on record and speak louder than foreign words in a country whose proclaimed ideology is discredited and whose communist rulers have had no alternative but to revert to nationalism—and have already gone so far as to raise a statue to King Fa Ngum, founder of the Lao kingdom of Lan Xang! Evans states that another purpose in compiling this book was to bring about the ‘recovery of memory’. But just what does that mean? Memory can only be recovered in those who have all but forgotten past experiences; it cannot be recovered in those who have never experienced the events described. For the next generation, the past must be constructed anew, and that is the task of historians. The Last Century of Lao Royalty goes some way towards filling a significant gap in Lao history. However, a definitive history of the Lao monarchy still remains to be written—not least because the Lao government refused

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

278

Reviews

Evans access to the royal archives, such is its continuing sensitivity to the monarchy. Errors are few in this comprehensive study (though former foreign minister Quinim Pholsena was assassinated in 1963, not in the ‘1950s’). Attentive readers will find a few annoying typographical errors, mostly among French terms, where a couple of dozen additional accents need to be sprinkled around. Lao transliterations are not always consistent (Phoui and Phouy, for example, on page 11), but the book must have been a challenging one to edit. The index of photo credits does not list all photographs not taken by Evans himself, as it claims to. Who, for instance, took the wonderful series of photographs of the That Luang festival in Luang Phrabang in 1938? And it is not always clear when ‘documents’ have in

fact been written by Evans himself (as is the one on Souphanouvong). But such blemishes are few. In conclusion, this impressive book presents a sympathetic (some might say overly sympathetic) portrait of the Lao monarchy. If the suspicion remains that there is a subtext to be read into it, Evans has every right to his interpretation—as others have to differ in theirs. Constitutional monarchy may or may not be a preferable form of government for Laos, though the current Lao ruling elite would certainly not think so. Nonetheless, whatever may be the reader’s view, the future of the Lao monarchy is a matter for the Lao people alone to decide.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Martin Stuart-Fox

Reviews

Søren Ivarsson, Creating Laos: The Making of a Lao Space between Indochina and Siam, 1860–1945. NIAS Monographs 112, Nordic Institute of Asia Studies. Copenhagen: NIAS Press, 2008. 250 pp. Hardbound: isbn 978-877694-022-5; paperbound: isbn 978-877694-023-2 Creating Laos is a delightful book. It will be of interest to Lao-watchers (both academics and informed readers), regional specialists and those investigating the rise and consolidation of contemporary nation states. The book deals with just a snippet of Lao history, from 1860 to 1945. Ivarsson sets out to understand the meaning of “Laos” during this time: what was Laos as a territory, a people, an idea? He explains that his interest is in “cultural nationalism” rather than state nationalism. His is not a history of treaties or policies, but an account of an emerging and shifting cultural sense of nationhood. Ivarsson’s use of the concept of culture here is unusual: he appears to mean it in the sense of “high culture”, although he does not use this phrase. Ivarsson proceeds from a study of the records left by elites such as “historians, lexicographers, artists and the like” (pp. 8ff.), educated and often urban people who were engaged in often explicit attempts to be opinion leaders and to shape emerging conditions. He also includes analysis of the written records left by French colonial officers and Thai authors as well as administrative maps. Over the last century, anthropologists

279

and more recently academics in related disciplines such as cultural studies have “relativized” culture by arguing that, far from the preserve of the so-called “civilized” few or leaders, culture is something that everyone has, and the issue for analysis is to elucidate the patterns, meanings and discourses that inform not only high culture, but also mass culture and indeed subaltern or oppositional cultural dialogues. Readers looking for an historical account of cultural nationalism in this sense, of the everyday, lived experience of Laoness, will not find it in this book. It is very much about how “the Lao” were known by others and by leaders, rather than what they knew about themselves in these relationships. Nonetheless, the book remains an excellent addition to the literature, not least for its attention to cultural aspects, and it will no doubt spur more attention to cultural aspects in future historical research in the region. Creating Laos begins with an examination of the idea of “Laos” during the first phase of the colonial encounter. This topic is approached through an examination of French colonial discourse, attempts by European scientists to define a Lao race, and the use of history to argue that French colonialism had recuperated a people and place fallen from a previous golden age. This chapter illustrates decisively that knowing Laos was not a matter of simple observation, but of creating an object to then know. The second chapter provides a very interesting account of Laos through Thai eyes, particularly the

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

280

Reviews

evolution of writings about the so-called “lost territories” among scholars and in school texts. Ivarsson puts forward the argument that Laos was a “noncountry” from the Thai perspective at this time (pp. 65ff.). The third chapter is the longest and also one of the most interesting. It provides an account of how Lao nationalism was cultivated by the French (particularly in the period 1893–1940) through interventions such as road links between the major Mekong Valley towns, national histories and a national language. Ivarsson dwells on urban elite perspectives, remaining silent on the experiences of rural people, uplanders and minority groups. Nevertheless, the chapter sparkles with an entertaining and insightful use of fresh sources, such as the French civil servant who is quoted as describing Laos as “a blister on the foot of the peasants from Annam” (Marquet in Ivarsson, p. 106). Such arresting quotations are effective in persuading the reader of Ivarsson’s main argument: that Laos, in the form in which we encounter it today, was not a foregone conclusion. Rather, it was “created” — in sometimes unintended ways — through the tension between competing images and projects of what Laos was and what it could or should be. What remains to examine now is if and how these competing elite projects and images translated into everyday lives and experiences. Then, as now, most Lao lived in rural areas and were diverse in language, education and interest in urban politicking. Was there a “trickle-down” effect from the

elites that Ivarsson discusses to such people? Were their ideas opposed, adopted or transformed in such local interactions? Ivarsson’s innovative and highly readable book proides a valuable step towards considering these and other questions about the Lao past.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Holly High

Reviews

Shigeharu Tanabe, editor, Imagining Communities in Thailand: Ethnographic Approaches. Chiang Mai: Mekong Press, 2008. viii+221 pp. Paperbound: isbn 978-974-133964-8 Four of the six papers collected together for this volume come from a symposium attended by Japanese and Thai scholars and one Western observer—Roger Goodman, Oxford University’s Nissan Professor of Modern Japanese Studies. The meetings were sponsored by the National Museum of Ethnology in Osaka in late 2003. Professor Tanabe—esteemed, longtime scholar of Thai society and culture and then working for the museum— convened the symposium. With the backing of Otani University in Kyoto, where he now teaches, Tanabe was able to bring the symposium papers (with two additions) into the public domain. This book is no easy read and is most unlikely to generate much passion beyond the ranks of academic social scientists. Nonetheless it is a significant work for two principal reasons: first, because the four chapters by Thai scholars provide an important insight into the direction that some indigenous ethnographic research in Thailand is now taking; and second, because the book presents such a very different image of the ethnographic enterprise than that of yesteryear. (This reviewer intentionally avoids judgmental characterizations such as “better”, “more important” or “more interesting”.) Its six chapters consist of: “Family and Children in Thailand” (not

281

family and children in X location or among Y people but in Thailand), by Thanes Wongyannava; “The Sisa Asoke Community [of the Santi Asoke Buddhist reform sect] in Si Sa Ket Province”, by Kanoksak Kaewthep; “The Ta-la-ku [Karen] Community along the Thai Myanmar Border”, by Kwanchewan Buadaeng; “Vendors and Small Entrepreneurs in the Chiang Mai Night Bazaar”, by Apinya Fuengfusakul; “Northern Thai Factory Women”,­ by Kyonosuke Hirai; and, “HIV/ AIDS Self-Help Groups in Northern Thailand”, by the editor himself. Only Dr. Kwanchewan’s contribution seems to represent an unbroken continuity from the research of decades past. Gone, for the most part, are the old, finely wrought descriptions of traditional social institutions, most commonly based on long-time residence in a single, more-often-than-not rural community. For Roger Goodman (p. 190), such studies offered “a very static …view of … [society]”; their approach was “relatively ahistorical and they tended to treat societies as isolated units.” But is not Goodman here simply repeating, mantra fashion, worn-out charges against mid-twentieth century structural functionalism, rather than offering a valid critique of ethnographic research in Thailand over the past 60 years?—before that, there wasn’t much anyway. To refute Goodman’s observation, so many anthropologists of the senior generation who have worked in Thailand—scholars like Barend Terwiel, S. J. Tambiah, Jeremy Kemp, William Skinner (and there are a

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

282

Reviews

host more)—have so readily and easily moved between ethnography and history in their publications. Most of the earlier ethnographic-based works did indeed tend to focus—initially at least—on traditional socio-cultural institutions and how they constrained individual social behaviour and thought (again see Goodman on p. 191 of the work under review). Therefore, in so far as the majority of the authors in this book seek to demonstrate, in Goodman’s words, “how the individual constructs, changes, and legitimates the idea of society”, Imagining Communities in Thailand is welcome as an alternative perspective. The theoretical position that holds the chapters of this book together (and provides also its title) represents an adaptation of the ideas of American political scientist Benedict Anderson, whose principal case study is Indonesia, to sub-national communities: the family (chapter 1), the religious sect (chapters 2 & 3), persons sharing a common occupation (chapters 4 & 5)—even a common ailment (chapter 6). Anderson defines a nation as a political community whose citizens “imagine” their common membership of a sovereign and limited entity, without the necessity (or even possibility) of interacting with one another on a day-today, face-to-face basis, as is (or, better, was) the situation in so many of the traditional communities that have been studied by social anthropologists—and, of course, it is the individual, not the collectivity (pace Durkheim) that does the imagining.

To return to Roger Goodman (p. 190): “While the state and/or its agents (big business, newspapers, the bureaucracy) can try to control the key cultural symbols and legitimize their meanings, these will always be susceptible to change. It is this concept of change and challenge that is meant by invoking the active form imagining … in the title of this volume [emphasis added]”, in contrast to Anderson’s use of the “passive form, imagined” for his own book. The volume, as noted earlier, is a hard read; but it has been admirably edited and published by Mekong Press (a subsidiary of Silkworm Books) of Chiang Mai, to whom, along with the editor Professor Tanabe, we owe gratitude for making this collection available in the public domain.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Anthony R. Walker

Reviews

Christophe Munier and Myint Aung, Burmese Buddhist Murals, Volume 1: Epigraphic Corpus of the Powin Taung Caves. Bangkok: White Lotus Press, 2007. 524 pp. Paperbound: isbn 978974-480-127-2 The Powin Taung caves are a series of Buddhist rock-hewn excavations near Mandalay, west of the Chindwin River and about 30 kilometres from the city of Monywa in Upper Burma. There are roughly 500 caves, only 29 of which retain their mural paintings, with their original Burmese captions. They are amply illustrated in this tome by Christophe Munier and Myint Aung with nearly 400 black-and-white and 90 colour photographs. According to the authors, only a handful of dated, painted inscriptions have been found, all belonging to the second half of the 18th century—the early Konbaung Period (1752–1885). The authors note that the style of much of the painting suggests, however, that many of the caves were completed in the first half of the 18th century. Powin Taung has enjoyed a long history in the secondary literature, noted perhaps first by Taw Sein Ko (1901) and later more systematically by Charles Duroiselle (1920) in an Annual Report, Archaeological Survey of India. The latter publication put the caves on the map of significant sites, although Powin Taung remained fairly inaccessible until the early 1990s, largely because the area was off-limits to foreigners until then. Lately, however, package-tour groups from abroad have come to share Powin

283

Taung with a colony of aggressive monkeys that have reproduced there for generations. Added to this mix is an ever increasing number of devotees from Monywa and Mandalay, a journey facilitated by a bridge spanning the Chindwin above Monywa. As donations have grown, so too have the number of local shops and monasteries. Munier and Myint Aung have collaborated to produce this splendid new monograph on Powin Taung, a study that focuses on the hundreds of Burmese explanatory captions placed beneath the horizontal registers of mural painting. Munier is a long-time student of Burmese who has researched the caves for many years, while Myint Aung belongs to a select group of dedicated senior government officers who witnessed the decline of the Department of Archaeology during the Ne Win era. Now semi-retired, Myint Aung has devoted himself to scholarly projects. The disposition of the caves is indicated on a handy site plan, with each excavation assigned a number. While the principal caves are known locally by popular names, the new numbering system formulated here is likely to become the standard. This volume follows upon the heels of another book on Powin Taung, by Anne-May Chew, issued by White Lotus in 2005: The Cave-temples of Po Win Taung, Central Burma: Architecture, Sculpture and Murals. While the primary focus of Munier and Myint Aung is the murals and the captions, the authors perhaps should have explained in their

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

284

Reviews

introduction how their study is dissimilar from the earlier one and whether their basic conclusions differ from Chew’s, if at all. Chew, for example, refers to a number of dated 18th-century stone and painted inscriptions that are omitted in the volume under review (Chew, pp. 14–17). Also, it is difficult to crossreference the two books, since Chew adopted only the popular names of the caves, while Munier and Myint Aung fashioned a new numbering system that makes no reference to the popular names. (Pierre Pichard’s celebrated Inventory of Monuments at Pagan has, for example, a list of the old names used in Pe Maung Tin and Gordon H. Luce’s translation of the Glass Palace Chronicle of the Kings of Burma [of 1923] which are crossreferenced with the numbering system used in the Inventory). Perhaps the most useful section of the book is chapter 11 (‘Epigraphic corpus: Complete texts of the captioned murals and their translations’), which takes up more than one third of the entire volume (pp. 138–374). A ground plan of each cave is presented, complete with invaluable diagrams of the inner walls and the exact positions of the various subjects depicted in the murals. All of the captions are presented in Burmese characters, together with English translations. Such raw data are certainly the most valuable part of this volume. The subjects of the paintings were rather constant and included the 28 Buddhas, key episodes from the life of the Buddha, the Seven Weeks, and the last 10 jataka tales (all but the Sama

Jataka) and the Eight Great Victories. The list of last 10 jataka (pp. 93–94) was taken from the Sri Lankan Pali canon, while the order depicted in the caves follows the Burmese sequencing, which is slightly different. (The same Burmese system is found at Pagan and Thaton.) For example, the Vidhura Jataka is No. 9 in the Burmese sequence but is No. 8 in the Sinhalese Pali version. There is no discussion of the Burmese ordering which may confuse some readers who are comparing the list of jataka to the sequencing found in the caves. Artists probably completed the murals before the captions were painted beneath the scenes on long, narrow, horizontal registers. The present reviewer has come to this conclusion because the wording of a number of inscriptions includes small and unusual details featured in the paintings. For example, the caption beneath a depiction of Dipankara in cave No. 281 reads: ‘The Bodhisatta Dipankara lives in Rammavati kingdom, in the queen’s palace. The Indian gatekeeper is smoking. The Bodhisatta Dipankara leaves for the forest on an elephant’ (p. 39). Since the episode of the Indian gatekeeper was not likely part of the Burmese religious text from which the information was drawn, the artists must have included extra elements that were later spotted by those applying the captions. This reviewer’s tentative conclusion hints at the flexibility that artists enjoyed—and is testimony to the need for recording such additional descriptions in the captions. Perhaps future comparisons with other 18thcentury painting can determine precisely

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Reviews

the ways in which the artists executed their work. Readers interested in Buddhist life in the 18th century will find in the captions and paintings a treasure trove. For instance, depicted on the ceiling of cave No. 284 are the four legendary stupas that enshrine the Buddha’s tooth relics, each identified by an inscription. That their locations differ somewhat from those of the relics in the Glass Palace Chronicle is noteworthy. Another example is a reference to the Eight Great Victories in one inscription, dated 1761, from another painting site in Upper Burma. These eight episodes are ubiquitously represented together in 20th-century Burmese pagodas and the inscription is probably among the earliest dated records of this theme; this set of eight was likely borrowed from Sri Lanka at probably about this same time. Such examples are just some of the gems of information revealed by the texts beneath the paintings. While the captions are the focus of the book, the volume contains a number of references to comparable murals in Upper Burma in terms of style and iconography. Those observations, sprinkled throughout the book, might have profitably been compiled in a single section where the broad topics of chronology and styles in Upper Burma could be viewed in a systematic fashion. Comparisons between the Powin Taung caves and securely dated murals in Upper Burma would help place the cave murals in a tighter context. Many questions remain, such as the extent to which the Powin Taung murals represent

285

provincial work in the lower Chindwin area or reflect styles or variants that flourished in the Ava-Amarapura area or the Pagan region. Powin Taung straddles numerous contemporaneous painting sites in proximity to the lower Chindwin, such as Aneint, Mau, Yesago and Pakhangyi, many of which Alexandra Green has done much to uncover. The authors state that much of the painting is pre-Konbaung, which is almost certain, but a closer probe of the issue would have contributed to a better sense of how the site evolved throughout the 18th century. The authors conclude by promising that three future volumes will be devoted to ‘different styles, comparative iconography, religious themes and daily life as portrayed in the murals from the late 17th to the mid-19th century’ (p. 378). Many unresolved art-historical questions will surely be explored in the forthcoming works. The present volume with its meticulous recording of the paintings and inscriptions at one important site should serve as a model for future projects. Indeed, this volume is indispensible for those interested in later Burmese painting. Art historians of Burma owe a substantial debt of gratitude to Munier and Myint Aung for their contribution and to White Lotus for publishing such a significant and pioneering study.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Donald A. Stadtner

288

Obituaries

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

289

OBITUARIES Thanpuying Lursakdi Sampatisiri 1919–2010

Thanpuying Lursakdi was one of the most prominent persons of the post-SecondWorld-War Bangkok elite who never forgot, thanks to her enterprising father’s coaching, that with privilege comes obligations to help those less fortunate. Nai Lert Sresthaputra, her father, was a highly successful entrepreneur whose business interests covered transport (his White Bus Company was still going strong in the 1960s, as was the White Boat Company), refrigeration (local ice factories obviated the need to import ice from Singapore), and real estate, mostly within the Nai Lert Group, founded in 1894. He sold the land on which the British Embassy now stands and, according to hearsay, offered the British government the whole block running back to Saensap Canal, a much larger piece which they didn’t take, indicating the extent of his properties. Nai Lert also planned carefully his daughter’s education and career. Lursakdi was sent to Japan to study home economics in Tokyo (1938–1941). She then worked in the Thai Civil Service Commission (1941–1944), learning how the Government functioned. Nai Lert died suddenly when Lursakdi was 27, whereupon his only child was tipped into running the huge family business. This she did with the same acumen as her father. The group came to include what is now the prestigious Swissotel Nai Lert Park. Thanpuying Lursakdi married in 1930 Khun Binich Sampatisiri, who worked in the Fine Arts Department in the Ministry of Education. The couple had two daughters, Bilaibhan and Sanhapit. Thanpuying became ever more prominent in business circles and moved into political circles as well. She was invited to become Minister of Transport, after the nationalisation of the Bangkok bus companies, by the then Prime Minister, Thanin Kraivixien. She thus became the first woman minister in Thailand in 1976, paving the way for the further involvement of women in business as well as politics. Thanpuying became closely involved in charities, notably in the foundation and expansion of the Lerdsin Hospital, named after her mother, Khunying Sinn, and its concomitant Lerd-Sinn Foundation. She was a strong supporter of art and artists. She received several decorations for her considerable charity work. Her gardening interests found outlet in working with a United-Nations–sponsored foundation charged with nature conservation and environmental protection. Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

290

Obituaries

She was a most gracious hostess besides being a perceptive entrepreneur. The author of this notice can remember a most pleasant evening at a dinner party in the old wooden family house in the early 1960s, when Khun Binich and Lursakdi (then perhaps just a khunying) received and delighted their guests with a mixture of tales of yore and the unrecorded present. Thanpuying Lursakdi joined the Siam Society in 1962 and participated in many study trips, lectures and special events. As a loyal and concerned member she made significant donations in support of the Society’s activities. She was one of the first to visit the site after the fire on 20 November 2009 and made the very first contribution to the Rebuilding Fund. Thanpuying and her family made donations to help build the Society’s auditorium and the Chalerm Phrakiat Building. She helped fund the Society’s textile project and the publication of The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, among other projects. She gave her support to fund-raising social occasions that brought members together for a good cause. Whenever the Society approached her for help, she always obliged. Thanpuying Lursakdi will be long remembered and much missed.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Obituaries

291

Yoneo Ishii 1929–2010

My wife Jane and I first met sensei or ajarn Ishii in 1962, not long after we had arrived in Thailand. Ajarn Ishii was then working at the Japanese Embassy. We all were on a trip to Kanchanaburi organized by the Siam Society. I heard him speaking in Thai with others and assumed he was Thai. After my fumbling attempts to converse with him in Thai, he shifted to impeccable English and I learned that he was actually Japanese. At that first meeting he told us he had spent some time as a Buddhist monk and was planning to leave the Japanese diplomatic service to become a scholar. From that very first meeting, I knew that Ajarn Ishii was the model of the student of Thailand that I hoped to become. We met next in Japan in 1967 after he had joined the Institute for Southeast Asian Studies at Kyoto. He, together with Dr. Koichi Mizuno—whom we had also met when he, like Jane and me, was engaged in ethnographic research in northeastern Thailand—arranged for us to visit Kyoto. I still recall answering the phone in our hotel room shortly after we arrived and hearing fluent Thai spoken. I wondered what Thai who knew me was in Kyoto—but, again, it was Ajarn Ishii. As I began my own scholarly career, I recognized even more that Ajarn Ishii was a truly exceptional scholar. Although I have not been able to read the large number of works he published in Japanese (for a discussion of this work in English, see the posting on H-ASIA by Dr. Junko Koizumi of the Center for Southeast Asian Studies, Kyoto University), but I have avidly read much of that which he published in English and some of what he published in Thai as well. Although he identified himself as an historian, he also contributed to the anthropology and sociology of Thailand. Over the years, I have found myself often re-reading his essays on Buddhism and society such as those collected in Sangha, State, and Society: Thai Buddhism in History (1986). After Ajarn Mizuno died way too young of cancer, Ajarn Ishii oversaw the continuation of Mizuno’s research in Ban Don Du, Khon Kaen province. The volume he edited, Thailand: A Rice-Growing Village, published in English as well as in Japanese, remains a seminal work on understanding the transformation of rural northeastern Thailand. I personally observed him interact easily with villagers in Ban Don Du and also was present when he held a conversation with Princess Sirindhorn using rajasap, the royal language. I learned with deep admiration that he was the interpreter for the Japanese Emperor many years ago when the King and Queen visited Japan. Ajarn Ishii was able to move easily in all strata of Thai society. In February 2008 Khun Vasana Chinvarakorn of the Bangkok Post published a long article based on an interview with Ajarn Ishii. She noted that he “is a truly Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

292

Obituaries

learned man but one who is also full of humility and diplomacy when dealing with others.” After Ajarn Ishii passed away in February 2010, Ajarn Chalong Soontravanich at Chulalongkorn University joined with others in organizing a memorial for him. Like those who spoke at that memorial, I also wish to express my great debt to him for providing a model for being a student of Thai culture and history. Although Ajarn Ishii has left behind his mortal remains, his karmic legacy will continue to have very positive influences on generations of scholars of Thailand to come. Charles Keyes

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Obituaries

293

Constance Wilson 1937–2010

Constance M. Wilson, 72, passed away on 17 February 2010, at Maine Medical Center in Portland, Maine, USA. A New England girl, she was born on 7 October 1937 in Blackstone, Massachusetts, a daughter of Robert W. and Eleanor L. (Nichols) Wilson. She attended local schools and graduated from The Lincoln School, Providence, Rhode Island. Constance earned her bachelor’s degree from Swarthmore College in 1959 and received her doctorate in Thai history from Cornell University in 1970. She was a classmate of the late David Wyatt, who also specialized in the history of Thailand. Constance’s dissertation, “State and Society in the Reign of Mongkut, 1851–1868: Thailand on the Eve of Modernization,” with its 1,100 pages of exquisite detail, remains one of the defining works on the socio-economic history of Siam in the mid-19th century. Following the completion of her doctorate, she continued to pursue pioneering work on Thai economic and demographic history. She was senior editor of Thailand: A Handbook of Historical Statistics (1983) and the volume, Royalty and Commoners: Essays in Thai Administrative, Economic, and Social History (1980). Charles Keyes, another Cornell classmate, considers both to be foundational works for the study of late pre-modern Siamese history. In the 1980s, she undertook a new project on the study of history of the Thailand–Burma–Yunnan frontier. She was senior editor of two volumes resulting from this research: The Burma–Thailand Frontier over Sixteen Decades: Three Descriptive Documents (1985, with Lucien M. Hanks) and The Middle Mekong River Basin: Studies in Tai history and Culture (2009). Constance came to Northern Illinois University (NIU) in 1967 after an initial year of teaching at San Francisco State University that she reportedly did not find congenial. She was encouraged to move to NIU by then-Chair of the NIU Department of History, Emory Evans and a newly minted Asian history PhD from the University of California at Berkeley, George Spencer, who became her closest colleague and confidant, and later became department chair. George had the following to say about her in his recent recollections. She did indeed find a niche for herself at NIU, developing a remarkable range of Southeast Asian history courses and helping to enrich Northern’s growing Southeast Asia program until her 2003 retirement and subsequent move to Seattle. In the early 1970s, when the NIU Department of History suffered a catastrophic decline of enrollment and majors (plunging from roughly a thousand majors to slightly over a hundred, a 90-percent decline within roughly Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

294

Obituaries

three years, due in part to curriculum changes in the university), the department Chair at the time, Carroll Moody, informed the three Asia specialists (including James Shirley, in Chinese history) that in order to save the Asian history program and our jobs, we would each have to teach a large section of American history (either before or after 1865, our choice) each semester as part of our normal teaching load, along with courses in our respective specialties. I regarded teaching “American History to 1865” as an interesting challenge. Constance, who was the most traumatized by this news, reluctantly agreed to teach “American History Since 1865” (in which she had little training), but characteristically did it her way, as an Asia-centric foreign policy course. Predictably, a large part of the course was devoted, to the dismay of many undergraduates, to the Vietnam War, taught from a Vietnamese (and her own Quaker) point of view! After about a decade, Asian history enrollments—and history enrollments generally—revived, and the Asia historians no longer had to teach courses on the exotic West. Far more than any other NIU historian, Constance routinely subsidized her research out of her own pocket rather than undertake the hassle (and possible disappointment of rejection) of applying for research grants. She was also an intrepid traveler, journeying anywhere from the tropical lowlands of Southeast Asia to the stark highlands of Tibet. Although never in robust health, she was not to be deterred in visiting remote parts of the world. An enthusiastic (but not uncritical) devotee of art and music (especially opera and ballet) and a strong supporter of libraries and museums, Constance in retirement provided to her distant friends (by e-mail) detailed descriptions of the many cultural events that she attended in Seattle. When she moved to Portland, Maine in 2009 to be near her ill, widowed mother (not realizing that she herself would soon be terminally ill), she lamented the relative paucity of cultural events there, but made the best of what was available. Nature was not entirely kind to Constance. She was born with a malformed right hand of 3 digits and a kind of scoliosis of the right shoulder that became more pronounced as she aged. That might have been one reason why she never drove a car; or maybe she simply decided she didn’t need or want one. She was instead a great walker and hiker, moving slowly but deliberately in a posture that reflected her well-paced research and publication mode—day by planned day. Her Maine blood doubtlessly steeled her to the harsh winters of DeKalb; she could be seen Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

295

Obituaries

making her way from her apartment to campus office some 4–5 blocks away on the most blustery of days, bundled up in an oversized parka and booted up with footwear tested by use and time. But her physical deformity failed to deter her from writing steadily by hand, or pecking out pages on a typewriter, and eventually moving up to using a computer—the latter for her data compilation and analysis and manuscript preparation. She began with the dawn of computer punch cards and something called “SuperWylbur” at NIU and struggled to convert her data to Microsoft as time moved on.

Shortly before she died, Constance orally bequeathed her scholarly papers and books to Northern Illinois University, a sign of her true affection for the institution she served so well. I came to know most of her graduate students and some of the exchanges between her and them from both sides. She was determined to make “critical thinkers” of her students from Thailand who had, by and large, learned by rote memory, which, in at least one instance tilted in the direction of what she considered plagiarized papers. From her students I learned that she tracked down their references and quotations by going to the actual source they used to make sure they met professional standards. In her own work, which I observed from the manuscript preparation of her last book, I could see that she checked and rechecked every line and citation of her own scholarship up to the day it was sent to the printer. She had the mind of a historian and was guided by the ethics of the best of her profession and the conviction of her Quaker roots. She quietly opposed the war in Vietnam on both historical and religious grounds. As things often turn in circles, there is a poignant irony in her description to the course on the Vietnam War that she was set to teach in March of 2010, namely that it was “not a military history.” And there was also her final worry that, in the event that should she not be well enough to teach the course herself, that it should not fall into the hands of a “facilitator [who] could misuse the materials if he/she were particularly anti-Communist.” Well, nature intervened once more and visited her with untreatable cancer of the liver. She lived only a few weeks after diagnosis, having the last word in her own history by deciding against any life-extending treatments. Her legacy lives on in those who knew her, succeeding generations of students of Thai history who follow her, and in her gift of an extensive collection of books and articles she leaves to Northern Illinois University Founders Library. John Hartmann

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

296

Obituaries

Hans Penth 1937–2009

Hans Penth was born in Berlin, Germany on 6 May 1937. In 1964, he earned his doctorate at Frankfurt University in the languages and history of Southeast Asia, with additional studies in Chinese and ethnology. His thesis was a translation and cultural-historical analysis of a part of the Sumatra chronicle of Hikajat Atjeh and was printed in German as a book in 1969. Soon after, he came to Thailand. From 1965 until 1970, Hans studied old Lan Na Thai chronicles under the abbot of Wat Phan Tao in Chiang Mai. He settled in Chiang Mai as a philologisthistorian specialising in northern Thai history, and married a Thai professor in the French Language Department of Chiang Mai University. From 1970 to 1980, Hans researched Lan Na Thai historical documents at the Faculty of Social Sciences, Chiang Mai University. In 1981 he became “Foreign Expert” at the newly established Social Research Institute, Archive of Lan Na Thai Inscriptions where he served until 1997. Hans retired at the age of 60 years and was nominated Honorary Member of the Siam Society in 1997, being a close associate of Her Royal Highness Princess Galyani Vadhana, the elder sister of His Majesty the King of Thailand. Needless to say, Hans continued to work as a “temporary employee” and was charged with research on Lan Na Thai history, in particular the publication of microfilmed inscriptions. Lan Na Thai is the name of a conglomerate of city-states that covered roughly the area of modern northern Thailand between the 13th and 16th centuries. Mostly under the leadership of the city-state of Chiang Mai, Lan Na influence reached far into neighbouring regions, covering parts of present-day Myanmar, the Lao People’s Democratic Republic and the southern part of China. Dr. Hans Penth has to his credit over 100 scholarly publications, including the Jinakalamali index. In his lectures and writings, he emphasised culture and everyday life in Lan Na Thai. After such hard work that sadly was never fully recognised in the ivory tower of Thai studies in Germany, Hans succumbed to brain cancer after a long struggle at the Suan Dok Hospital in Chiang Mai. He has passed away on Wednesday, 17 June 2009 at the age of 72. Buddhist funeral ceremonies were held at Wat Suan Dok, Chiang Mai. The cremation was held on Sunday, 21 June. His wife Nengnoi and son Bernhard survive him. May Hans rest in peace! Reinhard Hohler

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

286

Books received for review Natasha Eilenberg and Robert L. Brown, translators and editors Studies on the Art of Ancient Cambodia: Ten Articles by Jean Boisselier Phnom Penh: Reyum Publishing, 2008 Paperbound: isbn 978 999 5055 38 7 Alan Johnson Leadership in a Slum: A Bangkok Case Study Regnum Studies in Mission Oxford: Regnum Books International, 2009 Paperbound: isbn 978 1 870345 71 2 Viliam Phraxayavong History of Aid to Laos: Motivations and Impacts Chiang Mai: Mekong Press, 2009 Hardbound: isbn 978 611 90053 0 3

Andrew Ranard Burmese Painting: A Linear and Lateral History Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2009 Clothbound: isbn 978 974 9511 76 3

Vinh Sinh, editor and translator Phan Châu Trinh and His Political Writings Studies on Southeast Asia 49 Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2009 Paperbound: isbn 978 0 87727 749 1

Peter Skilling, author and Claudio Cicuzza, editor  Buddhism and Buddhist Literature of South-East Asia: Selected Papers  Materials for the Study of the Tripitaka, Volume V Bangkok and Lumbini: Fragile Palm Leaves Foundation, 2009 isbn 978-974-660-104-7

Donald K. Swearer The Buddhist World of Southeast Asia [2nd ed.] Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books and State University of New York Press, 2009 Paperbound: isbn 978 974 9511 60 2 Sean Turnell Fiery Dragons: Banks, Moneylenders and Microfinance in Burma NIAS Monograph Series 114, Nordic Institute of Asian Studies Copenhagen: NIAS Press, 2009 Paperbound: isbn 978 87 7694 040 9 Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

Received for Review

Gerry van Klinken and Joshua Barker, editors State of Authority: The State in Society in Indonesia Studies on Southeast Asia 50 Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2009 Paperbound: isbn 978 0 87727 750 7

287

Klaus Wille Sanskrithandschriften aus den turfanfunden Tiel 10 die Katalognummern 3200–4362 Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2008 Clothbound: isbn 978 3 515 092 57 9

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

297

Contributors to this issue Chris Baker taught Asian history and politics at Cambridge University before coming to reside in Thailand in 1979. With Pasuk Phongpaichit, he has written numerous books on Thailand, including the Cambridge A History of Thailand. Together they translated into English and edited the Siamese epic The Tale of Khun Chang Khun Phaen, published this year. Kennon Breazeale is projects coordinator at the East–West Center in Honolulu and honorary publications chairman of the Center for Southeast Asian Studies, University of Hawai’i. His most recent books are A Biography of King Naresuan the Great (a translation of the Thai original by Prince Damrong) and The Writings of Prince Damrong Rajanubhab: A Chronology with Annotations (both 2008, published by Toyota Thailand Foundation and Textbooks Foundation). Bonnie Pacala Brereton divides her time between Chiang Mai and Khon Kaen, Thailand, where she is affiliated with the Center for Research on Plurality in the Mekong Region, Khon Kaen University. She holds a doctorate in Buddhist studies and master’s degrees in Southeast Asian studies and Asian art history from the University of Michigan. She is the co-author, along with Somroay

Yencheuy, of Buddhist Murals of Northeast Thailand: Reflections of the Isan Heartland, published this year by Silkworm Books. Thomas Enters is a regional program officer with the United Nations Environment Programme, based in Bangkok. He has lived in Southeast Asia for the past 17 years and was until recently program manager at the Center for People and Forests (RECOFTC) in Bangkok, working on regional forestry policy issues. His current responsibilities center on forest-related, climatechange mitigation efforts, especially in Indonesia and Viet Nam. Jean-Pierre Gaston-Aubert a graduate of Institut national de langues et civilisations orientales (INALCO) at Université Paris III–Sorbonne Nouvelle, has studied Thai history and literature at Thammasat University and ancient scripts and archeology at Silpakorn University, Bangkok, where he has also been a guest lecturer. He has participated in archeological projects in Thailand and is investigating Buddhist iconography of the Bàyon period in Cambodia. His research is concentrated on impacts of Indian religions and iconography in ancient Southeast Asia. John Hartman is Presidential Teaching Professor in Thai language and linguistics at Northern Illinois University. He is cofounder of the Center for Lao Studies,

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

298

contributors to this issue

in San Francisco, and has developed a Web presence for Thai, Lao and minority Tai languages and cultures at www.seasite.niu.edu. His research centers on the origin and spread of Tai languages and patterning of Tai place names, employing GIS analysis. Laurent Hennequin has taught French at Silpakorn University, Nakhon Pathom campus since 1991. He earned his doctorate in Thai language and linguistics at Institut national des langues et civilisations orientales (INALCO) in Paris. His publications have concerned on French documents concerning Thailand and related archeological subjects, including French astronomical observations and maps of the 17th century, archeological surveys of Nakhon Pathom, and a comprehensive inventory of French documents on Thailand (2006). Holly High is a research associate in the Department of Anthropology, University of Cambridge. She specializes in everyday politics, poverty, development and aspirations in Laos. She is currently researching the changing relationships to resources in the south of Laos, including cultural, natural and human resources. Reinhard Hohler is a doctoral candidate in ethnology, geography and political science at the University of Heidelberg, Germany, studying the syncretism of the Lisu religion in northern Thailand. He has

lived in Chiang Mai since 1987. He reviews books and writes tourismrelated articles for journals, magazines and online services. Patrick Jory is an adjunct professor at the Center for International Studies, Ohio University. From January 2011 he will be a senior lecturer in Southeast Asian history at the University of Queensland. His research interest is in Thai cultural history. He is co-editor (with Michael J. Montesano) of Thai North, Malay South: Ethnic Interactions on a Plural Peninsula. Charles F. Keyes is Professor Emeritus of Anthropology and International Studies at the University of Washington, where he has mentored 40 doctoral students, one quarter of whom are Thai. He has long been affiliated with the Faculty of Social Science at Chiang Mai University and has received an honorary doctorate from Maha Sarakham University. Having authored or edited 14 publications and over 80 articles, he has embarked on a restudy of a village in northeastern Thailand where he and his wife Jane first conducted fieldwork in the early 1960s. Stephen A. Murphy is a doctoral candidate at the Department of Art and Archaeology, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London. His research has focused on Dvaravati-period sema stones in northeastern Thailand and central Laos,

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

contributors to this issue

and the development of early Buddhism in that region. He is currently a freelance editor for River Books and plans to publish his first book, Early Buddhism in Northeast Thailand and Central Laos: Archaeology, Art and Architecture of the 7th-12th centuries, in 2011 by River Books. Pimchanok Pongkasetkan is an archaeologist from Silpakorn University, Bangkok, whose master’s thesis was based on her work at Don Mae Nang Muang reported in these pages. She is a curator at the Southeast Asian Ceramics Museum, Bangkok University. Nicolas Revire a graduate of Université Paris III– Sorbonne Nouvelle, has been lecturer in French language at the Faculty of Liberal Arts, Thammasat University since 2003 and guest lecturer at the Faculty of Archaeology, Silpakorn University since 2008. His chief research interests concern Thai Buddhist art and archaeology. He has written articles and reviews on Dvâravatî art and is preparing a review article on the English translation of Pierre Dupont’s last (posthumous) publication in this field. Craig J. Reynolds is affiliated with the College of Asia and the Pacific at the Australian National University. He recently edited Early Southeast Asia: Selected Essays by O. W. Wolters (Cornell University Southeast Asia Program 2008). Current

299

projects include religion, banditry, and the environment in Thailand’s midsouth and ‘Craig’s book reviews’ on the New Mandala website. Michael Smithies was twice editor of Journal of the Siam Society (1969–1971 and 2003–2009) and is writer/editor of several current Society publication projects. After an academic career in Southeast Asia from 1960, he retired in 1992 from the United Nations in Bangkok. Among his recent publications is Witnesses to a Revolution: Siam 1688 (Siam Society). He was made Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres by the French government in 2006. Donald A. Stadtner was for many years an associate professor of art history at the University of Texas, Austin, after receiving his doctorate from the University of California, Berkeley. He is the author of Ancient Pagan: A Buddhist Plain of Merit (publ. 2005), Sacred Sites of Burma: Myth and Folklore in an Evolving Spiritual Realm (to be publ. 2011) and numerous articles. Martin Stuart-Fox is Professor Emeritus of the School of History, Philosophy, Religion and Classics of the University of Queensland, Australia. He is author of seven books on Laos, including the Cambridge History of Laos, of which Thai and Japanese translations have recently been published.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

300

contributors to this issue

John Tully is a lecturer in politics and history at Victoria University in Melbourne, Australia. He is the author of three books on Cambodian history, a social history of the rubber industry, and two novels. He wrote his doctoral thesis for Monash University on Cambodia during the reign of King Sisowath. Steve Van Beek is a freelance writer, photographer, filmmaker and tour leader who has published 23 books, 42 films and videos and hundreds of other media titles on life and travel in Asia. Edward Van Roy is a visiting research fellow at the Department of History and a visiting fellow at the Institute of Asian Studies, Chulalongkorn University. He has written articles on Bangkok’s Portuguese, Lao and Chinese communities and the rise and fall of Bangkok’s mandala structure (forthcoming), as well as the book Sampheng: Bangkok’s Chinatown Inside Out.

Anthony R. Walker is a professor of anthropology in the Department of Sociology and Anthropology, Universiti Brunei Darussalam and has taught at universities in Malaysia, Singapore, the United States and Fiji. As a member of the Institute of Social Anthropology, Oxford University, he conducted fieldwork among the Lahu people in the northern Thai uplands for four years from the mid-1960s. He is author/editor of books on upland north Thailand, Lahu religion, the Toda people of South India, Indians in Singapore, village life in Fiji and women in the Solomon Islands; and of Pika-Pika: The Flashing Firefly, a multidisciplinary collection of essays in honor of his late wife Pauline. Benny Widyono a career international civil servant, was the United Nations Secretary General’s Representative in Cambodia from 1994 to 1997. His brief there was to monitor and interpret developments following on the work of the United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC). He is the author of Dancing in Shadows: Sihanouk, the Khmer Rouge and the United Nations in Cambodia (NY: Rowman Littlefield, 2008).

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

301

Notes for Contributors The Journal of the Siam Society welcomes original articles and notes of a scholarly nature in conformity with the principles and objectives of the Siam Society, investigating the arts and sciences of Thailand and neighbouring countries. Articles Articles should be primarily in English, and must be accompanied by a ten-line abstract in English and a five-line biographical note about the author(s). The word length of the contribution must be given in a covering letter, supplying full postal and e-mail addresses, and the author(s) must confirm that the article has not been published elsewhere in any form, nor is currently under consideration for publication elsewhere. Articles submitted to JSS are subject to review by external referees. Typescripts should not normally exceed 7,000 words (including footnotes and references). One copy should be sent by e-mail (preferably as a Word document) and a hard copy should be posted, printed on one side of the paper only with double line spacing (preferably using 12 point Times New Roman font). Do not use a multiplicity of fonts, do not indent for paragraphs (leave a line blank) and do not give any right-hand alignment. Quotations of more than four lines should be indented.

Contributors using special fonts, such as for various Asian languages, should consult the editor in advance. References in the text should where possible use the form ‘(Jones 1970: 82)’ and full details should appear in the list of references at the end of the article. These references must be complete bibliographical entries and include the full name of the author(s), title, and publication data, including the place of publication, publisher, and date of publication (including the original date of publication if the item is a reprint). Titles of the books and periodicals should, of course, be italicized. Footnotes are to appear as such, not as end notes, and should be numbered consecutively. References to articles or books written in Thai should include the title in romanized Thai followed by a translation into English in parentheses. Romanization in general follows the system of the Royal Institute. If in doubt concerning form or how to reference non-standard sources, please consult the Chicago Manual of Style (most recent edition), or Hart’s rules for compositors and readers at OUP (most recent edition). If in doubt over spelling, use, as with the United Nations, the Concise Oxford Dictionary (most recent edition), taking the first entry where variants are allowed. Style

Each paper should follow a consistent form of dating, capitalization (to be kept to a minimum) and other aspects.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

302

notes for contributors

The style adapted should be appropriate for scholarly journals with an audience of specialists in a diversity of fields and nationalities; this said, jargon is to be avoided and articles should be readily comprehensible by non-specialists. Articles and reviews should avoid the use of the first person singular, numbers below 11 are written out, as are century numbers (e.g. ‘nineteenth century’) and First/Second World War. Date forms should be day–month– year, without contractions (e.g. ‘13 April 2007). Acronyms must always be spelt out when first used e.g. ‘National Economic and Social Development Board (NESDB)’. Measurements should be metric, not imperial. Non-native speakers of English are strongly advised to have their contributions checked by a native speaker before submission. Both British and American English variants are admitted, but an article must be internally consistent in the use of whichever is selected. Figures and illustrations Figures, site plans, maps, etc., should be drawn on strong paper, white card, or good quality tracing film, and suitably lettered for printing. They should measure approximately twice the intended final size, which should be indicated where possible. If these have been scanned or are computer-generated, then the appropriate disks should be sent indicating format, together with hard copy. Do not embed any graphics in the text on the disk or print-out, but

send them separately. A published fullpage illustration may not exceed 210 mm x 140 mm. Photographs should be printed on glossy paper and mounted on thin card. Figures, maps, and plates should be titled and numbered; originals should be numbered lightly on the back in pencil only. A list of captions to figures and plates must be provided on separate sheets. Authors must obtain approval, before submission, for the reproduction of illustrations or other material not their own. Redrawing or lettering of maps or figures cannot be undertaken by the Siam Society or the editor, who may omit or return sub-standard work for re-presentation. Illustrations to articles should be limited to a maximum of ten; many articles may need no accompanying visuals. The Siam Society and its editors stress that the safekeeping of illustrations is entirely the responsibility of contributors and the Society will not be held responsible for any loss or misplacement of visuals. Copies of illustrations must be retained by contributors until after the publication of the relevant article. Illustrations submitted will not be returned to contributors. Proofs and offprints Page proofs will be sent to authors if time allows. Authors are reminded that these are intended for checking, not re-writing: substantial changes to the text at this stage will result in the

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010

notes for contributors

contribution being rejected. Failure to return proofs by the required date may lead to substitution of the editor’s corrected proofs. One copy of the Journal and 20 offprints will be supplied free to authors on publication of the issue in which their contribution is included. Reviews Unsolicited book reviews are not normally accepted. Offers to write reviews should be directed to the Editor, Journal of the Siam Society. Reviews should normally be 1,000–2,000 words in length, written in English and supplied as a print-out and on disk with double spacing as for articles. Full bibliographic details about the book under review must be supplied, including ISNB, number of pages and price, if known.

303

Correspondence Typescripts, books for review, and all correspondence should be sent to The Editor, Journal of the Siam Society, 131 Sukhumwit Soi 21 (Asoke Montri), Bangkok 10110, Thailand. Tel. (662) 661 6470-7 Fax. (662) 258 3491 E-mail: [email protected] Subscription, membership enquiries and orders for publications should be addressed to Membership Services, at the address given above. Information about exchange copies of Siam Society periodicals may be obtained from the Honorary Librarian, at the address above.

Disclaimer and resolution of conflict The opinions expressed in the JSS are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the views of the Siam Society. The editor’s decision is final.

Journal of the Siam Society, Vol. 98, 2010