Journal of the Siam Society; 55


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Table of contents :
JSS_055_1a_Front
JSS_055_1b_MahaVajiravudh_NotesOnSiameseTheatre
JSS_055_1c_Casparis_DateOfGrahiBuddha
JSS_055_1d_Cowan_RoleOfPrinceChuthamaniInModernizingSiam
JSS_055_1e_Lebar_MovementOfKhmuIntoNorthThailand
JSS_055_1f_Solheim_PotteryManufactureNearLuangPrabang
JSS_055_1g_MoldsForBronzeCastingFoundInNortheasternThailand
JSS_055_1h_Miles_ShiftingCultivationAndSettlement
JSS_055_1i_Mulder_SociologyAndReligionInThailand
JSS_055_1j_Boeles_AncientCityCalledLavapura
JSS_055_1k_Reviews
JSS_055_1l_AccessionsToLibrary
JSS_055_1m_Back
JSS_055_2a_Front
JSS_055_2b_PhyaAnumanRajadhon_ThreadSquareInThailand
JSS_055_2c_KraisriNimmanhaeminda_LawaGuardianSpiritsOfChiengmai
JSS_055_2d_ThamsookNumnonda_NegotiationsRegardinCessionOfSiameseMalayStates
JSS_055_2e_WatsonLoofs_ThaiBritishArchaeologicalExpedition
JSS_055_2f_Mulder_StructuralAnalysisOfThaiPeasantVillages
JSS_055_2g_Wyatt_ThaiKataManidiarapalaAndMalacca
JSS_055_2h_Penth_ZurSiamEpisodeInHikajatAtjeh
JSS_055_2i_Boeles_ToponymyOfAncientKantoli
JSS_055_2j_Reviews
JSS_055_2k_AnnualReport
JSS_055_2l_Back
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Journal of the Siam Society; 55

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VOLUME LV Part 1

January 1967

THE

JOU NAL OF THE

I M

(J ss)

Cl

BANGKOK

2510

y

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED THE SIAM SOCIETY JANUARY 1967

The Journal of the Siam Society Contents o/ Volume LV Part I January 1967 Articles Maha Vajiravudh J.G. de Casparis William L. Cowan Frank f'-1. LeBar

Page

Notes on the Siamese Theatre The Date of the Grahi Buddha The Role of Prince Chuthamani in the Thfodernizing of Siam Observations on the Movement of Khmu 9 into North Thailand

1 31

41

61

Notes and Comments Wilhelm G. Solheim II Wilhelm G. Solheim II Douglas Miles J.A.N. Mulder J.J. Boeles

Notes on Pottery Manufacture near Luang Prabang, Laos Molds for Bronze Casting found in Northeastern Thailand A Note on Shifting Cultivatio11 and Settlement Sociology and Religion in Thailand: A Critique A Note on the Ancient City Cdlled Lavapura

81

87 93

101

113

Book Reviews Robert Exell Donald Sweetbaum William A. Smalley

The Pfi#mokkha : 227 Fundamental Rules of a Bhikkhu The Wisdom Gone Beyond Brown, J. Marvin, From Ancient Thai to Modern Dialects

Recent Siamese P11blications : 354.

H.M.

117

122

124

D.

Pra Pinklao

131

355. Nadi:dhip, His late Royal Highness Krompra: The Establishment of the Dhammayutika School of Monasticism

132

356. Visuddhimagga

133

357.

358. 359. 360. 361.

Disapovs-anusorn Wat Rajasiddhar'am, History of DamrO!J, His late Royal Highness Kromapraya: Seeing Burma Anuman Rajadhon, Som~ai: Thai Diplomatic Relations in Ayudhya Anuman Rajadhon, Praya: Gazetteer of Thai Provinces

Accessio11s to the Siam Society's Library

135 135 137 139 141

143

NOTES ON THE SIAMESE THEATRE by

Mahii Vajiravudh WITH A BRIEF INTRODUCTION by

H.H. Prince Dhaninivat, Kromamun Bidyalabh

The commentary by His late Majesty King Rama VI on the Theatre of Siam, published as Group XIV in Siam and its Productions, Arts) and Munufactures; a Descriptive Catalogue of the Siamese Section at the International Exhibition of Industry and Labour held in Turin April

29-November 19, 1917 edited by Colonel Gerini, classified contemporary entertainments into five types: the Like, the Hun, the Nav, the Lagor and the Khan. The Like, derived from some kind of Islamic recitation, had been popularised, losing its original purport of religion and becoming merely a parody of the more dignified and graceful Lagor. The Hun was at the time of the King's writing, and very much more so now, almost non-existant. It survived in a simplified form of the Hun Krabok (cylindrical marionettes) with a contemporary repertoire to suit the more popular taste as the Nora of the Peninsula resorts now to topics of present-day happenings: as the coup d'etat of 1932 with its leader represented as a clown. The Nav proper has almost disappeared, though like the Hun it survives in name through the southern variety called Na,.,:; Taluv which bears no resemblance to its classical prototype save that it too is exhibited on a screen. The royal author went on to describe the Lagor and the Khan which he rightly considered as the legitimate drama. The material here has been carefully studied and so well presented that there is hardly anything to add or improve upon.

When the King wrote,

however, it was still commonly assumed that our Ramakien had been derived from Valmiki's Ramayana. Since, much additional research

2

Mahii Vajiriivudh

has led to a general agreement among scholars that the epic of Rama, the Indian hero, predates even the forming of the Sanskrit classicas evidenced by its comparatively cruder material.

In its peregrina-

tion through Indonesia and Malaya it acquired many episodes of local myths and semihistorical data and also the Sanskrit byetales found in what came to be written as the mediaeval Sanskrit dramas, such as the Uttara-Ramacarita and the screen text of Hanuman-nataka. What the King wrote with such distinctive scholarship was an attempt to trace our story of Rama to the classic Ramayana of Valmiki. That he must have studied all that was available at the time is apparent from his catalogue of the Ramakien characters.

Except for mis-

direction, then, the commentary may be regarded as reliable and a good summary of atl that was known then of Siamese dramatics.

D. Bangkok, 14 November 1966

THE

SIAMESE THEATRE

3

NOTES ON THE SIAMESE THEATRE There are, at the present time, many forms of entertainments in Siam. Barring such as have frankly been adopted from Europe in recent years, there still remain many others which may be considered indigenous, and may be classified as follows:1. The kh8n or masked drama.

2. The lagor (commonly written lakhon) or ordinary drama: 3. The like. 4. The Mn or mai'ionettes; 5. The nang or transparencies. These, with the exception of the like, are the genuine ancient forms of Siamese entertainment. Of these by far the most interesting and most worthy of consideration are the khDn and the lagor, which will therefore be a little more fully treated later on. The rest may be dismissed in a few words.

Like.- The like is the form of entertainment now roost regularly presented. Its origin is curious. It was at first merely a form of religious worship, indulged in by a certain section of Mul:mmmadan Malays, and in no way resembled the form which is to be seen at the present day. In the original like devotees or dervishes were seated in a ring, and chanted certain prayers or hymns to the accompaniment of tom-toms or large tambourine-like drums called ramana. Occasionally there were solos. Later, the irreverent amongst the Malays improved upon the original like by interlarding jokes into the solos. The Siamese, seeing the humorous side of the affair, began to imitate the like performance. This was how the like obtained its footing as a form of secular entertainment. It went on developing, losing more and more of its original character, until it finally reached its present form, which is nothing more than a sort of parody of the more dignified and graceful lagor. The performers in the like, as now played, are for the most part clowns who sing and dance in a very indifferent manner, but as they generally contrive to be funny, in a sort of rough fashion, they are popular with a certain class of people who are not very discriminating in their taste.

Hun.-The him {literally 'model'), or 'marionettes', is very seldom seen nowadays, and in point of fact even when it is presented

4

Mahii Vajiriivudh

it seldom draws a good audience. Everything points to its being painfully out of date. The figures, however, are often genuine works of art, being carefully made, and correctly dressed in almost every detail. They are manipulated by means of a number of threads, concealed within the figures, and are pulled from below, not from above, as is the case with European marionettes. They are by no means easy to manipulate, and practically the only people who can do so are those belonging to the royal troupe. The plays represented are mostly classical dramas, which, if anything, further tends towards the hun's want of favour among present-day audiences. There is, however, a more popular form of him, known as hUn krabawk (literally 'cylindrical model'), which is a sort of Punch and Judy show, the figures being manipulated in the same manner as Punch and Judy figures. The plays represented by the him krabmok are usually of the lighter kind, and are therefore rather more popular than the legitimate hun. Nting.-The nimg (literally 'skin' or 'hide'), or transparencies, is a form of entertainment which still finds favour amongst a large section of the public, and such shows are often seen at the more important cremations. The transparencies are frequently real works of art. Figures are beautifully drawn and embossed upon pieces of skin and beautifully painted, so that they form perfect decorative pictures. They are each mounted on two sticks by which the transparent picture could be help up. A large screen of white sheet is fixed up with lights behind, and the transparencies are displayed against the screen, either from within or without. These pictures represent various characters in drama, principally figures in the RamaymJa. The words of the drama played are recited by a chorus, the transparencies being moved about in accordance with the words by men who are generally accomplished dancers, as they are required to dance while they move the pictures. The nang is certainly not a very exciting form of entertainment, but it is one to be enjoyed by those who do not mind taking their pleasures in a placid manner. There is, however, another kind of nang known as the nang talung (from the fact that they were originally played by the natives of Badalung or Talung). The figures of the

'l'Hl~

SIAMESE THEATRE

5

nang talung are smaller, and some are so constructed as to have one of the arms movable. They are on about the same level as the hiin krabawk, and are about as popular. All kinds of light drama are presented by the ntmg talung, the manipulators of which generally are themselves singers and comics, who often raise roars of laughter. The Drama

Having disposed of the miscellaneous entertainment, we may now come to the Drama proper. The Siamese theatre may be classified under two distinct typical heads, namely, the kMn and the lagor. These two types, though differing from one another, have many things in common, and these may be mentioned first. The Theatre where the l~hUn and lagor are performed is anything but an elaborate building. It possesses the beautiful simplicity of an ancient Greek theatre, only more simple still. Neither stage nor scenery is required, and very little stage furniture is used. The chief requirement is a clear space where the dances and actions can be performed adequately. A wide bench is provided at either end of the clear space to form a throne for the chief personages. When the scene is supposed to be a garden trees are placed at regular intervals about the arena, or when it is a bedroom scene a screen is placed somewhere as a conventional sign thereof, and so on.

Costumes and properties, however, are very elaborate, and are made as accurately as possible. The costumes are made to resemble those worn in Siam in the olden times, and have not changed during successive generations, because they have been found most picturesque and suitable. The costume for a royal personage consists of a pair of embroidered breeches, a loin cloth worn outside the breeches held in place by a broad sash, over which again is worn a jewelled belt; a tight-fitting jacket embroidered with gold, with large embroidered epaulettes, and a jewelled collar. Certain ornaments are worn across the breast, and bracelets, armlets, and rings are also worn; sometimes embroidered breast-pieces are donned to represent armour; a crown or coronet completes the costume. Other male personages are similarly, but less elaborately, arrayed. The costume for female characters

Maha Vajiriivudh

consists of a cloth worn like a skirt, reaching down well below the knee, with an embroidered scarf draped over the shoulder. For ornaments there is a jewelled collar, a necklet, bracelets, armlets; anklets, and rings. Queens or royal personages wear crowns or coronets; others have various kinds of head-dresses suitable to their rank and station. There is no attempt at making up the face, which is only thickly powdered. Those who play what may be termed 'character-parts', such as demons, monkeys, or yogis, wear distinctive masks of different colours and designs. The treatment of these masks is purely conventional, no attempt being made to have them life-like; but each mask is a good example of Siamese decorative art, and is distinctive and characteristic, so that each character may at once be recognized by the mask worn by the actor. A fuller description of these masks will be found in the latter part of this paper. All properties such as weapons, chariots, and so on, are very elaborately made. Animals, when they appear, are easily known by their masks. These animal masks are really very well made, and are sometimes quite true to nature. There is, however, scarcely any further attempt at naturalness beyond the masks, as the actors who play the roles of animals simply wear a pair of loose trousers, and a jacket of a colour somewhere near the real colour of the animals they represent, but it need not necessarily be a very faithful copy. Besides the above there are some miscellaneous characters which are costumed in a manner suitable to each. In these cases it is permitted to each individual actor to dress up his own part to a very great extent. The Music is an important feature of the Siamese drama, but as it is a branch of study in itself it would be obviously impossible to do anything but just touch upon it slightly here. The music, like practically everything else connected with the Siamese theatre, is somewhat strictly bound by tradition. Although 'singing tunes' may be altered and arranged to suit each individual theatrical manager's taste up to a certain extent, those which we may call 'action tunes' are quite unalterable. Each 'action tune' is a conventional sign in itself, and is

THE SIAMESE THEATRE

7

indissolubly connected with certain dances or actions. Thus, there is a 'walking tune', a 'marching tune', a 'laughing tune', a 'weeping tune', an 'anger tune', and soon. When the orchestra strikes up one of these tunes the actor knows at once what he is supposed to do, and dances or acts accordingly. Some of these tunes are really very expressive of the action they denote, but of course it is imperative that one should first have learnt to understand the character of Siamese music, when these tunes will be duly appreciated at their true value. Songs are not, as a rule, sung by the actors themselves, as it is practically impossible to sing and execute the accompanying elaborate dances and posturing required at the same time. Experiments have of late years been often tried, but they have not been attended with any considerable amount of success. Since this is so, it is more usual to have the songs sung by a troupe of singers, the actors merely dancing and posturing to illustrate the words sung. This plan, though it may seem strange to foreigners, works extremely smoothly, and appears to the Siamese to be perfect. This is not the place to give an elaborate description of Siamese musical instruments, but it may be noted that, for theatrical purposes, the orchestra is made up of the following instruments:1. Ranad ek, or the alto xylophone. 2. Ranad thum, or the basso xylophone. 3. Ghong yai, or the large (basso) gongs. 4. Ghong lek, or the small (alto} gongs. These two latter instruments consist of circular frameworks, upon which are hung a set of gongs graduated to scale. 5. Pi nai, or the alto flageolet, a kind of harsh oboe. 6. Pi nawk, or the basso flageolet, a kind of harsh oboe. 7. Ta'phOn, a kind of tom-tom. 8. Klong thad, a set of three drums. The above are the most important component parts of the orchestra, but certain other minor instruments may be added if required. Having now prepared the ground, so to speak, we may go on to mention the essential difference between the two forms of Siamese drama.

8

Maha Vajiravudh

Khbn.- The khan is a form of drama that is undoubtedly of ancient origin, wherein practically all the actors, except those playing female parts, wear distinctive masks. As a rule women do not play in the khan, even the female parts being taken by men. The dancing and posturing are both graceful and expressive, grace and expression being very nicely combined. Not only the arms and hands but the whole body has to be used, and it is no exaggeration to say that a great deal of muscular exertion is required to perform the dances and postures in the proper way. The training of a kh8.n actor is both long and tedious. In the first stages it resembles a very thorough gymnastic training. It takes the best part of a year, sometimes longer, before an actor attains anything like proficiency. Taking the fact of the strenuousness of the dancing and posturing into consideration, it is obviously impossible for the actor to sing or speak his own lines; besides, even if he were not too tired to do so, the mask he wears would effectually prevent him from being beard clearly. Therefore, his lines are spoken for him by a chorus, the actor suiting his actions to the words. There are also certain occasions when the actor relies upon pantomime to express his words, and such pantomimic action could be as expressive as words when performed by a first-rate actor. The plays presented by the khan are always some portions of that great Indian epic, the RamaymJa, the whole of which has been done into Siamese.

Lagor.- The lagor (or more commonly, but quite erroneously, lakhcm) is also a very ancient form of drama. In this the players do not wear masks unless they represent the parts of demons, monkeys, or some being other than human. Both men arid women take part in lagor performances, but they do not play together as a general rule. Indeed, in what may be termed genuine lagor, all characters, male and female, are played by women, with the exception of clowns, who are men. As is to be expected, grace rather than strenuousness characterizes the dances and posturings of a lagor player, and the arms and the hands play more prominent parts than the lower limbs. In training a lagor player more attention is paid to training the body to move gracefully tha11 to muscular exertion. As the strong point of the khOn

9

THE SIAME:SP. 'L'HEATHE

is its strenuous virility, so is grace of action the strong point of the lagor. The !agar may be termed a singing drama, but this does not mean that the players themselves sing. A choir sings; the players act and dance to suit the words. The players may, however, speak certain lines for themselves. Besides the serious lagor, there is also the lagor talok or Comic Drama, in which men and women play together, and nearly all sing their own solos, aided by the choir. This is an excellent form of entertainment, and provides a good deal of fun; but unfortunately it has almost practically been ousted by the more vulgar like, which is much easier to act, and requires practically no previous training. There are also two other primitive forms of lagor, known as the lag or c' hatri and the manura. Of these, the manor is the more primitive, and therefore, probably, the more ancient form; it is still extensively performed in the southern provinces of Siam. The c'hatri is said to be also of southern origin, in which case it is probably an improved form of manora, although the writer prefers the more simple and primitive manora to the c'hatri. The very primitiveness of the manDra is its chief attraction. Everything in it is so unaffectedly simple and unostentatious, but it cannot be denied that, like plain food, it does not please every one equally.

a

The plays presented by the lagor are many and various, since tradition does not bind it to the representation of the RamayarJa alone as in the case of the khan. Siamese dramatic literature is not extensive, so that practically no new pieces are ever seen. Virtually all the best pieces have attained the rank of classics. Stories from Indian mythology and epics provide the sources of drama, although there are some genuine and original Siamese tales of great merit and popularity, notably the Khun C'h"iing Khun P'h'im and the Krai Thong, which are both tales of the latter period in the history of Ayuthia. Having given a brief outline of the condition of the genuine Siamese Drama, we now proceed to give a list of the principal characters appearing in the Ramaya1Ja, which list will at the same time serve as a sort of catalogue of the collection of theatrical masks presented here in the Pavilion of the Kingdom of Siam at this Exhibition.

10

Maha Vajidivudh

List of Charactel's in the Ramayal}a 1 N.B. Proper names within parentheses represent the Sanskrit form of such as are given in black type, whenever the latter in their Siamese spelling differ from the original Sanskrit ones. A short description of the mask worn, etc,, is added at the end of each respective entry.

1. Celestials

1. Siva, the chief of the gods; white, crowned. 2. Uma Bhagavati, wife of Siva; proper, crowned. 3. Mahesvari, id.; id. 4. Sarasvati id.; id. 5. Khanda Kumara (Skanda), son of Siva; golden; six faces, twelve hands. 6. VighaQes (Ga~zesa), id.; dark brown, elephant-headed. 7. Vinaya (Vinayaka), id.; id. 8. Chitu-pada, minister to Siva; dark red, uncrowned. 9. Id., id.; id. 10. Chitu-ra:ja (Chitra-ratha), id.; golden, uncrowned. 11. Chitu-sen (Chitra-sena), id.; light red, uncrowned. 12. Vi?PU or Naraym;ta, one of the gods of the Hindu Trilogy; deep azure, crowned; four arms, hands holding a conch trumpet, a wheel, a short trident, a club. 13. Siri (Sri), wife of Vi~QU; proper, crowned.

14. Lak~mi, id.; id. 15. Brahma (Brahma), one of the gods of the Hindu Trilogy; white; four faces, eight arms. 16. Indra, regent of the Firmament; green, crowned. 17. Suchitra, wife of Indra; proper, crowned. 18. Sujata, id.; id. 19. Sudharma, id.; id. 20. Sunanda, id.; id. Siamese version, or rather adaptation of the poem, called Ramakien, (Riimakirtti), which, as may be seen from some of the footnotes appended to this list, consideraby differs in some matters of detail from the two well-known Sanskrit recensions of the poem in India. It would be too long and rather out of place to discuss here the causes which gave rise to such discrepancies in the Siamese version. Suffice it to say that some of these are distinctly traceable to Buddhist influences. (G.B. G.)

'!'HE SIAMESE Tfl:U:ATim

ti

21. Arajun ( Arjuna ), celestial warrior; golden (or proper), crowned. 22. Matuli (Matali), Indra's charioteer, lent to Rama during the war; white, crowned. 23. V13su-nal}a (Visva-jriiit}a), minister to Indra; yellow. 24. Visu-kanna ( Visvakarman ), celestial armourer; green; turbaned. 25. Mal}i-Melchala, a sea-goddess (see also No. 229 ); azure (not masked, but painted). 26. Aditya, the sun; red. 27. Chandra, the moon-god; white. 28. Angar (Angaraka), or Mars; pink. 29. Budh (Budha), or Mercury, son of Siva; green. 30. Brihas ( Brihaspati), or the planet god Jupiter; yellow. 31. Sukra, or the planet god Venus; light yellow. 32. Saura, or the planet god Saturn; black. 33. Rahu, the god of meteors and a personification of the eclipse and ascending node; purple. 34. Ketu, a malignant god and a personification of the descending node; golden. N.B. The nine gods mentioned above, from Aditya to Ketu, form the 'Nava graha Deva' or 'Nine Gods of Destiny', so called because they are supposed to take turns in watching over the destiny of each and every man.

35. Vayu, the god of Wind (Bolus); white. 36. Agni, the Fire-god; red. 37. Kala, Kali (or Durg'a), a malignant deity (Time, Fate, Illluck); 1 dark sepia. 38. Vanaspati, god of the forests (Sylvanus); light yellow. 39. Smudr (Samudra), the ocean; sea-green. 40. Hima-banta (Himavat, Himavanta), the god of the Himalayan for~st and king of mountains; dark rose. 41. Virul} (V aru1J.a), the rain and the sovereign of waters (a sort of Neptune); azure. 42. Maha Jaya, god of Victory; 2 yellow.

2

Kiila (Time, Fate, Death) is a form of Yama; Kuli (the Black) or Karuii (the Dreadful) is Durga, the terrible form of Mahadevi, wife of the god Siva; K'Uii is the spirit of evil or ill-luck personified. (G.E.G.) Perhaps identical with Jaya or Jayan/{1, the son of Indra. (G.E.G.)

.. 12

Mah·a Vajiriivudh

43. Viriil-haka, the chief of the Kumbhat:tc!as and regent of the South; dark purple. 44. Viriil-pak~a (Virupak.ra), chief of the Nagas and regent of the West; light purple. 2. Mortals, descendants of the Gods 45. Anomatan (=Raghu), king of Ayuddhya or Ayodhya, son of Vi~qu; white (or proper), crowned. 46. Ma~i-kesara (Mm;i-kesara ?), queen to the above; proper, crowned. 47. Ajapal (Ajapala or Aja), king of Ayodhya, son of Anomatan (Raghu); white (or proper), crowned. 48. Deva-Apsara (Devi ?), queen to the above; proper, crowned. 49. Dasaratha, king of Ayodhya, son of AJapal (Aja); white (or proper), crowned. 50. Kansuriya (Kausal ya), queen to Dasaratha; proper ,crowned. 51. Kaya-kesi (Kaikey'i), id. (this lady was the cause of Rama being exiled from his kingdom); id. 52. Smuda (Sumitra), queen to Dasaratha; id. 53. Rama, king of Ayodhya, son of Dasaratha and Kansuriya (Kausalyii), incarnation of the god Vigtu; green, crowned. 54. Bharat (Bharata), regent of Ayodhya during Rama's exile, son of Dasaratha and Kaya-kesi (Kaikeyi); red, crowned. 55. Lak~a.t]a or Lak~man (Lak~ma1Ja), son of Dasaratha and Smuda (Sumitdl), Rama's comrade during his exile and his lieutenant in the war; golden, crowned. 56. Satrud (Satrughna), id., companion to Bharat; light purple, crowned. 57. Makut (Kusa), son of Rama and Si'Ui; green. 58. Lava, id.; id. 59. Sumantan (Sumantra), chief councillor to Dasaratha; proper, uncrowned. 3. Mortals, other than those Of Heavenly descent 60. Roma-bata (Romapada), king of Bada Visaya (Anga); white (or proper). 61. Arut:tvati (Santa), daughter of Romabata (Romapada); proper.

13

'1'1-IE SIAMESE 'L'HEATJU•:

62. The king of Kayakes (l(aikeya), father of Queen Kayakesi (Kaikeyi);l white (proper). 63. Kesini, queen of Kayakes (Kaikeya), mother of Kayakesi (Kaikeyi); proper. 64. Janaka Chakravatti (Chakravarti), king of Mithila (the capital of the Videha country), who adopted Sita as his daughter; white (or proper). 4. J.l.i~i (Hermits or Anchorites) mentioned in the Riimiiyal}a N.B.

All

~.i~i

masks, unless otherwise stated, are of the proper colour.

A. The jour who took part in the founding of Ayodhya

65. Achanda-Gavi. 66. Yuddha-Akkhara. 67. Daha (Dak~a?). 68. Yaga (Yajna ?). B. The jour who brought life to Mandodevi, (Mandodari, see No. 117) 69. 70. 71. 72.

Roma-Sinha. Vatanta. Vajira (V ajra). Visuddhasa.

C. The ri~i who brought Kal-Achna (Ahalya, see No. 246) to life 73. Gotama.

D. The five who brought about the incarnation causing Rama to be born 74. Palaya-Kota (l,?.iua-Sringa); deer-faced. 75. 76. 77. 78.

2

~f Vi~nu,

Svamitra (Visvamitra). Vaj-aggi. Bharadvaja. Vasi~~ha. 2

This king bore the name of A.~1·a-pati, and it was he who educated his nephew Bharata. (G.E.G.) According to both Sanskrit versions of the RiimiiyaiJa, the chief priests who performed the l!acrifice (afva-medha) with brought about the birth of Rama were : ~i~ya-Sringa, Vasi~tha, Suyajna, Vamadeva, Jiivali, and Kasyapa. Visviimitra and Bharadvaja had nothing at all to do with it. (G.E.G).

Mahii Vajlriivudh

14

E. Those encountered by Rama during his travels 79. Sudama Tapasa (Atri? Sutlkfr;a ?). 80. Sukhai Tapasini (Anasuya? Savati), a female hermit. 81. Aggata ( Agastya, on Mount Kunjara, north of the Vindhyas). 82. Sarabhanga, in DatJ.daka forest.

F. The Holy Man of Mithila 83. Sudamantan (Sudaman).

G. The Holy Man of Khitkhin

(Ki~kindhya)

84. Angata.

H. The three Holy Men of Lan/Ui 85. Narada. 86. Gomuda. 87. Kal Tapasa.

I. The three Holy Men of the Triku~a (Chitra-k'U!a ?) Mountain 88. Sumedha (Valmiki ?). 89. Amara-mesa. 90. Paramesa.

J. The Holy Man of the Marakat (Malaya?) Mountain 91. Disbhaya.

K. The Holy Men of Kailas (Kailiisa) Mount

92. Gavin. 93. Sukha-VaqI 5 The friendly relationship with the missionaries, which grew out of Chuthamani's desire to learn about the West, came to be the cornerstone of his enlightenment. And, just as his early contacts with the missionaries were based on his desire to learn English, he continued to seek instruction in this subject while developing interests in the fields of science, watch repairing, military science and shipbuilding. The years 1839 and 1840 are prominent ones in the latter respect. In seeking the assistance of Rev. Dan Beach Bradley, M.D., to help him develop his proficiency in English in 1839, he presented a plan to Rev. Bradley whereby another young man would also learn English. He wanted to prepare this other person to visit England and America 'for information •.16 Again, in 1840, Chuthamani prevailed upon Bradley to send some missionaries to help him improve his English. It seems that at this time the prince was working on two dictionaries. One was of English words with Siamese definitions; the other contained Siamese words with English definitions. 17 In addition, Chuthamani's knowledge of English placed him in a favored position in the court of Rama III. The king sought his assistance in translating English documents and sending out English correspondence.18

-----------------------·---------------------14) Ibid. p. 296. The agreement lasted less than two weeks. It was halted by the death of one of Chuthamani's aunts. Compared with Smith's comment, above, the problem of pinpointing Chuthamani's English instructors is further complicated. 15) Gutzlaff, C., 'Journal of a Residence in Siam, and of a Voyage Along the Coast of China to Mantchou Tartary,' The Chinese Repository 1832, I, 19. 16) Bradley Journal December 17, 1839; Moffat, up. cit., p. 19. In using the Bradley Abstract, Moffat evidently confused Chuthamani with Mongkut. He said that the latter had sought English instruction in 1839. 17) Bradley Journal June 18, 1840; Moffat, op. cit. p. 20. Moffat stated that no Siamese-English dictionary existed in the 1840s. Since there is no evidence of either of these above-mentioned works having been published, Moffat may have been correct. On the other hand, Chuthamani did teach English to his servants and his family, and he may very well have used a two volume, hand-written dictionary in this endeavor. 18) Landon, op. cit. p. 307.

46

William

t.

Cowan

Chuthamani's use of his knowledge of English and contact with westerners, especially the British, is reflected in his early contributions to a modernized Siam. In 1832 he constructed a small-scale ship in imitation of the European square-rigged design. 19 This ship, The Rayal Adelaide, was originally intended to be a junk, but when the work was well-advanced, the plans were changed. Considering the early date and the previous comment on his desire to imitate the West, the fact that he was able to enlist the aid of some English sailors probably bad a be.aring on the altering of the original plans.2b Moreover, it is said that the prince 'studied navigation and the art of shipbuilding very early, even before there were resident Protestant missionaries in Siam.'21 As his knowledge of western concepts became more profound, the modernizing process was hastened by his contributions. And, as this process began to catch bold in all fields, Chuthamani's interests naturally expanded. In addition to shipbuilding, his early mechanical ventures included the repairing of watches, which was described as 'his favorite occupation', and the introduction of the first turning lathe into Siam. 22 Having established himself as a naval man, though, Chuthamani wanted to construct the latest types of nautical vessels. His efforts were greatly advanced when a Mr. Chandler arrived in Bangkok in 1843 to replace Rev. Jones. Although Chandler was there only two years, he helped the prince establish the first machine shop in Siam in 1844. 23 Under Chandler's tutelage, Chuthamani also introduced the steam engine into Siam in 1846. By 1848 he bad constructed Siam's first steamship and was using it to travel up and down the Chao Phrya River. This great achievement was noted in the United States when in 1849 the New York Tribune reprinted an article which had appeared in the Singapore Free Press on October 19, 1848. In paying tribute to Chutbamani, who generally acted as steersman on the steamer, the article said: 19) Gutzlaff, op. cit. p. 20 20) Ruschenberger, ojJ. cit. p. 292. 21) Smith, op. cit. vol 1 p. 61. 22) Neale, op. cit. p. 90; Smith, op. cit. vol 1 p. 61; Mario E. Cosenza, ed. The CompleteJoumal ofTozvnsend Harris 1930 p. 158. 23) Smith, op. cit. vol1 pp, 328 & 332.

THE ROLE OF PRINCE CHUTHAMAN!IN THE MODERNIZING OF SIAM

47

The workmanship of even the most minute part of the engine itself is truly admirable, and reflects the greatest credit on its royal constructor, who had every portion of it made under his immediate superintendence and constant inspection, and by workmen all self-instructed, being his Highness' body servants and retinue.24 In his role as Major General in charge of the King's Artillery, Cbuthamani introduced English drill procedures and English-style uniforms into Siam. 25 Although they did not create as much excitement as his nautical efforts, his name continued to be linked with drill methods well into the twentieth century. And in 1924 the manual, which be had translated from English into Siamese in 1841 (keeping the words of command in English), was republished,26 Chuthamani's interests were not confined to military and naval matters. One of his most significant, but less-known, contributions to a modernized Siam lies in the field of medicine. The first case of midwifery according to western concepts was performed on the wife of Prince Krom Luang Wongsa in 1852, 27 but interest in the western method was first shown by Chutbamani as early as 1835. When he had known Bradley less than a month, he discussed the Siamese method of midwifery with him and requested the loan of a book Bradley had on the western method. 28 That his interest was more than intellectual curiosity is evidenced by the request he made in December, 1835, to 24) Moffat, op. cit. pp 49-50, quoting the New Yorll Tribune; Smith, op. cit. 25)

26) 27)

28)

vol 1 3 34-3 6; John C. Templer, ed., The Pri·vate Letters of Sir James Brooke, K.C.B., Rajah of Sarawek, 1803.1868 1853 vol 2 p. 299. Bradley Journal August 15, 1835; Sir John Bowring, The Kingdom and People of Siam 1857 vol 2 p. 315. In noting the file of soldiers through which he passed on his way to the second king's palace, Bowring said that they 'had been obviously under European training.' He also made a timely comparison of the king and second king when he said of the ceremonies prepared by the latter, 'there was a higher tone of civilization and better knowledge of European customs exhibited.' H.R.H. Prince Chula Chakrabongse, Lords of Life 1960 p. 195; H.R.H. Prince Damrong, 'The Introduction of Western Culture in Siam', The Journal of the Siam Society val 20 pt 2, 1926 p. 97. Moffat, op. cit. p. 64; Bradley Joul'nal February 2, 1852. Prince Wongsa was a physician himself and a member of the New York Academy of Medicine. Bradley Journal August 25, 1835.

48

William L. Cowan

have Bradley attend his expectant wife. Although Bradley arrived four hours after the woman had been delivered, he noted in his journal that the prince 'expressed abhorrence' of the Siamese custom of placing the mother before a large fire, which was thought to help to dry away any post-natal diseases that might develop. Chuthamani told Bradley that although court pressures would not allow such a high official as himself to adopt the western method, he would allow Bradley 'to practice his method on the lower order of females.' 29 Such an opportunity arose two weeks later, but this time the patient, a slave of Chuthamani, was not yet ready to be delivered when Bradley arrived.30 No further references in regard to midwifery can be found in the missionary's journal until 1839, but it is interesting to note the increased interest in the western method at that time. When a treatise that Bradley had prepared on smallpox was delivered to the king in March, l839, the latter requested a similar work on midwifery. 31 Unlike the smallpox treatise, though, it took Bradley many years to complete the text on midwifery, and, as previously stated, the first use of the western method in Siam did not occur until 1852. In pressing for the adoption of this method, Chuthamani once again demonstrated his foresight, initiative and perservance. Chuthamani's interest in the West caused him to have both a position of favor and suspicion in the court of Rama III. By dividing the western impact during the Third Reign into three stages, a more meaningful explanation of the prince's political. position emerges. The period from 1824 until 1838, although commercial treaties were negotiated with Great Britain and the United States, was one of passive acceptance of the westerner.32 In the second stage (1838-44) western ways were actively and vigorously accepted. The expulsion of Hunter in 1844 marked the beginning of the final, or recoiling, stage.33

-------------

29) Ibid. December 28, 18 35. 30) Ibid. January 8, 1936. 31) Ibid. March 24, 1839. 32) In 1826 the Siamese and British signed the Burney Treaty, and in 1833 the Siamese-American agreement, known as the Roberts Treaty, was negotiated. 33) Vella, op. cit, p. 129.

'l'lllc HOLE OJI~I'HINCE CHlJTllAMANI IN THE MODERNIZING OF SIAM

49

It was not until late in the first stage that Chuthamani's enlightenment began to affect Siam. With the increasing influx of westerners, especially after the Americans began arriving in 1832, the passivity of the court began to wane. Chuthamani came to play a dominant role in challenging certain Siamese customs and introducing western ways and objects into Siam. As a result, the westerners thought of him as the heir apparent, or second king 34 , and a rumor began to circulate in 1836 that Rama III was going to appoint him to the rank of Uparat.35 Although the rumor, which held that Chuthamani was going to marry the king's favorite daughter, did not materialize, its validity cannot be simply brushed aside. Bradley was the first person to note the proposed union in his journal in December, 1835, and it would be well to analyze the circumstances which existed at that time. Bradley's journal entry was made when the prince's interest in midwifery had brought him, from the standpoint of daily contact, close to the missionary doctor. In stating why the prince did not want to pressure the court into allowing Bradley to use his method of post-natal care, Bradley said : The relation of Chow Fah [ Chuthamani] to the king is such just now that he is exceedingly fearful of offending him. He evidently was afraid that such an innovation of sacred custom as he desired would meet with the frowns of his brother [the king]. The rumor is and there can be little doubt of the genuiness of its foundation that the king proposes to promote Chow Fah to the station of 2 King by giving him in marriage his favorite daughter and that the nuptials are to be celebrated in a short time. Such is the delicateness of Chow Fah's 34) The western writers in Siam during the reign of Rama III did not refer to the Uparat position by either its official designation or heir apparent· Rather, in speaking of Chuthamani as the second ranking person in the kingdom, they called him ' the second king '. 35) Vella, oj>. cit. p. 8. Vella pointed out that this post was vacated on May 1, 1832 with the death of the first Uparat appointed by Rama III. He also discussed the king's decision to leave the post vacant and promote leading princes to higher department ranks.

50

William

L

Cowan

relations to the throne that he is constrained to be wise as a serpent with the apparent harmlessness of a dove. 36 In addition, it should be noted that Ruschenberger's comment' Prince Momfanoi has crept into the favor of Rama III and was about to marry his favorite daughter'- was made nearly a year later in October, 1836.3 7 Despite the close friendship of Bradley and Chuthamani and the long existence of the rumor, its factual foundation remains unclear. One could argue that Ruschenberger's comments resulted from his desire to see Chuthamani become king, since he outlined the comse of events that would follow such a change in administration. 38 On the other hand, Bradley's notation came at a time when both he and the prince were involved in a highly emotional matter, and the latter's reluctance to contradict the views or the court must have been a difficult decision. Furthermore, since active acceptance or western ways by the court was still three years away39, the prince's enlighten~ ment had caused him 'to be watched with a jealous eye.' 40 This latter comment, made in late 1836, is probably the key to the whole question. Perhaps in 1835 Rama III had proposed the marriage, but as Chuthamani became more endeared to western customs, especially in regard to midwifery, the king may have become less inclined to follow through with his proposal. Even though he did not become Uparat, Chuthamani continued to hold a high position in the king's court. When Rama III began to actively accept certain western practices in 1838, the political influence ..-

--

36) Bradley Journal December 28, 1835 and June 13, 1836; Abeel, op. cit. p. 296. Abeel said of Chuthamani, 'he bids for the throne, and is perhaps afraid of anything which might render his success doubtful.' 37) Ruschenberger, op. cit. p. 292. 38) Ibid. p. 298. The changes that he outlined were: improvements in industry; mo~e general and liberal education; the missionaries benefiting more from thetr labors; adoption of Christianity; and, a commercial treuty of great worth to the United States. 39) The reference here is to the king's interest in the prevention of smallpox by the use of inoculation in late 18 3 8. 40) Ruschenberger, op. cit. p. 292; Bradley Journal August 15, 1835; Neale, op. cit. pp. 91-2.

TilE ROLE OF PHINCE CHUTHAMANI IN THE MODEHNIZING OF SJAThl

51

of the prince was probably at its peak. Nevertheless, his friendship with the westerners and their suggestion that he could do much for his country if he became king seems to have directed his desires more towards that goal. In contrast with his early attachment to western ways for personal reasons, the prince's interest in the West now began to manifest itself in contributions to a modernizing Siam.4 1 In addition, he began to subtly oppose the king. For example, he obtained an American newspaper announcing the projected voyage of the Peacock and containing a list of its officers but did not tell the king about the voyage. 42 On another occasion, when the king was confronting Bradley with numerous obstacles in finding a place to live, Chuthamani offered the missionary a brick edifice for his housing. 34 But perhaps the subtlest move of all was his patronization of the poet Sunthon Phu. Rama III had dismissed this poet from his post in the department of writers early in his reign and had stripped him of his title, K.hun Sunthonwohan, which Rama II had given him. As a result, many of Sunthon Phu's poems during the Third Reign referred to his personal difficulties. 44 Despite growing difficulties with the king, which caused Chuthamani to live in a state of constant apprehension, the prince continued to foster his interest in western ways throughout the 1830s and 1840s. But by 1844, when Siam began to recoil from the western impact, he was faced with a dilemma. Should he conform to court policy, as he had done in 1835, or should he continue to pursue his western interests'? As we have seen, he followed the latter course for a while, but in about 1847 or 1848 he began a mysterious withdrawal from both political affairs and the western impact. Perhaps this withdrawal, more than anything else, showed Chuthamani's true character. He has been described as a gentleman 41) Dr. Richardson, 'Journal of a Mission from the Supreme Government of India to the Court of Siam', The Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal 1840 vol 9 p. 248. As an example he noted Chuthamani's interest in desiring to take a leave from his duties to make a map of the kingdom from survey. 42) Ruschenberger, op. cit. p. 296. 43) BradleyJournal August 14, 1838. 44) Vella, op. cit. pp. 56· 7. Vella noted that he 'has been called the Siamese Shakespeare.'

52

William L. Cowan

and a leader, and taken separately they appear to have been accurate assertions. He was a leader by virtue of the fact that he introduced many western concepts and objects into Siam. And he was a gentleman because of his bumble but yet inquisitive nature. Going one step further, however, he was not a 'gentleman leader' in the sense that he did not waiver when confronted with opposing views by his superiors. Instead of attempting to prove that he was right, he compromised his views in the court's favor. Being, rather, a' gentleman innovator', Chuthamani kept his discontent contained within himself and limited his opposition to subtle, but harmless, actions. When Rama III fell ill with what proved to be a fatal sickness in 1850, speculation in regard to a successor began to be voiced. At the same time, Bradley made a timely comment in his journal to the effect that Chuthamani's former position as the most promising individual in Siam45 had drastically changed. He said : ... he has for a long time, a number of years, secluded himself from both the missionaries and the English. He was once exceedingly intimate with them and made rabid advances in the acquisition of the English language and English names and customs. It is said that his conduct [of late] is very mysterious and such as does not give much promise of his making a good king if he should ascend the throne. 46 By withdrawing, as he did, Chuthamani opened the way for his enlightened brother, Mongkut, to assume his (Chuthamani's) former possition of prominence among the westeners and court members, and in April, 1851, Mongkut succeeded to the throne. The relationship of Chuthamani and Mongkut, both prior to and following the latter's accession in 1851, is significant for two reasons. Prior to Rama HI's demise and Mongkut's appointment as king, the brothers seemed to be on very friendly terms. But, following Mongkut's succession, despite the fact that he invited Chuthamani to become the second king and accorded him with honors higher than 45) Bradley Journal June 13, 1836; Rtrschenl?erger, op, cit, pp. 46} BradleyJoumal October 17, 1850,

2~2-3.

THE HOLE OF Pl\!NCE CHUTHAMANI IN THE MODEHNIZING OF SIAM

53

those paid to any previous Uparat in the Chakkri dynasty47, this friendship diminished into one of suspicion, fear and even hatred. In addition to the fact that their Chaofa titles made them the only children of Rama II having the highest princely rank, Mongkut and Chuthamani were brought closer together as a result of the early western impact in Siam. Acting as the go-between for his priestly brother and Bradley, Chutbamani asked the latter to visit Mongkut when he was seriously ill with a disease which had caused a condition of paralysis of the face. After convincing the court physicians that the western doctor could cure the disease, Mongkut willingly placed himself under the exclusive care of Bradley. 48 Although Bradley's treatment saved the patient's life, the king (Rama III) soon ordered Mongkut to be cared for by the court physicians. 49 It appears, however, that this medical experience, which was noticeable for the remainder of Mongkut's life, opened the door to further acceptance of western ways. A few years later, in 1840, Mongkut took up printing as a hobby, because he wanted to romanize the Pali scriptures.SO Since his only access to type was through Bradley, the earlier medical relationship and the ever-present religious consideration formed a basis for this new venture. The relationship of Mongkut and the westerners took a new turn in 1845 when he arranged to have Joseph Caswell teach him 47) Chakrabongse, ojJ. cit. pp. 184-85. 48) Bradley Journal April 23, 1836. Bradley gave a detailed description of the disease, which the Siamese called 'wind', as it affected Mongkut. He said: He [ Mongkut j had had a complaint in his head and right ear a long time which had come to be paralysis of the nerve (which proceeds out of the skull ) just behind the ear and supplies the muscles of the face, consequently the right side of the face was much relaxed and the mouth drawn round to the left side. To talk he was obliged to take hold of the right side of his mouth and support it. The right eye was much congested with blood and the lids a little relaxed and there was also some time-faction under the right ear. 49) Ibid. May 6, 1836. Bradley suspected that this was done because the court physicians wanted to take credit for his work. 50) Board of Foreign Missions, JJ1issionary Letters vol 1 Letter no. 8, William P. Buell to Hon. Walter Lowrie, July I, 1840.

54

William L. Cowan

English. 51 Mongkut's interest in learning English may have been due in the first instance to Cbuthamani's enlightenment. 5 2 This suggestion is made because it was not until the 1840s that the priestly prince began to actively court western ways, and Caswell had had a previous arrangement with Chuthamani to instruct him in English. Moreover, in 1842 Caswell wrote a treatise on astronomy which Bradley translated and printed in Siamese. 53 Considering Mongkut's interest in astronomy 54 , this vvas likely another factor in his desire to have Caswell teach his English. The brothers continued to share a strong friendship throughout the 1840s. Certain events, however, had begun to unfold in the late 1830s which paved the way for Mongkut's succession to the throne. Both he and Chuthamani were accorded various honors by Rama III indicative of being recognized as the second king, though neither was formally so recognized. In 1837 Mongkut was transferred to a new European style wat. It was called Wat Pavaraniveca. This name is very similar to the official name of the second king's palace. Pavarasthana, meaning 'excellent residence'. And, it has been concluded that 'everything contributed to represent Prince Mongkut as the Second King of Siam who had voluntarily retired from public life.' 55 The circumstances surrounding Chuthamani's recognition

-----------

51) Moffat op. cit. p. 20; Bradley Journal November 21, 1845. Caswell instructed Mongkut one hour a clay, four days a week. The arrangement was that after teaching him in the wat, Caswell would retire to a room which the prince had fitted up for him to preach the gospel and distribute tracts. 52) Chakrabongse, ojJ. cit. p. 182. Chula suggested that Chuthamani followed Mongkut's example in learning English. lie stated fmther that Mongkut studied English for six years. Considering previous citations of Chuthamani's having studied English as early as 18 30, the former seems to be an erroneous assertion. Furthermore, another statement by Chula that Mongkut's 'knowledge of English was the key which unlocked the door to other studies' is an indicatio11 that Mongkut followed his brother's example in learning English. 53) Bradley Journal September, 1842. No date was entered. 54) Chakrabongse, op. r:it. p. 182; Moffat op. cit. chap. 10 passim. This was a major contributing factor in his death in 1868. He contracted his fatal disease while on an as tronomical journey to southernSiam to observe the total eclipse of the sun. 55) Lingat, R., 'History of Wat Pavaraniveca,' 'I'he Journal of tlze Siam Society vol26 pt 1, 1933 pp. 76-7.

'rilE HOLE OF PHINGE CIHIT!-IA~IAN! IN 'I'!!Jo: MODEHNIZ!NG 0~' SIAM

55

as second king have already been discussed. Briefly, they include the rumor of his proposed marriage to one of Rama III's daughters and his political position in the Third Reign. Irregardless of the implications that may be drawn from these events, it still remains that by retiring to the priesthood Mongkut lived in seclusion from political life. 56 in the midst of this hazardous life.

Chuthamani, though, lived

He was susceptible Lo suspicion,

which, in fact, was prevalent. Another factor, which influenced the 1851 turn of events, is that Mongkut did not allow his enlightenment to have the personal effect on him that it had had on Chutbamani. This is seen most clearly in their reaction to Christianity. Chuthamani, it should be noted, availed himself to the influence of Christianity as early as 1830 when he asked Rev. Tomlin for a Bible. 57 By 1836 he bad adopted the Christian custom of suspending labor on the Sabbath. 58 On the other hand, the Christian influence caused Mongkut to lead a reform movement in Buddhism which 'attempted to change the outlook of Buddhism from concentration on the monastic life to concentration on enlightening the people.' 59 But, when the westerners attempted to convert him to Christianity, he rebuked their advances saying, 'What you teach people to do is admirable, but what you teach them to believe is foolish.'60 The specific events that caused the Phrakklang, the most powerful member in the Senabodi in 1851, to support Mongkut's claim to the throne are yet to be analyzed. However, a discussion of Mongkut and Chuthamani, as Rama IV and Phra Pinklao or the first and second kings, respectively, in the Fourth Reign, will afford us with further insights in regard to their roles as modernizers and their reactions to the resurging western impact after 1851. 56) Lingat, 'History of Wat Mahadhatu' op. cit. p. 18. 57) The Missiorwry Herald, ' Mission of the London and Netherlands Societies in Siam,' (Boston 1830) vol 26 p. 218. 58) BradleyJournal January 10, 1836. 59) Vella, of'· cit. p. 41. 60) Griswold, op. cit. p. 21.

William t. Cowatl

It has been said that 'Mongkut wanted the council to offer the throne jointly to his brother and himself. •61 Although the council did not accept the request, Chuthamani was named second king. Prince Chula has suggested two reasons for this action. The first concerned Chutbamani's horoscope, which 'was so strong that he was likely to be king one day.' This could have, he said, 'made Mongkut feel that, if he were king alone, he would not live very long.' The other suggestion dealt with the concept of brotherly love. By making Chuthamani second king, perhaps Mongkut 'was able to demonstrate his great love and at the same time put an end to any ambition which the younger prince might have entertained.'62 The second alternative seems to be a more realistic explanation.

At any rate this great love soon degenerated into conflict. But unlike the subtle conflicts of the Third Reign, those in the subsequent one were open and, oddly enough, initiated by the king. Two revealing examples are a letter that Rama IV wrote to his ambassadors in London in 1855 and his reaction to Bradley's translation of the account of his enthronement. In the letter he not only substantiated certain rumors of the mutual suspicion and jealousy of the two kings, he also recognized certain superior characteristics of Phra Pinklao. One 'small matter' that worried him was 'the common talk of the town', which held 'that the Second King has more military strength in the country than all other persons.' 63 Could it be that he feared the possibility of a coup by his younger brother? 64 A second point concerns the earlier references to the fact that the second king was more enlightened than himself. His further comments on this matter lead one to conclude that he was very much aware and quite concerned that his years in the priesthood had hurt his political image at home, as well as abroad. This and Phra Pinklao's superior command of English were alluded to when the king 61) Chakrabongse, op. cit. p. 185; United States Senate Documents, 32 Cong, 1 sess, no. 38, 'Report of Jos. Balestier to Sec. of State, Nov. 25, 1851 •, p. 23. 62) Chakrabongse, op. cit. p. 185. 63) Moffat, op. cit. pp. 56-7. 64) Vella, W.F., The Impact of the West on Gove1'11ment in Thailand 1955 p, 321.

TilE HOLE OJ•' I'HINC:I\

C:IIUTllA~IANI

IN THE MODEHNIZINC OF SlAM

57

said, 'Whenever he [Rama IV] is called upon to receive foreign guests, the Second King must always be behind his back to tell him what to say.' 65 Of course, this was probably a derisive comment, but it does convey the concern of Rama IV about being compared with his younger brother. In 1852, when Bradley was asked to translate into English the account of Rama IV's enthronement, the latter was upset by the misssionary's rendition. The king's indignation stemmed from the interpretation which made it appear 'that his younger brother was endowed with more wisdom and ability to rule the kingdom than himself.' Bradley said that 'the mistake had arisen from a loose and ambiguous mode of speaking of the Second King.' The passage in question implied that the first king was younger than someone, but it was not clear who that someone was. Bradley assumed that it meant the second king was younger than Rama IV.66 The strained feelings, though, were not displayed exclusively by Rama IV. An example of the mutuality of the conflict of personalities is revealed in the acceptance of midwifery by the Siamese. Credit for allowing the first case of midwifery among the Siamese can be given to Rama IV, 67 but credit for its complete acceptance must be given to Phra Pinklao. During the months of August, September and October, 1852, the queen suffered under the effects of a premature delivery caused by a fight in the harem. The king, in a good example of clinging to the old order while accepting the new, consulted both the court physicians and Bradley during this period. But it was to no avail as she died on October 10.68 The second king, in a move reminiscent of his actions in the former reign, called Bradley to care for his favorite concubine who began to labor two weeks later. Unwittingly, Bradley said that he had feared he would no longer be popular because of the queen's death. Phra Pinklao not only restored his faith, but he placed the concubine under the exclusive care of Bradley. 69 65) Moffat, oj>, cit. pp. 57-9. BradleyJou1'1!al February 7, 1852. 67) See footnote 33. 68) Bradley Jounzal August 14-0ctober 10, 1852; Moffat, oj>. cit. Appendix II. 69) Bradley Journal October 25, 18 52.

66)

William L. Cowan

58

In I 853 the birth of a Chao fa son, Chulalongkorn, to Ram a IV made it only too clear to Phra Pinklao that his ambitions for tile throne had been thwarted for the last time. His complacency was revealed by several writers of the period.

Mrs. Anna Leonowens said

that on Rama IV's accession the second king turned his great talents away from desires for the throne to modest works of construction within his palace grounds.70 In his journal Sir John Bowring pondered what Phra Pinklao \Vas doing since he did not occupy himself with nautical and mechanical studies, as he formerly had. In another instance Bowring came closer to the point when he remarked on meeting with Phra Pink lao, 'the Second King avoided talking of political affairs.' 71

An account in the Siam Repository noted that 'the change

for Chow Fa-noi [his succession to second king] was to a position of less notoriety.' This position, it held, 'was not favorable to the full development, or full exertion of his native and acquired abilities.' It said, further, that 'he was more strictly a private gentleman than while he was a prince, and gave himsel(' to those departments that could not awaken suspicion. •72 Prince Chula was more specific when he said that Phra Pinklao pleaded illness and would not attend many important family functions.

Not only was this rebellious attitude shown in public matters,

but it was reflected in domestic troubles as well. Physically torn by a prolonged illness, he accused a wife who had borne him twelve children of trying to poison him with 'love potions.'73 In his declining years, then, it appears that the restraint, which had characterized his life, had begun to wane. This development was responsible, in part, for the estrangement from Rama IV and finally for his death. But, although Phra Pinklao's demise on January 7, 1866, ended the life of one who had wanted to be the king, it marked 70) Landon, of'· cit. p. 307. 7 1) Bowring, of'· cit. vol 2 pp. 2 57 & 3 31. 72) Smith, oj> cit. vol 1 p. 62. 73) Chnkrabongse, op. cit, pp. 220-21. Chula said that Phra Pinklao was sick during the last five years of his life. 74) Smith, oj>. cit. voll p. 63.

'1'111·~ l!tll.l-: OF I'HINCI·: CIIUTHA\LI'il l!'i TilE \IOilEile'\IZINr: 01" ~;L\111

59

the beginning of a new era in Siamese history for on this date the hair-cutting ceremony was performed on Cbulnlongkorn 75 . It is apparent that both Rama IV and Phra Pinklao were enlightened individuals and far ahead of their time in regard to the modernization of Southeast Asia. 7 6 But, one cannot dismiss a basic fact of history: As a leader of people, the ruler must be more enlightened than his people, but he should not be so advanced as to cause new ways to be adopted by revolution, not evolution. Too rapid development leads to revolution against the regime, not the modernizing process. On the basis of material presented in this paper one could safely conclude that had Chuthamani succeeded to the throne his enlightenment might have caused him to detach himself too much from the old order to properly lead the modernizing process. Or, his withdrawal in the late 1840s may have alienated his relationship with court leaders and interested foreigners to the point of actually hindering the advancement of this process. Either of these occurrences would have caused radical developments, and the Senabodi may have realized this in 1851. No matter what their reasons, though, the choice of Mongkut to be Rama IV seems to have been a wise one.

75) Quaritch Wales, H.G., Sia1nesu State Ccrewonil's 1931 p. 132. Wales said that the importance of this ceremony (Tonsure) lies in its sociological value. In rivalling the enthronement in splendor and ceremony, it makes a first and lasting impression upon the Chaofa recipient. Specifically, Wales said it signified that 'he must begin to take lire seriously land] break with childhood days', because 'he is now a person of great importance on whom will eventually rest the responsibility for the welfare of the people.'

76) Damrong,

of>. cit. p. 98.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE MOVEMENT OF KHMU? INTO NORTH THAILAND t by

Frank M. LeBar Khmu? is a Mon-Khmer language spoken chiefly in the hills of northern Laos. Speakers of Khmu?, relatively unknown to ethnography,2 are ling.uistically and culturally related to swidden-farming hilltribesmen who in Laos are called by the generic term 'Kha' and in Vietnam by the term 'Moi.' Remnant Man-Khmer groups in Thailand include some immigrant Khmu? from Laos, as well as Lua? (Lawa), T'in, Yumbri, Chaobon and Kui. Linguistically related 1) I wish to acknowledge the assistance of the National Research Council in carrying out research on interethnic contact and assimilation in North Thailand, with special reference to the Khmu?, during the period August 1, 1964 through April 30, 1965. I am also indebted to the Public Welfare Department and to Nai Prasit Disavat, Director of the Hilltribes Division. Various officials in Chiengmai, in particular the Governor and Major Pairojn of the Border Police, have helped me with letters of introduction and in other ways. I have profited from discussions with various members of the faculty of the University of Chiengmai and with Dr. William Geddes and the staff of the Tribal Research Center. I wish also to acknowledge the help of Nai Kraisri Nimmanahaeminda, William A. Smalley, Garland Bare and Laurence C. Judd, all of whom have firsthand knowledge of Khmu? and share an interest in this group. My field work was conducted under the auspices of the Human Relations Area Files, Inc., an inter-university research organization centered in Yale University and engaged in the compilation of organized data on a broad sample of the world's known cultures for purposes of cross-cultural and areal research. My informants were chiefly immigrant male Khmu? who had come to Thailand during the days of the European teak industry; I managed to interview over 50 such individuals in a variety of situations and locations throughout North Thailand. I also worked for brief periods in Khmu~ and mixed Khmu?-Thai villages in northern Nan Province and in one or two villages south of Chiengkhong. 2) The language and culure of the Khmu? around Luang Prabang have been studied by Smalley, W.A., 'Outline of Khmu? Structure, 'American Oriental Society, American Oriental Series Essay No 2, 1961; 'The Khmu? ,' pp. 112-17 in Frank M. LeBar et al, Ethnic G1·oups of Mainland Southeast Asia Human Relations Area Files Press 1964; and 'Cyang : Khmu? Culture Hero,' pp. 41-5 5 in Felicitation Volumes o.f Southeast Asian Stndies Pt·esented to His

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groups 1n Burma include the Palaung and Wa. 3 The Mon-Khmer stratum is generally regarded as relatively old in this part of Southeast Asia, predating the arrival of Tai speakers and more recent arrivals such as Miao, Yao, Lahu and Lisu. Most Mon-Khmer groups INTO NORTH THAILAND

iJS

as many as 100,000 Khmu? in northern Laos, 10 which would make them the largest' Kha' group in the area. According to Smalleyll the name is derived from the indigenous hymlzmu?, meaning 'people.' There is evidence that Khmu? as used at present, may refer to a variety of named groups which differ somewhat as to degree of linguistic and cultural relationship. My data on this point are incomplete; additional field research in Laos would be needed to arrive at any real understanding of the meaning, in cultural terms, of the convenient category label Khmu?. My data do indicate, however, that this term and others such as Pru? and Rook, take on different connotations according to the speaker's perception of self, and the relative status accorded these terms in different cultural settings. Identification with evolving indigenous politico-religious systems, in a manner analogous to the northern Burma situation described by Leach, 1 2 may be a factor here also. The present rather wide destribution of Khmu? speakers indicates an original prototype subsequently in contact with a variety of languages and cultures, with resulting differential acculturation and the evolution of subgroups which the Thai and Lao nowadays lump together as Khamuk or Kha Khamu?. When they come to Thailand members of the various subgroups use only the name Khmu?, in this respect apparently conforming to prevalent Thai usage. According to Smalley the Khmu? term for subgroupings of this kind is tm:J:Jy.l3 Around Luang Prabang and in Sayaboury the Tmooy Mee are most numerous, while the Tmo::Jy Ksak are a smaller subgroup southeast of Luang Prabang. North of the Nam Hou (generally between the Nam Hou and the Nam Tha) Khmu? speakers are reportedly known as Tmooy Rook (in Lao, Hok or Kha Hok). My Thailand informants at times used tumy r:nk, tm:J:JY mee, tm;J:JY klzrong in opposition to tay-haem, i.e., 'strangers' or 'outsiders' 10) Smalley, 'The Khmu?', op. cit. p. 113. This figure agrees closely with the total of various provincial population figures for Khmu? in Halpern, J.M., 'Population Statistics and Associated Data,' Laos Project Paper no 3, Los Angeles, University of California (mimeographed) 1961. 11) Smalley, 'The Khmu?', ojJ. cit. p. 113. 12) Leach, E.R., Political Systems of Highland Burma Harvard University Press 1954. 13) Smalley, 'The Khmu?', op. cit. p. 113.

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(members of an ethnic category or inhabitants of a specific locality} as opposed to 'relative' or 'insider.' The terms tay ('elder brother') and haem ('younger brother') in this context express oneness or ingroup solidarity. They can refer to members of the same or related lineages, and probably by extension to those persons who sacrifice to related ancestral spirits. In a still more extended sense they appear to encompass the idea of 'those who follow the same customs,' i.e., participate in a common ritual tradition. The actual category or group labeled tmx1y this-or-that as opposed to tay-haem seems to depend on the circumstances and self-identification of the speaker at the time. I frequently encountered the term Pru?, used interchangeably with Khmu? as a self-identifier-presumably another somewhat broader term expressive, like tay-haem, of 'selfness' or in-group sentiment. The appellation R::>::>k or Hok can be used broadly to mean 'backwoods' Khmu?, i.e., less acculturated Khmu? speakers wherever they may be; thus acculturated Khmu? living in mixed Lue-Khmu? villages in the middle Yao river valley in Nan Province refer to those on the upper Yao as Tm::>::>y R::>::>k, saying that the latter live higher in the hills and retain more of the old customs including the men's loincloth. 14 In this sense R::>::>k appears to be a generic term or category; I lack the necessary data at present to judge whether there is indeed a specific R::>:>k subgroup inhabiting a definable territory. My data do indicate, however, that Khmu? speakers in the region between the Nam Hou and the Nam Tha are generally called Hok and that this seems to be a rather distinctive culture area. Khmu? in Thailand expressed a feeling of relatively close relationship to Kha Hok; although the Hok have somewhat distinctive customs (possibly customs no longer shared by other Khmu?, particularly those subject to much acculturation) and a slightly different dialect, it was felt that 'we were once probably the same people.' They did not appear to have this feeling about the Lamet. 14) I never met a Khmu? speaker in Thailand who would ide~tlfy himself as Rook or Hok. Although many individuals were pointed out to me as such by other Khmu?, later questioning invariably produced a flat denial. This tends to confirm the supposition that in some circumstances the term carries a pejorative connotation.

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67

North of the Nam Tha, in the region of Vien Phu Kha, Muang Sing, Muang Nam Tha and Muang Sai, Khmu? speakers refer to themselves generically as Khmu? or Pru?, but also distinguish categories such as Khmu? Ui (Lue), Khmu? Yuan and Khwaen (possibly Khuen ). These names apparently reflect culture contact with a variety of Tai-speaking immigrant groups from the Sip Song Panna and northern Thailand. Here the Khmu? by all accounts live in closer contact with a lowland environment and with Buddhist lowlanders. Immigrants into Thailand from this area appear generally more successful (in Thai terms) than those who have come in from south of the Nam Tha, that is from the R::>::>k (Kha Hok) area, the apparent center nowadays of a socio-economic ritual complex involving status mobility through acquisition of wealth, and the consumption and display of wealth at periodic sacrifices to ancestral spirits. Here wealth, in the form of bronze drums, buffaloes and silver, confers a kind of ritual endowment and without it a man cannot perform the proper sacrifices. My data indicate a marked similarity between this Ro::>k or Hok culture type and the Lamet (Khamet or Rlimet) in the mountains south of Tafa on the lower Nam Tha, described by Izikowitz.l5 The cultural parallels are so many, and so detailed, that one wonders whether, in fact, the Lamet and Khmu? should not be considered as originally belonging to the same culture type. Either this, or there has been extensive borrowing by Lamet from Khmu? or vice versa.16 The two languages, although related, are not mutually intelligible-at 15) Izikowitz njJ. cit. 16) Izikowitz (op. cit. table 5 pp. 119-25) presents detailed data on household composition in the Lower Lamet village of Mokala Panghay. Analysis of these data reveals that nine out of a total of 21 households, accounting for 36 percent of the village population, were headed by Khmu? who had immigrated into and married within the village. These Khmu? households were extremely well connected through intermarriage with the families of the village chief, the chief priest and the most powerful of the class of wealthy men, lem. Mokala Panghay is stated by Izikowitz to have been one of the more conservative villages among the Lower Lamet-who in turn are said to be less subject to Khmu? influence than the Upper Lamet to the northeast. In light of the above facts the description of Mokala Panghay might be interpreted as a point in time within an evolving situation wherein a surrounding Khmu? population is gradually expanding and 'Khmuizing' a Lamet minority.

Frank M. LeBar

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least the Khmu? maintain that they cannot understand Lamet. Izikowitz quotes his Lamet as saying that they and the Khmu? are brothers; my informants in Thailand, however, expressed considerably less feeling of relationship vis-a-vis the Lamet. I interviewed and gathered data on over 50 Khmu? immigrant males in various parts of northern Thailand, eighty percent of whom had come originally from the area encompassed between the watersheds of the Nam Tha and Nam Hou. The reason for this may lie simply in the fact that recruitment for the old teak industry could most conveniently draw on this area; but it also appears that this distribution reflects cultural patterns characteristic of the Nam Tha-Nam Hou area, i.e., the ritual importance of wealth, mentioned above, and the emigration of young men to Thailand in order to earn money for the brideprice. In this way the young man is enabled to found a family, the first step toward the cultural goal of becoming a wealthy man able to sacrifice properly to the ancestral spirits. A similar pattern, with emigration of bachelors to Thailand, was observed 30 years ago among the Lamet by Izikowitz.17 The legend of the gourd-an origin legend accounting for the peopling of the earth by Khmu?, Meo, Lao and so on, and containing a deluge motif as well as brother-sister incest-is similar in outline to the same myth as recounted by the Lao .I 8 Although versions I have collected vary in detail, they are also remarkably similar to the origin legend of the Lamet reported by Izikowitz. 19 The Khmu? also tell stories featuring a culture hero, cyang,20 some of which account for culture traits such as the custom of swiddening on the hillsides. Entry into Thailand

The entry of Khmu? into Thailand in relatively large numbers appears to date from about 1880 or 1890, when increasing demands of the European teak firms for forest labor stimulated the annual recruitment of young men from their villages in Laos. Prior to this 17) Izikowitz, oj>.

cit.

18) LeBar and Suddard, of>. cit. p:_8. 19) Izikowitz, oj>, cit. p. 22. 20) Smalley, 'Cyang: Khmu? Culture Hero' op. cit,

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Burmese foresters had for some decades been working the teak forests of North Thailand under concessions granted by the local princes. I have been unable to determine to what extent they might have utilized Khmu? labor. It is reasonable to suppose that the early Lao kingdoms, such as Lanna Thai in the north, made use of 'Kha' tribal peoples as labor in the construction of city walls and as bearers and auxiliary forces during warfare, and that they were obtained during population raids on surrounding territories. There is some evidence that the prince of Nan about 1830 raided up toward the Sip Song Panna, bringing back prisoners of war. And it is said that Khmu? and T'in helped to build the old city walls of Nan. But refugee villages in northern Nan are relatively recent and it is impossible to date the entry of other Khmu? into Nan Province much earlier than about 150 years ago. Recruitment for the Teak Industry

By the 1890's, and continuing into the 1930's, recruitment of teak labor was well organized and on a relatively large scale: During the height of this recruitment period an estimated 300-400 Khmu? entered Chiengrnai annually. World War II interrupted this pattern, but it was renewed on a lesser scale in the years immediately following. With the gradual phasing out of European concessions and the emergence of the government-controlled Forest Industry Association, the old role of the Khmu? as forest labor and mahout has largely been taken over by Northern Thai and Karens. Until the closing of the Lao border in recent years Khmu? continued to come into Thailand in relatively large numbers, chiefly as seasonal hired labor in connection with the tobacco industry. Despite recent restrictions on illegal entry, Khmu? still cross the border and those resident in Thailand have little difficulty communicating with their relatives back in Laos. Recruitment for the teak industry was carried on by naaj h:nj (Thai naaj r:nj, Lao naaj hJJj, 'leader of lOO's' ). These men were themselves Khmu? who had worked in Thailand and knew the routes from Laos to such places as Chiengmai and Lam pang. Young bachelors (average age about 17) were recruited in groups of 15 to 30 or more, chiefly in the Nam Beng-Nam Tha area and to the north as far as

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Phong Saly. Usual routes were either via Chiengsaen to Chiengrai and thence south to Chiengmai via Doi Saket, or else via Chiengkhong or Chiengkham and thence south to Lampang. The naaj hJJj was by agreement responsible to a boy's parents to get him safely to Thailand, find him employment, and at the end of a two or three year period, to bring him back safely to Laos. For this he received a sizeable commission, taken as an advance against the boy's annual wage at time of employment. Having disposed of a group in this fashion, the naaj h:10j returned to Laos where he spent the following season recruiting. These men usually operated within a limited area where they were known and trusted. Their return from this business was not inconsiderable, and some retired with their savings and set themselves up in Thailand as small merchants or traders. On occasion their recruiting activities took them through portions of Burma and it was not uncommon to set oneself up as a trader in Burmese goods, traveling back and forth periodically to Burma for the purpose. As a result, there are Khmu? now resident in Thailand who have some knowledge of Burma or possess contacts there. Some have married Shan or Haw women and are able to speak Burmese, Shan or Haw. In Chiengmai and Lampang, centers for the European teak firms, there developed the institution of the naaj hJJj nyaaj (the 'big' naaj hJJj). These were Khmu? who had 'made good' in Thailandowners of shops and men of considerable prestige among their fellows-to the extent of being well known back in Laos as owners of many bronze drums and other goods so dear to the Klunu?. They acted as 'clearing houses' for new arrivals seeking employment; these were assured a place to stay in the compound of the naaj h:J:Jj nyaaj until they found jobs. In Chiengmai, the original naaj h:J:Jj nyaaj has been dead for some years but another Khmu? shop owner bas inherited this position, and although teak labor recruitment and the organization that went with it have long since disappeared, this man's shop is still a clearing house for news, and for Khmu? moving in and out of Chiengmai. Khmu? who came to Thailand to work received a small annual wage plus housing and rice. Those who managed to save some money used it for the purchase of gongs, drums, cloth or silver and returned

OBSERVATIONS ON THE MOVEMENT OF I. cit.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE MOVEMENT dF KHMU~I INTO NORTH THAILAND

73

in just such positions where they may have worked years for one family. Others are employed as rent collectors in urban markets, a tribute, apparently; to their reputation for honesty. I have been told repeatedly, by Thai and Europeans alike, that Khmu? are easily 'trained' -that they have no self-confidence, no pride, and no ini~ tiative. Those who immigrated during the old teak days, in particular; appear at least outwardly to conform to these stereotypes, seeking situations where they can rely on a protector or employer and it1 which they are required to do little thinking for themselves. Individuals of this type are most often found in urban environments married to Thai women. Their children find jobs in the city, marry other Thai, and pass as khon myang-known as luuk k.mzg ('half-child') only to those acquainted with their history. Many find their way into the foothills or come directly to the hills from Laos, and in these areas they are typically employed as mine or plantation labor. Others have settled permanently in hill villages of mixed Thai and Khmu? ethnicity, engaged in the picking and processing of wild tea, miang. At least two such villages in the hills east of Wiang Pa Pao were reportedly settled first by Khmu? with later Thai increments. In other cases, at the Commune Baw and Yao River areas of Changwat Nan, Khmu? and Thai are found in mixed villages growing rice by supplementary swiddening on surrounding hillsides.23 The Khmu? or part-Khmu? households in these villages resemble those of their Northern Thai neighbors. There is little in the way of house type, furnishings and style of living to distinguish one from the other. In mixed households the husband and wife invariably speak Northern Thai, kam myang; a wife of Northern Thai origin rarely knows more than a few words of Khmu?, and the children even less. Although Khmu? men in these Commune Baw villages told me that they hoped to teach their children the old legends, they affirmed in the same breath that they wanted their children to grow up Thai. Among partly assimilated Khmu? of this type the old 23) For a detailed survey of swiddening in Commune Baw see Judd, L., 'Dry Rice Agriculture in Northern Thailand,' Cornell University Southeast Asia Program, Data Paper no 52, 1964. Judd's Ph. D. dissertation (Cornell University 1961) contains additional information on the history and socioeconomic characteristics of mixed Khmu? ·Thai villages in this area.

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named, totemic patrisibs, ta, although known are no longer functionai and the old ceremonies are fast disappearing. Even in a village such as Wang Maw in Commune Baw, in which 18 of 28 houses contain at least one Khmu? parent, the language is predominantly lwm myang. This is true regardless of whether the husband or the wife is Khmu?. Even in some households in which both are Khmu? (i.e., born in Wang Maw of Khmu? parents) the family reportedly speak Northern Thai together. It would appear that the Khmu? element in such villages will disappear within another two or three generations. When children of these mixed marriages move to the town or city they may (often successfully) pass as Thai, denying entirely their non-Thai heritage. Males who have come alone to Thailand within the past 20 yeare-since World War H-are most often found in urban environments as pedicab drivers or as coolie labor in ice plants, sawmills and rice mills. Those who have married typically have large families of young children. They live precariously in flimsy houses, sometimes crowded together in the compound of a 'patron,' e.g., someone who worked for the old teak firms and associated with Kbmu?. They may seek. release in alcohol and at times find themselves in trouble with the law. They are not as settled as their older compatriots, the holdovers from the old teak days, who may own their own homes or perhaps a shop and who enjoy the respect of the Khmu? community and are at least accepted as 'honest Khmu?' by the Thai. Among the newer arrivals the youngsters of 18 or 19 and the young men of 20 or 25-resident in Thailand for a decade or lessappear the least settled of all. Frequently 'caught' in Thailand by the turn of political developments in Laos, they have few remaining ties at home and have not yet put down roots in Thailand. Relatively few are married; they live, often together in groups, on the compounds where they work-gasoline stations, tobacco stations, hotels, and the like. The Patron Relationship It is my impression that a good many Khmu? situations in northern Thailand are structured around what might be called a patron relationship, whereby an individual subordinates himself to a

O!ISEH\' AT IONS ON '!'!IE

~!OVEMENT

OF KHi\!U'I INTO NOH Til TllAlLANll

75

person of some wealth or influence in return for a kind of paternalistic care and patronage-ranging from economic security to the making of marital arrangements and provisions for educating children. Khmu? of the older type, in particular, appear to seek relationships of this kind, and a single relationship may ramify to include a succession of individuals over a period of several decades. It is not infrequently the case that contemporary residence patterns among Kbmu?, as in Chiengmai, reflect the existence of patron relationships no longer active. This pattern may represent the adaption of a somewhat similar arrangement in northern Laos, the institution of the lam, whereby wealthy or influential Lao acted as middlemen and protectors for populations of hill tribesmen in their trading relations with low landers. My informants were unable to confirm this pattern in Laos, but it is mentioned for Khmu? north of Luang Prabang by Halpern. 24 Alternatively, the patron relationship as I found it may be related to much older patterns of feudal patronage in Thai society.

Marriage The male Khmu? physical type is not markedly different from that of the Northern Thai, particularly those Northern Thai who are themselves by all accounts the result of mixture with an older Austroasiatic stratum, chiefly Lua?. That is to say, many Khmu? would fall well within the range of the Northern Thai somatotype. The Khmu? on the whole have darker skins than the Thai, but there are Thai with skins as dark as most Khmu?. Kbmu? men on the whole appear to vary in stature more than do Thai men as a whole, but again there are many who are well within the Thai average. Khmu? faces are characteristically somewhat 'craggy' in appearance, with prominant supraorbital ridges, deep set eyes, heavy cheek bones and rather wide nostrils. But again, these features are present, either singly or in combination, in many rural Thai faces. These considerations have probably contributed to the relative ease with which Khmu? and other Moo-Khmer speakers have intermarried with Thai, and the impressive number of such unions over the years. It would 24) Halpern, 'Trade Patterns in Northern Laos', op. cit,

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also seem a reasonable supposition that the Khmu? genotype, when mixed with that of the Northern Thai, would produce offspring more 'Thai' in appearance then would, for example, that of a Mea-Northern Thai intermarriage. Given this relative similarity of physical type, it follows that there are Khmu? who, if dressed in Thai costume, could pass on first inspection as Thai. The real test, and the one actually used by most Northern Thai, is that of language, i.e., degree of accent and knowledge of stereotyped speech patterns. Most males among Khmu? and other hill tribes speak some Northern Thai, but usually with an easily detectable accent. The Thai ear is keenly attuned to slight differences and nuances in speech and many of the standard ethnic jokes poke fun at the person's accent or misuse of words. The Thai enjoy playing with words and with double meanings-most of which is lost on the tribesman who knows only market Thai. But there are Khmu? who, if they learn kam myang sufficiently well, can relatively easily pass as khan myang. And the children of Khmu? men married to Northern Thai women invariably grow up speaking Northern Thai at home and with their peers -usually children of Thai or part-Thai parentage. Immigrant Kbmu? marrird to Thai women tend to marry somewhat outside the normal Thai pattern. Their wives are very often girls who have left their own families or whose parents are no longer living-girls who have migrated into urban centers to find work and who live (like the Khmu?) within the compound of the family or firm employing them. In about 10 per cent of my cases the girl's parents (either one or both) are non-Thai, e.g., Karen, Haw Chinese, Khmu?. However, cases of intermarriage among descendants of Khmu? are relatively rare. As a result of this marriage pattern most families live neolocally, i.e., apart from the families of either the husband or wife. Moreover the wife's family is frequently poor or far away and visiting back and forth rare or completely absent. As a result the children of such marriages are not normally reared within an extended family milieu-as is the case with many Northern Thai

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77

marriages where the couple live near or with the wife's parents. Intensive research within a sample of such households would be needed in order to state with any degree of assurance the meaning of this pattern for the psychocultural development of offspring, and whether assimilation necessarily takes place more or less rapidly under such circumstances. The influence of the Thai wife in a situation of this kind may in fact be even stronger than it is normally. Presumably a naturally strong presonality, when thrown on its own in this fashion, would react with assertiveness and vigor. The Desire to Emigrate

The fact that Khmu? males do leave their home villages is well established. There are probably a number of reasons, some of them undoubtedly interrelated, for this observed phenomenon. It may be, for example, that this pattern is not unrelated to the pai thiaw pattern among Tai-speaking lowlanders 25 whereby young men before marriage go off seeking wage labor or simply to have fun and 'see the world.' The desire for fun and adventure was also a motivating factor in a number of the life histories I collected among Khmu? immigrant males in North Thailand. From this standpoint the emigration of young men could be regarded as at least in part an expression of a cultural pattern learned in Laos by association with Lao, Lue and other lowland Tai speakers. However, I am inclined to think that there may be additional explanations for this emigrating tendency among Khmu?. I would mention two in particular: Ecological and cultural correlates of intermediate zone occupation

The Laos Khmu?, like most other Man-Khmer tribes, occupy an intermediate zone of low forested hills, above the plains-dwelling Lao and Lue but below the mountain-dwelling Miao and Yao. This is by all accounts an ecologically disadvantageous zone, a prime breeder of malaria vectors and a poor area for agriculture due to 25) For a discussion of jJai tlziaw in northeastern Thailand, see Kirsch, A.T.• 'Development and Mobility among the Phu Thai of Northeast Thailand,' Paper read at the Annual Meeting, Association for Asian Studies, New York 1966.

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dense jungle regrowth and the ravages of insect pests and animals. Culturally, it may be considered a primary contact zone-the meeting place of lowland traders going up into the hills and mountain peoples coming down to the plains. Considerable mobility and contact of diverse ethnic groups characterize this zone, particularly during the dry season; and culture contact and the need to communicate for purposes of trade fosters multi-lingualism. This diversity and intensity of outside stimuli might be supposed over time to have contributed to cultural fragmentation and a certain loss of cultural identity-thus predisposing these intermediate zone inhabitants to the adoption of alien values and to migration out of their ecologically disadvantageous habitat to the plains below-where they undergo rapid absorption by dominant lowlanders such as the Lue and Lao. Disruption of indigenous culture patterns

The Khmu? cultural inventory was presumably at one time richer than it appears in many areas today. Judging from what informants were able to tell me, the indigenous culture pattern south of the Nam Tha resembles strongly that of the Lamet in the same general area. Prominant in both cultures is a socioeconomic ritual complex involving status mobility through acquisition of wealth and an attempt to control wealth by marriage within related families. The desire for wealth-· in order to contract an advantageous marriage, achieve status as a 'wealthy man,' and honor the family ancestors in periodic sacrificial feasts and ceremonies-motivates a large segment of behavior in both Khmu? and Lamet. It is possible that this traditional pattern was undergoing disruptive changes, or was experiencing the culmination of a series of such changes, about the time that the teak industry expanded in North Thailand with a consequent demand for immigrant labor. The gradual expansion of the Lao northward, the coming of the French, increasing contacts with Thailand, the gradual introduction of a money economy, changes in traditional trading patterns, new markets and lessened demand for traditional products from the hills-all these could have bad a disruptive effect on the old patterns whereby new wealth was brought into the system, As a result young men, in

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79

particular, were motivated to go outside in search of new sources of wealth with which to return and participate effectively in the traditional and expected fashion. Certain it is that in the 1930's Izikowitz found Lamet young men eager to go to Thailand to earn money with which to purchase bronze drums and other forms of wealth; and my Khmu? life histories collected in Thailand contain many references to precisely this same behavior, similarly motivated. In summary, the study of Khmu? culture presents a number of challenging problems-in the field of ethnohistory as well as the dynamics of culture contact and acculturation-meriting more attention from ethnographers and ethnologists than it has thus far received. Their scattered and marginal situation in a war-torn land would certainly place the Khmu? high on the list of 'fast disappearing cultures' deserving of more intensive field work.

NOTES AND COMMENTS

NOTES ON POTTERY MANUFACTURE NEAR LUANG PRABANG, LAOS Wilhelm G. Solheim II University of Hawaii

The pottery making hamlet of Ban Phan Luang, across a tributary river of the Mekong from Luang Prabang, on the road to the airport, was visited on the 9th of March 1964. Numerous houses on either side of the road were the homes of potters and several potters were working at their trade. One potter was watched and questioned about pottery manufacture and a second was questioned to see whether her method of manufacture varried to any extent from the first. No firing of pottery was observed. The clay is gathered by the women, sometimes helped by the men, from a field near the airport. Two carrying baskets full are gathered at one time and brought back to the potter's borne using a shoulder pole. The clay is available to any one who wishes to gather it and nothing is left for the spirits, or otherwise, at the field from which it is gathered. The clay is left in the baskets to dry or is dumped out on the ground to dry. When it is dry it is pounded in a foot-power rice mortar. A mortar used to pound clay is never used to pound rice. After pounding the clay is sifted in a basket sieve. Preparing it for potting, the dry sifted clay is mixed with water on a flat board. As she mixes the clay the potter adds river sand until it feels right. Enough clay for about 15 medium sized pots is prepared at one time. When the clay has been prepared the potter takes a mass of clay and with her hands alone forms a thick walled, hollow clay cylinder. This she places on a sack under the house and covers with a large cloth to keep it damp while she does the same with the rest of the clay that was prepared. The manufacture proceeds in stages. At each stage the vessel to be is modified and put aside as the next vessel is attended to. Only when all have been completed is the next

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Wilhelm G. Solheim II

stage begun. Pottery at several different stages is usually present under or near the house. The next stage makes use of a wheel. This is not a true potter's wheel as it is not spun rapidly so that the pot can be thrown. Instead, it is turned slowly using the toes of either foot. The wheel is made of wood with a disk, on top, fastened to a solid bowl-shaped piece below. In the bottom of this lower piece is a slightly tapered hole in which fits the pivot (figure 1). The pivot is set firmly in the ground and the lower wooden piece turns on this pivot.

Figure 1 Cross section of the slow wheel used by a potter in Ban Phan Luang, Laos.

The hollow clay cylinder is firmly set on the wheel by pressing some of the clay at the base of the cylinder onto the disk. Using a plain bamboo paddle and a stone anvil the potter first evens the top (plate Ia) and then expands and forms up the upper portion of the vessel. She hits with the paddle on the outer surface while holding the anvil against the inner surface opposite the spot hit by the paddle. To keep the clay from sticking, the paddle is frequently dipped in a pot of water kept near at hand; the anvil is moistened using the wet paddle. The lower third of the vessel is not formed or expanded at this time. When the upper portion of the vessel is at about the desired size the top edge is gently patted even with the paddle, the stone anvil is put down, and, using the hand on the inside and the paddle outside, the top t'wo to four centimeters is formed slightly outwards (plate Ib). A small strip of wet fabric is then placed between the thumb and the

NUTJo:ti ON POTTERY MANLiJ.'AC'l'UHE NEAl\ LUANG l'HABANG, LAOS

83

other fingers and while the wheel is turned the rim is formed further outward, making an everted rim. The final slight ridge on the inner edge of the rim is formed using the fingers of both hands while the pot and wheel are being turned by the foot (plate Ira). When the rim is completed the potter smooths the upper portion of the vessel with the wet strip of cloth in one hand on the outside and the fingers of the other hand against the inside as the vessel goes around. When this is done the vessel is placed on a burlap bag under the house and allowed to dry until the next day. The upper two-thirds of the vessel is now finished but the bottom portion is still the thick open cylinder of its first form. After it has dried for the day the top, thin portion is leather hard but the bottom thick clay is still plastic. The potter sits cross legged under the house, takes the partially completed vessel in her lap, and with the same paddle and anvil as used before, closes over and forms the rounded bottom of the pot, turning it around in her lap as she works. When this is done the new completely formed pot is placed in the sun to dry for a day. The group of pots that was formed together is fired together. The firing area is u flat spot across the road from the house. There arc many different firing areas in the village. Two logs, about 15 em in diameter, are placed parallel on the ground. If logs are not available, two pieces of bamboo of about the same size will do. The pots are placed upside down, in one row, on top of the logs. This is then covered with grass and fired. This burns slowly, with little flame, for an hour to an hour-and-a-half. No fuel is added after the fire is started. The vessels are left in place after the firing and allowed to cool for two to three hours and then are carried by hand and stored under the house. According to reports it is rare that pots break during firing but sometimes one or two may break. This is explained to be the result of poor mixing of the clay and sand. Several different forms and sizes are made, some with a simple applique handle on the rim, and in rare cases a smal~ applique ring foot (plate Hb).

84

Wilhelm G. Solheim If

Comparison of the methods used by the second potter to those of the first showed only one minor difference bet ween the two. The second potter occasionally used a paddle with numerous small holes drilled into one side instead of with two plain surfaces. This left small knobs on the surface of the vessel on which it was used. All potters in this hamlet are women. The men may help in the gathering of the clay and in the firing, but that is all. The potter questioned learned how to make pottery from her mother. She had been born in this hamlet and was married to a man from the same hamlet. According to this woman, pottery was invented by a local woman over 100 years ago. The apparant complete lack of superstition connected with pottery manufacture here and the straightforward explanation for any breakage that might occur during firing is unusual. It could be that such supperstition has recently disappeared or it may be the knowledge of pottery manufacture was only recently acquired by these people. The fact that the origin of pottery is placed back only a bout 100 years could mean that a potter from elsewhere married into the village and introduced pottery manufacture only three or four generations ago. There is very little specific difference between the pottery manufacture of Ban Phan Luang and that described for Nong-Ane, several hundred kilometers to the southeast in Laos. I While generally similar to pottery manufacture at Ban Nong Sua Kin Main northeastern Thailand 2 there are several specific differences. It appears that the pottery manufacture of Ban Phan Luang is more closely and directly related to that of Nong-Ane than it is to that of Ban Nong, even though the latter is closer.

1} Colani, M., Precedes de Decoration d'un Potier de Village (Cammon-Laos) BEFEO vol31, 1931 pp. 499-501. 2) Solheim .n' w,.o., 'Pottery Ma~ufac,ture in Sting Morand Ban Nong Sua Kin Ma, Tha1land Journal of the Szam .~ociety vol 52 no 2, 1964 pp. 151-61.

a

Beginning the first forming of a hoHow clay cylinder into a pot.

h

Starting to form the rim of a vessel, while turning on the wheel. Plate I

a Completing the rim of a vessel (not the same vessel as pictured in Plate lf,).

b Several different forms and sizes of pottery made by one potter in Ban Phan Luang. Plate II

MOLDS FOR BRONZE CASTING FOUND IN NORTHEASTERN THAILAND by

Wilhelm G. Solheim II Uuil·ersity of Hawaii

Four sandstone molds have been discovered in excavation and testing at the site of Ban Nadi in northeastern Thailand. The context under which three of these molds were found indicates that they came from the first and possibly the second of several archaeological levels in which there is indisputable evidence of bronze working and from which no iron remains of any kind have been recovered or indicated. Ban Nadi is a village of Amphur Phu Wiang, Changwat Khonlwen. By road it is 85 kilometers from Khonkaen, to the northwest, and it is located a few kilometers to the west of what will be the western shore of the reservoir backed up by the lJbolrot (Nnm Pong, Pong Neeb) Dam. The archaeological site, at present referred to as Ban Nadi, was discovered in May 1964 by the Fine Arts DepartmentUniversity of Hawaii Archaeological Salvage Program in Northeastern Thailand.l The site was tested in January-February 1965, and excavation began in December 1965, continuing to the end of April 1966. The first mold found in the excavation (plate 1) was discovered on the 25th of February 1966. It was found just at the edge of a disturbance on the east side of Square C5, lying directly on the surface of Layer 20. The two halves of the mold were lying face to face so that inside there was a mud cast of an axe. The mold is made from a grey-brown medium gained sandstone which has a slight greenish tint on the outer surface and the inner flat face. The inner surface where the cast was formed is grey to black. There are several small bright green stains on the outer surface which are thought to be from corroded bronze. The cross section of the two molds together, taken perpendicular to the length of the mold, is oval. The total1ength of the two halves vary from 106.7 to 109.1 mm. Thanks to members of See : Solheim II, W.G., Gorman, C.F., 'Archaeological Salvage Program; North-eastern Thailand- First Season', Jozmzal of the Siam Society vol 54 pt 2, 1956 pp. 176-77 and plate XXVq-u.

88

Wilhelm G. Solheim H

a

the second Thai-Danish Archaeological Expedition in Thailand, plaster cast was made using this mold. The maximum width of the cast, at the angles of the bit, is 66.5 mm. The second mold (plate II) was discovered on the 28th of February in a complex disturbance not far from where the first mold was found. It appeared to have come from Layer 20, though the nature of the disturbance in which it was found makes this uncertain. The two halves of this mold were also found face to face. This mold was made from the same brownish-grey sandstone as the first, without the greenish tint of the first, but with small bright green stains on its outer surface like the first. The maximum length of the two halves of the mold are 126.6 and 130.5 rum. The maximum width at the top of the mold is 152.3 mm. A plaster cast was made using this mold as well but the blade of the object cast was so thin that it broke as it was being removed from the mold. The maximum length of the sharp edge of this object is 135.4 mm.

A third mold, apparently made from the same sandstone, was found in the same square in March. This mold was similar to the first mold except that the surface of the cast is badly erroded. In late June 1966, while preparing bag lists of the collections to be sent back to the University of Hawaii for study and exhibition, a fourth mold was discovered from Ban Nadi. This had been found during the second season's testing of this site and had not been noticed by the members of the third season's expedition. This mold (plate III) had been found in one of the five test pits excavated at various locations on the mound of Ban Nadi. The test pit in which this mold was found was a little over one meter to the north of Square CS where the other three molds were found. There was not time to make measurements and a description of this mold and to look up in the second season's notes the circumstances of its discovery. From the very brief examination that was made of it, it could be seen that it was made from a different kind of sandstone than the other three and that it was of a different style from the others. The first two molds here presented have been left with the National Museum in Bangkok while the second two are being taken to Hawaii for further study and will be returned to the National Museum after the study has been completed.

Plate I The casting faces of a sandstone mold found in excavation at Ban Nadi, Khonkaen (Northeastern Thailand) and a plaster cast made from this mold.

Plate II

The casting face of one half and the outer face of the other half of a sandstone mold found in excavation at Ban Nadi. The casting face of the second half is almost exactly the same as that of the first half except that the curved lines roughly parallel with the sides of the blade are not present.

Plate III The casting faces of a sandstone mold found in test excavation in 1965 at Ban Nadi.

I

j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j j J

A NOTE ON SHIFTING CULTIVATION AND SETTLEMENT by

Douglas Miles Tribal Research Centre, Chiengmai

Shifting cultivation is a prevalent form of agriculture in the hills of northern Thailand and the highlands of neighbouring countries. This method of rice growing entails use of 'impermanent clearings' which are cropped 'for shorter periods in years than they are left fallowed. •1 It is frequently associated with dispersed and temporary settlement which hinders effective implementation of administrative, educational and health policies. One proposed solution to this problem in Thailand has aimed at concentrating scattered populations of shifting cultivators in large, permanent villages. It is therefore relevant to examine conditions favorable to nucleated settlement in other parts of Southeast Asia where people depend on the slash-and-burn technique for their staple. This paper discusses the Upper Mentayan subdistrict of Central Kalimantan, one of the four provinces of Indonesian Borneo.2 There are fifty-six local communities with a total population of 12,332. Over one third of the shifting cultivators live in seven villages where they have invested capital in the purchase or construction of durable dwellings standing together on the river bank. I call these settlements market centres; they have been occupied throughout the last seventy years; they have the highest per capita rice output in the subdistrict. The following comparison of a market centre with another community has two aims: to highlight factors encouraging shifting cultivators to live permanently in the nucleus of a settlement and to explain their agricultural success under these circumstances. I suggest that farmers depending on the slash-and-burn technique will voluntarily maintain --------·-·--·-·----·-------------·-· 1) Conklin, H. C., 'The Study of Shifting Cultivation' Current Anthropology Feb 1961 p. 1. 2) I spent twenty-six months in the province during two fieldwork periods in 1959-60 and 1961-63. For other information on the Upper Mentaya see: Miles, D.J., Oceania vol 35 no 3, vol 35 no 5, vol36 no 2 and vol 37 no 1.

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Douglas Miles

such residence patterns only under conditions which promote their rice productivity. Fundamental to the following discussion is the simple distinction between places of work and abode, also the fact that it may not be necessary for man to have his home in each place where he works. Typically, the Upper Mentayan community consists of two elements: a single nucleus or core where dwellings have a predominantly domestic function, and hamlets of huts near swiddens in the surrounding jungle Each household has a hut abandoned as regularly as the unit moves to a new farming site. For some, this temporary dwelling is their home; but for others it is merely a camp shelter. The latter have an additional dwelling in the nucleus where they keep their furniture and other valued belongings and where elders and children may live throughout the whole year. The comparison of the two communities of Tumbang Gagu and Kuala Karis explains why some people have dwellings in the nucleus while others do not. All commercial transport is riverine. Tumbang Gagu is upstream from rapids which are often impassable to cargo boats. The difficulties of communication with metropolitan centres on Borneo's southern coast prevent traders either establishing residence in the community or visiting it frequently. The only non-agricultural employment available to the people is jungle produce collecting and rattan cutting; when prices for these are low they have no other source of income. Kuala Karis like each of the market centres is downstream from the rapids; several traders live there. They purchase local produce (such as rattan, rubber, timbers, resins and oil nuts) which they export to the town of Sampit in the Mentayan delta. The traders have become the focus of a complex network of occupational relationships. They offer opportunities to farmers for part-time wage labour in stevedoring and treating jungle produce. They sign contracts with timber millers who are usually carpenters and builders as well. Other occupations include blacksmiths who work for the traders, teachers, government officials, professional hunters and fishermen. Most of these people have rice swiddens.

A NOTE ON SHIFTING GULTIVA TION AND SETTLEMENT

95

The farmers in Kuala Karis have an incentive to live near the trade store in the mucleus. Profits from employment enable them buy the materials and hire the carpenters to build a durable house. In contrast, most people in Tumbang Gagu reside in their farm huts continuously. Not only is the construction of a permanent dwelling an unprofitable investment but they have fewer means of acquiring the necessary capital. Differences in the commercial development of the two communities have had a marked effect on their recent histories. The original inhabitants of Tumbang Gagu built a longhouse which still stands in a dilapidated state. More than half of those who have inherited rights to the apartments never exercise tbem because there is no incentive counteracting the inconvenience of travelling back and forth between the longbouse and their farms. The dispersal of the Tumbang Gagu community fits in with standard theories of shifting cultivation which emphasise that the inevitable siting of swiddens at distances from a residential nucleus gives rise to fission. 3 But around Kuala Karis the opposite process bas been in operation. When traders opened stores in the village there were two communities called Tumbang Sapiri and Tasik Brahim respectively situated downstream and upstream. Farms of people living in these settlements were further from the market centre than their nuclei. In the last fifty years these distances have increased threefold. The core of Tasik Brahim has disappeared leaving graves only; the nucleus of Tum bang Sapiri has reduced from about thirty to five houses. This phenomenon is not a result of emigration to swiddens. In fact most of the people have abandoned their rights in the nuclei of their own communities to establish similar rights in Kuala Karis. In other words they have migrated in the opposite direction from that in which their swiddens are located. The availability of work in the market centre has a stronger influence on where they live than convenience to their farms. 3) See for example: Geddes, W.R., The Land Dayaks of Sarawak London, Her Majesty's Stationery Office; Gourou, P., The Tropical World Transl. by E.D. Laborde, London, Longman, Green and Co.

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Residence at distances from swiddcns does not necessarily interfere with agricultural success. Kuala Karis has a higher per capita rice output than Tum bang Gagu. Some comments on the Upper Mentayan cultivation calendar and the organisation of labour shall explain this fact. Rice growing entails periods of intense production followed by intervals when little work need be done in the swiddens. There are three main phases: clearing, burning-planting and harvesting. Late September to early October is critical. The weather is dry in early September and wet in late October; planting must be completed within about ten days of burning or weeds sprouting in the fertile ash will choke the rice shoots. The farmer needs to exploit both dry and wet weather and to exercise skill in selecting the appropriate time to fire the swidden. [f he burns and plants it too far in advance of the rain the seedlings will die, and if he postpones firing too long the rubbish will be too wet to burn. Hence the clearing must be timed accurately as well. A farmer working primary jungle must finish by May or June if the logs are to be dry by September. In secondary jungle timber is lighter and the work may be left another month. Harvesting takes place as soon as the padi is ripe to prevent loss from disease, birds and other animals. The season extends from January to April depending on the variety of seed planted. Thus seasonal, botanical and pestilence factors determine when various jobs are done. The table summarising the above comments indicates the months farmers are free from the jobs just discussed. It shows that main phase production entails a maximum of seven months per year-assuming that each of the jobs continues throughout the whole of the month in which they take place. In fact, the variables just mentioned and size of labour force may shorten this time considerably. To what extent does cultivation require work in the intermediary periods? In 1962 two Kuala Karis neighbours prepared swiddens of ap· proximately the same size. One followed up the felling of timber with the work of breaking up tree trunks and the .distribution of timber;

CALENDAR OF THE MAIN PHASES OF CULTIVATION Secondary Jungle

Primary Jungle

Quick Crop

Slow Crop

Quick Crop

-----

I

MONTH January

Minimum Activity

Maximum Activity

Minimum Activity

Maximum Activity

Harvest

Harvest

-

-

'---------~--

--

February

- \ ------\

March

-

April

-

Harvest

I I

-

i

. Harvest

Harves~--~--~arve~ i

-

I

~-~i;a~i~;-

~learing I

\:~~earin~-~--==earin:__ I I -

Clearing Clearing \ Clearing 1-----: ~-----1---

May June July

i

~~-----

August

I

September ---~-----

----

Clearing -

-~-~-----=--~---~]_--__---_-··= Burning & I Burning & I Burning & I Burning & Planting \ Planting \ Planting . Planting

,_

-

-_---~-B_u_rn_i-ng_&_l_________ -~

October Planting

------November December Total number of months in which work is carried out ----~-

I

-

-

4

6

--------1

Burning &

\____

----~-!~~~-~:__

I -

I___=-_ ----

I

II

i

-

-

-----

4

7 1

I



;~--------

I

,. Harvest

-----~----

1

I

-

I __ ,__

-

I

--~------1

--~--~-llarv~st_( ___ =____ /_H_arv_e_s_t

_

I

-

I--

-~

-

[ Harvest

I Harvest

-~·---------1----'

Harvest

'



Activity , Activity , Activity \ Activity

:---~--1------·- 1-

1

-

Minim:m-~-~~~:~~ ~~-~~~~m~:-~-rvl~-Xl-.mum Harvest

------

Slow Crop

-!--

=- - -i

-

-

-

II--C-le_a_r_i_n_g

i

I

i

-

[

Harvest

-~~-----t----'

l

--~-~~earing-1

-

1----~--

I I"

Clearing

-

Clearing

1--------~-~-~-~----1, -

-

I

~------~~---) Burning & ) Burning &

_Planti~~-~ Plantin~--~

-

I

-

I

-

!

-

1---·'· Burning & Planting

i Burning &

~~l~ting _

I

Burning & Burning & I' Burning & _______ [_PI_a_nt_in_g__ \ Plantin_~ Planting

-

'--- -=---~~-- ] 3

5

!

•·

I'

-

l

-

-~j---_4

6

98

Douglas

Mile~

the other did not. The firing of the first farm was considered very successful. But the second was still strewn with partially burnt logs not only reducing the area but also creating difficulties for planters. The result was that a small group planted the former in one day whereas the latter took two days even after the engagement of nearly twice as many helpers. I stress that the benefits of this intermediary work entailed only short periods of irregular labour. Most farmers like to have a hut ready before planting begins but as building must be delayed till after burning, the job of construction must be done quickly. Another task completed at leisure is the erection of fences to keep out wild pig and deer. Weeding is necessary only in swiddens located in recently regenerated secondary jungle. When land has lain fallow for a long time only the weeds which sprout when the rice seedlings are young need removal. In sum, people are free from all but intermittent tasks for at least five months but can extend this by accurate timing and careful selection ofland and seed. Differences in the extent to which farmers make profits in non-agricultural labour may not only further reduce the time they spend in swiddens but also enable them to increase their rice output. Agricultural production is bound up with the number of people engaged during the clearing, planting and harvesting of a swidden. Some households exchange· man-days with their neighbours in the hamlets; but such arrangements are strictly reciprocal so participants mever receive more days of help than they work themselves. Other households exceed the physical limits of their own membership by paying for additional help which they do not have to reciprocate. Their output depends largely on the amount of capital they can devote to this purpose. The Kuala Karis farmer with the biggest harvest in 1961 spent only eighteen days in his swidden which was one of the furthest from the nucleus. He used profits from a prosperous sawmill in the village core (where he worked most of the year) to engage more than three hundred hands on some of these occasions. He borrowed a large motor-powered canoe from the captain of a trading vessel and ran a

A Nll'!'E ON SIIJFT!NL CULTIVATION AND SETTLEMENT

99

shuttle service between the core and the farm. His family never slept on the swidden but commuted on each day of work. Earnings from part-time labour enable Kuala Karis farmers to clear larger areas, plant more seed and suffer less crop loss than their Tum bang Gagu counterparts all of whom exchange man-days. The difficulties of communication obstruct the establishment of trade stores above the rapids and reduce the opportunity to use intervals in the cultivation cycle to enhance intensity of rice production. The dependence on man-day exchanges necessitates longer periods of time in the swiddens. We may conclude, then, that shifting cultivation and sedentary residence are compatible under conditions favorable to commercial development. The presence of traders in a community provides both the incentive and the opportunity for people to build durable dwellings of value; at the same time it facilitates accumulation of capital which can be devoted to agricultural purposes. It is to be stressed that a highly nucleated settlement of shifting cultivators has little chance of surviving as a self-sufficient economic entity where difficulties of communication prevent market employment openings.

SOCIOLOGY AND RELIGION IN THAILAND: A CRITIQUE by

J.A. N.

Mulder

Amsterdam

This note is divided into two parts. The first surveys the position of the Sangha (Buddhist Monk hood) in Thai society as it emerges from the relevant social science literature and the almost daily publications in the Thai newspapers about the Sangha and religion. The second suggests the theoretical approach that should be used for meaningful sociological study of Buddhism in Thailand. As the comments here are of a very general nature, I did not think it necessary to refer to specific evidence in the literature. The sources that influenced my thinking are in the appended Selected Bibliography. Survey of the Position of the Sangha in Thai Society

Firstly, Hinayana Buddhism is the state religion of Thailand. Other religions, especially Islam in the South and the Chinese religious complex, are represented, but their followers make up less than 7 percent of the population. The ethnic Thai are, with the exception of a few Christians, all Buddhists. In popular thinking being a Thai is equated with being a Buddhist. Secondly, all authors on Thailand agree on the importance of Buddhism in Thai social life and action. Yet a sociology of Thai Buddhism is conspicuous by its absence. 'Buddhism in Thailand is a peculiar structure of ideas and value attitudes which forms the ethical pattern of national behavior. Buddhism in this sense is a vital part of life. It is difficult to overestimate its importance, just as it is difficult, unfortunately, to analyse and measure its role' (Wilson, 1960 p. 69 ). Thirdly, it is generally thought that Buddhism is the key to the Thai value-system. As a religion and a guiding ethic it enjoys great prestige. This prestige is shared by Buddhist institutions and

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customs. The focal point of Thai Buddhism is in the Sangha. The Sangha is the living embodiment of Thai social ideals and values. With a permanent membership of approximately 150,000 ordained priests (monks) and an additional90,000 novices the Sangha is one of the most important national groupings in Thailand and certainly the most visible of them. Fourthly, eighty-five percent of the population of Thailand lives in villages. The religious and social life of the villages centers around the wat (temple) and its resident Sangha. The wat with its Sangha holds a multitude of social functions for the village people; the monks are the spiritual leaders of the village community. All scholars who have written on Thai village life are definite in asserting that the Sangha has decisive influence on social action in the villages. Fifthly, Thai political structure, especially at the highest levels, has an important religious dimension. Through its Department of Religious Affairs in the Ministry of Education, which serves as office of Secretary-General of the Sangha, the religious organisation is closely supervised by the government. The close integration of religious and political institutions gives the Sangha at the higher structural levels a public or official nature. The Sangha is a hierarchically organised body whose administrative structure closely parallels that of the civil government at all levels. Sixthly, yet the Sangha enjoys remarkable autonomy and independence, as it is generously supported by and recruited from the entire Buddhist population. At the village level the worshippers are relatives of the monks, and monks and laity are linked together by ties of custom and reciprocal services. Seventhly, though officially not of this world, the Sangha is traditionally deeply involved in lay-affairs: religious and secular activities can hardly be separated in communities that are integrated around their wats. For the implementation of its policies and programs the go_vernment feels that it needs the cooperation of the Sangha. The pnests are informally consulted on all matters of village life; their

tiOClOLOGY AND HELIGJUN IN THAILAND: A CRITIQUE

103

cooperation is sought in Community Development and other modernisation activities; in some instances the priests are reported to give active guidance to such activities; the Sangha is to be associated with old and new symbols of nationalism; specially trained priests are sent from Bangkok to go on a kind of moral re-armament mission ih those areas that are threatened by communist subversion (but also the Communists are known to have exploited the influence of the monkhood by propagating communism in the guise of genuine monks); in Bangkok, priests are specially trained to be stationed in the countryside to foster higher moral and educational standards throughout the monkhood; their traditional role in education is being revitalised as priests are encouraged to study for a teacher's certificate and will be enabled to teach in ordinary schools. 'The wat (Sangha) is politically and socially important in the new as well as in the old type of Thai village. No community program can succeed without its approval. Some sort of religious service accompanies the announcement of any new measure by the central government to gain for its decrees and programs the aura of the wat's ( Sangha's) sanction' (de Young, 1955 p. 148). In sum, religion has always been an integrated part of the Thai political system; at the village level it has always been an integrated part of life. Nowadays the social involvement of the Sangha is acquiring new dimensions; the Sangha tends towards a new professionalism as its social role and position are more precisely defined; on the lower levels of the hierarchy its involvement in national programs is new. The Sociological Approach to Religion in Thailand Until recently the study of Thai society has been characterised by a culture-and-personality approach, in which the terms 'Buddhism' and 'Buddhist values' have been profusely used to 'explain' social phenomena and the Thai social process. Strange as it may appear then, neither Thai Buddhism, nor its values, have yet been studied systematically. These comments argue for a structural approach towards the study of Thai Buddhism and its values, while stressing the fallacy of

io4

J.A.N. Mulder

relating religion, or central values, too easily to social reality. It is expected that a structural approach will lead to a realistic appraisal of how and where religion operates in Thai society. Especially in the search for factors conditioning economic development much attention has been paid to the role that the central value-system of a society may play in such development. Yet very little is known about the relationships between value-systems and social action in general or economic action specifically. A central value-system of a society may be defined as the most generalised orientations toward human action prevalent in such a society, and it is often thought that religion may play a dominant role in shaping a value-system. The relationships between those most generalised orientations and concrete social action arc subtle and hardly ever obvious. Weber made quite a strong case for the interrelation of religious ideas and economic behavior; The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism has influenced many scholars in this line of thinking. The way in which Weber related a macro-sociological phenomenon like a religious value-system with observable social behavior shows great scholarship. His argument included a host of variables, including structural aspects like the social organisation of Puritan Protestantism. He never stated that the Protestant Ethic was the cause of the Spirit of Capitalism; be merely defined a problem for further investigation. Besides this he had the great advantage of being intimately familiar with the spirit of capitalism and the protestant ethic that he studied and, with all the scholarly qualities of his reasoning one should realise that the way in which he reached his conclusions was a post factum procedure. Since Weber wrote, much knowledge, theoretical as well as empirical, has accumulated on the issue of the relationship between religious ideas/values and social, mainly economic behavior, and the issue has become much more complicated and far less clear. Yet nobody would deny that beliefs, religious or other, influence social beha.vior and may sometimes have a compelling motivating power. But JUSt when, where, how, under what conditions and to what extent,

SOCIOLOUY AND l\ELIGION IN THAILAND: A CIUTIQUE

105

is not known. And everytime the relationship is demonstrated, it is done post jactwn. The available material allows for barely more than the formulation of an hypothesis. In spite of all this, in the case of Thailand many scholars seem to have accepted the hypothesis about the conditioning influence of religion on society as an ultimate and simple truth. Besides this, we should realise that none of these scholars is really familiar with the religion they write about. Anyway, Ayal states that Thai Buddhism stands in the way of economic development; Sutton and Mosel argue that Buddhism conditions Thai administrative behavior and procedure; according to Benedict, Thai personality is a reflection of Buddhist values; Wilson says that Buddhism is a natural barrier against Marxism; Embree and Hanks view Thai social structure as a reflection of Buddhist values; according to Kaufman, Buddhism makes the Thai passive and fatalistic. Of course, Buddhism is terribly important in Thailand, but by just labelling everything as 'Buddhist' no sociological knowledge is contributed. In Bellah's view one of the chief functions of religion is to supply a context of meaning for the central values of the society, and that makes religion even more abstract than those central values. What remains is a greatest common denominator that enlightens very little. As Manning Nash has shown for Burma, and the same should hold for Thailand, Buddhism is a very hospitable religion and may accommodate a host of ideas and values that can all be said to be Buddhist. It really offers no starting point, to say that Buddhism conditions everything; to being with we should know who and what conditions Buddhism in the specific context of Thai society.

If we want to know how religion operates in a society we have to know more than its formal beliefs and teachings, and more than its formal structure. If we then still want to argue in terms of values and value-systems, we have to look for those values not at the highest level of abstraction, but at ,the level of reality, in order to ascertain what the living meaning of a religion is in the personalities of the individuals that live with it, and the place that it has in their thoughts,

106

J.A.N. Mulder

feelings and aspirations. Only then can be seen how, when and where religion influences life, what areas of life are influenced by other values, and how religious and other values influence each other. In the village anthropology of Kaufman, Kingshill, Ingersoll, Phillips, Amyot, Moerman and Sharp, one finds that there are more than religious values alone conditioning Thai social behavior, but as these ethnographic studies have not been written with the abovestated in mind, the evidence is scanty and haphazard. What is missing in this field, as in almost any field of the sociology of Thailand, is basic research and information. The sociological study of social values or value-systems only makes sense in its social structural setting. Besides this, values do not have some strange sort of autonomy; on the contrary, they can be manipulated, reinforced or done away with, interpreted, reinterpreted, changed-and all values need to be sustained, sometimes by elusive yet very real mechanisms of social control, sometimes by overt organizations like a political party, a bureaucracy or a clergy. Moreover, values need to be learned and so to be taught. In short, values have a social function and have to be made to work. Strange as it may seem, then, the organizational and structural aspects of values have received very little systematic attention from those scholars commenting on the value-system in Thailand. Values have often become some strange and independently operating social principle, the dous-ex-nzachina of the social-scientific. study of Thailand. A structural approach to the study of Thai society and Thai values, i.e. an approach that takes its starting point in reality and that tries to find the structural principles and values that operate at the behavioral level, bas scarcely been attempted for Thailand. Yet such an approach will prove to be the more promising one, as can already be illustrated by those very few studies that have been undertaken along these lines : Evers, for example, has shown how urbanisation and bureaucratisation in Thailand mitigate the much praised though never measured social mobility. The latter, seen as a • Buddhist value', is

SOCIOLOGY AND IIELIGION IN THAILAND: A Cl\lTIQUE

107

the cornerstone in the analysis of the peculiar structure termed 'loose' that Thailand is said to exemplify; 'loose structure' again reflecting 'Buddhist values'. Evers rightly comments on the confusion of ideology and social reality. And it may rightly be asked, whose ideology? The ideology of the Thai, or of the foreigners that constructed their view of a Buddhist value-system'! That Thai society is not so devoid of structural principles as we are often led to believe bas also been shown by Skinner (for Bangkok) and Amyot (for villages in the northeastern part of the country), while the relevant anthropological field studies also do not indicate any exceptionally high rate of status mobility. The psychologist Boesch related the achievement-level of schoolchildren to the particular structure of authority prevalent in the Thai family and did not find any need to resort to 'Buddhist values' in the explanation of his findings, and, finally, Klausner, Moerman and Mulder, concentrating on the institutional organisation of Buddhism, found that Buddhism is very important in Thailand, but also that it certainly does not explain everything. The Thai value-system will be as differentiated as any other national value-system. It serves no purpose to name it 'Buddhist', or even to prove that such a label holds. Buddhism certainly is a very important component of this system, just how important and in what situations, we do not know. Structurally its focus is clearly within the monkhood. The Sangha constitutes the organised guardian and symbolisation of Thai religion: it embodies Buddhism and to a large extent the living values of Thai society, which it teaches, preaches, disseminates, interprets and studies. Whether all those values can be classified as 'Buddhist' or otherwise is an affair of theologians, not of social scientists. The Sangha is deeply rooted in the Thai people, it is also intimately connected with the Government, a duality expressed in the symbol of the King, as the head of state and the high protector of religion. The Sangha most probably constitutes the most important and greatest institutional organisation in Thai society: it is visibly omnipresent in Thai life.

108

J.A.N. Mulder

Theoretically this leads to interesting and important questions on the relationship of a religion with its institutional organisation. Religion certainly has considerable influence on form and content of the social process as a whole and on aspects thereof. Yet the question remains : what is socially more important, the influence of the organisation that embodies, sustains and reinforces religion or the influence of the religion itself? Of course, they cannot be separated, but how far does any of the two enjoy autonomy, or don't they'! In social causation I am inclined to give more weight to the organisation that interprets and accommodates the religious values for everyday use than to the abstract teachings as such. The importance of the Sangha for the development and preservation of Thai Buddhism is recorded in history (e. g. the missions from Ceylon to Thailand and vice versa) and among others acknowledged by Princess Poon Diskul in her 'Buddhism for the Young', wherein she writes that without the Sangha the Buddhist teaching could never have been preserved nor made known to us. One wonders why this most important component of Buddhism has scarcely been studied. On the Buddha and His Dharma (Teaching) many books have been written. About the third component of Buddhism, viz. the Sangha, hardly a book has been published. And still, if we want to understand how Buddhism operates in society, what its influence is and how people live with it, we should study the Sangha first of all.

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY Culture-and-Personality Approach to the Study of Thai Society: Ayal, B.E., 'Value Systems and Economic Development in Japan and Thailand', Journal of Social Issues 19 63, 1. Benedict, Ruth, Thai Culture and Behavior, Data paper No 4, South East Asia Program, Cornell University, Ithaca 1952. Embree, J.F., 'Thailand: A Loosely Structured Soct'al System' , 11mencan · A 11 tlzropologist vol52/2, 1950, 181-193. Hanks,L.M., 'Merit and Power in the Thai Social Order' Amer ·c A tl ,~-> z · t . vol . , z an n zro4 o Offzs, , 6416 1962

~llClOLUCY AND HELH;ION IN THAILAND: A Cl\l'I'IQllE

109

Mosel. J.N., 'Communications Patterns and Political Socialization in Transitional Thailand' in L.W. Pye (ed.): Communications a11d Political Development Princeton 1963. - - - - - , 'Thai Administrative Behavior', in W, Siffin (ed): Towm·d the Comj,arath·t· Study of l'ublic ;ldministt·ation Bloomington, Indiana 1957. Phillips, H.P ., Thai Pl'asant Personality Berkeley and Los Angeles 1965. Sharp, L., et. al., S'iamese Rice Village Bangkok 1953. Wilson, D.A., Politics in Thailand Ithaca 1962. -------·----, 'Thailand', in G.McT. Kahin (ed.): Government.> and Politics in South J•:a.>t llsia Stanford 1959. Sutton, J.L., 'Political and Administrative Leadership', in J,L, Sutton (ed.) : Problems of Politics and lldmim'stration in Thailand Bloomington, Indiana 1962. General Ethnography, with much attention paid to the role of Buddhism in Thai Society : Ingersoll, .T.C., 'Religion and Economics in Village Thailand', .Journal of Asian Studies vol2l/3 May 1962, 350-361. Kaufman, 1-I.K., 13angldmad Glueckstad t (Augustin) 1960. Kingshill, K., Ku Daeng-tlw Red Tomb Chiengmai 1960. deYoung, J.E., Village Ltfe in Modem Thailand Berkeley 1955. Structural Approach to the Study of Thai Society: Amyot, J., Intensive Village Study Project, ll.j,ril-May L9G4, Ban Nonlan Department of Social Studies, Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok 1964. Boesch, E. E., 'Autoritaet und Leistungsverhalten in Thailand', in Thailand Studithe 'web flag' being particularly common among the Thai Uie ( l'ltl ). -···--·-···-

-~-

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-----~-------------~----

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2) Khun Visit Udornkarn, lute Governor of Chiengrai, the northernmost province of Thailanc!.

170

Phya Anuman Rajadhon

My informant stated further that enquiries among the older generation in Chicngrai, both cleric and laic, elicited no information other than that the practice of planting either type of flag was traditional. Other commitments forced me to defer my study of the thread-square, and not until some two years later did I, by chance receive fresh information from one of my former students 3 -a native of the province of Petchabun ( LVI'l!1 ~1m) which a butts theN ortheast. During a conversation, I mentioned, incidently, the victory flag and the thread-square or tung yai flag. She seemed interested and I was led to show her the flags in my possession. She thereupon informed me that there were such flags in Petchabun. In fact, in girlhood, she had helped older folk to make such flags. Later, she sent me a note, the gist of which is that in the district of Lomsak

( DlLJltmdurrn) in Petchabun Province, and also in Loei ( 'rn,~J'vll~tl) a Northeastern Province abutting the district of Lomsak, the thread-square flag is called tong yai ( 11-J 'l~)- 'web' flag, tong hang (1i-1WI~)--'tail' flag, or tong hang tahhe-'crocodile tail' flag. The description of this type of flag is essentially the same as that already given. Some days before an important event, for instance the Songkran Feast4 or the Thet Mahachat Feast,5 the lay manager of a village wat beats a big drum in the wat drum tower announcing the date of the coming festival and the name of the wat where it is to take place if there is more than one wat in the village. On hearing the announcement, villagers will begin collecting the necessary cotton or silk threads which most households use in weaving. The threads collected are then divided into lots and each lot is dyed a particular colour. A number of bamboo sticks for the ribs of the flag is also provided. There is no rule governing the size of a flag- a household may choose to make either a victory flag or a thread-square flag of any size, and these flags may be made at home or a:t the wat where the villagers will gather to help one another. Of course, there 3) Dr. Siddha Binilbhuvadol of the Ministry of Education. 4)

Sec: 'Songkran Feast' Thai Culture Series No 5, National Culture Institute.

5) See: 'Thet Mahachat' Burma Research Society, fJOth Anniversary Publiwtion January 1963,

'"ill :• II\ Ill I

llliii' .. \11-SI,II .\HI-'. I~ IIL\11.·1\11

171

will be !'u n and je•;t ing at this l i !l1e, especial! y among the younger generation. When the tlags arc completed and the auspicious moment for the beginning of the festival arrives, there is some ceremony involved in hniting them. However, my informant does not detail this ceremony. There arc two kinds of flag posts: permanent and temporary. Permanent posts are of hard wood capped by a carved decorated figure or the Hindu mythological bird hama-a kind of goose called in Thai lw11g ! ~~ 1:; '· Sometimes the lumsa is sawn from a piece or wood and painted. The flag is raised by a pulley. Temporary posts t uf (\!Whi. and pigs in place Of buffaloes in order to t,l(

effect

ecunom~.

The Thai in lhe ntlrth mixed with the Lawa over a lengthy fJ.eriPd; livin!t Wgtther peacefully. While the Thai held the reins of government the L~twa enjoyed C()tnplete freedom to follow their ways and 1\l nbserve their traditions and customs. The Thai participated in performin!? the rite or slaughtering buffaloes to worship the ancestral spirits in accordance with the faith of the Lawa, being mindful that it wus in the Lawa spirits that the guardian powers lay. When the spirits of Pu Snch and Ya Saeh were being worshipped there . ' runntng: . ., "'•"" ~ ... '" .l WOU lib ( C ll CIUitlOfl n·l::L!I!I~ l11l\.H)f1l!Jfl1 LlHIL!JO~U11Jl-I!JV11utVIWl ,.~t ', thut is, /.rl not thr• ritt' of the J.awCI cUe t'n tlwir swz'ddens; let not the ria nf thr Tlwi Mithrr and die in their fields. Clearly, the association hct ween the Thni and the Lawn people was close. 'lie should observe that the ceremonial slaughter for offering to the :tpirits uf the ancestors of the Lawa at Tambon Sutep and Tambon Mae Hinh would be nccompanied by a Buddhist rite in the form of an in~antuti'm und the offering of food to monks. When the rite was over, a banner bearing the image of the Buddha, called Phra Bot (Yl1~U~) would be raised upon u tull tree where it could swing in the wind. Phra Bot, a painting of some antiquity done on a cloth sheet some two meters wide and four meters long, depicted the Buddha and his disciples in a standing posture-to the left of the Buddha stood Moggullana and to the right Sariputra. Traditionally, this banner was placed in u chest of teak adorned in a gold leaf-pattern design and kept in the Golden Vibara at Wat Pbra Singha, Chiengmai. Later, when Phra Srivijayu, a famous monk from Amphur Li, Pr?vin~e Lamphun, supervised repairs to Wat Phra Singha in 1926, a c~te~t:m or Tnmhon Suter removed this banner to Wat Kow Tue (1f1Lmnn)

202

Krusri Nimmanhaeminda

an affiliate ofWat Suandok ('iltn'J\i~tlltl). During World War II, when Japanese troops used Wat Suandok as u garrison, the banner disappeared and only the box of guilded teak remains in Wat Suandok {figure 9). However, in 1926, the people of Tambon Mae Hiah made a facsimile of this banner and deposited it at 'Hat Pachi (~1~) near Doi Kam (figure 10}. Raising this banner aloft and allowing it to swing and flutter in the wind during the annual offering to the guardian spirits is intended to deceive the cannibalistic spirits into believing the Lord Buddha to be alive-- the movement of the banner seeming to be his body movements, so that Pu Saeh, Ya Such and their offspring would hold to their vow not to taste of human flesh while the Buddha was alive (figures 11 & 12). Here, we might note that the last request of Pu Saeh and Ya Saeh. that they be allowed to taste human blood to the amount of a fly's head, would appear grunted since on any occasion when a buffalo is slaughtered for sacrifice, villagers helping to kill the animal and accidentally cutting themselves are believed to be satisfying the desire of Pu Saeh and Ya Saeh for human blood. Following are invocations to different guardian spirits used in the annual offering ceremony. Two original nmnuscripts containing the invocations have been found in the possession of village elders of Ban Tindoi and Ban Puchi of Tambon Mae Hiah. There is but a slight difference in the two versions, the texts agreeing almo:;t fully. Both manuscripts are written in Thai Yuan Dharma characters. Here these are transliterated into modern Thai and translated into English, The writer wishes to express his gratitude to Dr. Michael Moerman of the Department of Anthropology, University of California at Los Angeles, for his gracious assistance in checking the translations.

Figure 9 llo;~; of the original Phra Bot, now at Wat Suandok.

Figure 10 Box of the Phra Bot of Wat Phra Pachi, Tambon Mae Hiah.

Figure II Phra Bot dated B.E. 2469 (A.D. 1926) of Wat Pachi, Tam bon Mae Hiah, and the abbot of the wat.

Figure 12 Phra Bot of Wat Pachi, Tambon Mae Hiah, hung on a tree with its box in the foreground.

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lnYa,catio.n to Khu.n Luang Viranga BHON ro 1/IRANGO, hear ye our lord, Khun Luang Viranga, who guard;;. the d\'main of Cbiengmai. At this moment a year has i~ in Smm to the jurisdiction of the Siamese tribunals, and brought alsu a radtcal change in the system of extraterritoriality and jurisdiction over British subjects. The Anglo-Siamese talks regarding juri:;.diction, which ended in failure nt the end of 1905 because of the Briti.!>h Government's refusal to submit only British Asian subjects as distinct frum British European subjects to Siamese courts, and bcclky pursued by the Straits Settlements, as exemplified in the Swettenhum miM.ion. in regard to any pronounced interference by Siam in the internal affairs t>f Kedah, n situation exploited by the Kedah Uorcrnment 10 folh:m· their own policy. In view of Duff's affairs in Kelantan, the unsatisfactory condition of Kedah since the Raja Muda's death, and the uncompromising attitude nf the Sultan of Trengganu, Strobel would not be sorry to see the ~iamesc she was making. The rail way loan interest should remain at 4 percent but Anderson should give up Legeh, 2 1 since Paget believed that to persist in such a demand would impede the negotiations. Paget's insistence yielded results. The Siamese Government gave up Langkawi and Rahman without demur. Perhaps the renun18) When the cession of territory was offered to England the discussion regarding the Malay Peninsula Railway intervened. The Siarne~e Govemment proposed to borrow£ 4 million at a low rate of interest from the Government of the Straits Settlements for construction. 19) Foret'gn 0.(/ice Pajwrs, l,ondon 442/fi!.! Paget interviewed V/estengard 28 Jan 1908. 20) Colonial 0.(/ice Paj;ers, London 278/25:! Anderson-Pagct 29 Jun 1908. 21) Colonial qt!ice Paj>ers, Londo11 278/253 Paget-Anderson 30 Jan 190!!. Foreign O.t!ice Paj>ers, l.ondon 42:..!/(;'2 Puget-Grey 30 Jun 1908.

dalton b) the Hrili1>h Govemmcnt of extraterritoriality and the payment li•r the comlruction of the railway by the Federated Malay State!! Go\ em men! were wurth more than these two remote territories. Paget \\ w!c tn Sir l~d ward Grey, the Foreign Secretary:

... the lerrilory we nre gaining is considerably greater in r.;y.tcnt, population and wealth, and incomparably more \ aluahle, than any of the Cambodian Provinces lately . . 1 "! l"ClIetI hi I ·ranee ... ·· ··

22)

· ·,······,~;-;-;···~·:.~~-get-Grey 27 Feb 1908. ll ~>I line l~t:hH:en Chien!!Saen and Muechnn and (b) the low lulls MIH• 1 tmdin~ lhc h~ke at Plwyuo, both being areas which call f(lr il dint to .long occupation, which is corroborated by a thick scatter nf punery fragments on the surface (figure 1). It was immedintely nul icen ble thn t this pottery, while including much ware of primitive appcnrnnce, included no glazed fragments. Even on the surface f>lllllll r~nlished !'itone axes have been collected, and here and there fragments of honing stones and stone pestles can be picked up. The •1rnund 111 !his place b evidently raised a short distance above the geneml level nf the extensive fiat alluvium surround Uthong, which is mo"t ly l:nnvcned tu rice culti vat inn. Low bills are visible from Tha Muang ahnut 1.5 kms to the south-west. The site borders a deep pond \Vhit:h sca~alflally still hlllds water, the bottom of which when dry is ust:d for ~!.rnwing vcgctnbles. The part where the ground slopes down more gradually w the pond bottom is covered with a banana grove. The pond has every appearance of antiquity and of being an artificial feature, whether excavated to its present form, or remaining as a severed pnrtion of ,>ld river bed, canal or moat. The last seems most likely und perhaps from a study of aerial photographs could be determined. On the surface of the site there is a sparse scatter of small shapeless lumps of burnt clay, but no fragments of formed bricks such as to :,uggcst brick building and therefore Dudclhist structures. It was later discovered that the scatter of burnt clay, this time including brick fragments, is thicker at a point some 100 metres to the south. '>trctcht~l•

240

William Watson & llelmut ll.l'.l••••h

The cuttings (plan!) were sited to cover a rcal>\.mably wide area along the edge of the pond. Cuttings 1 and C1 apprt.l,V

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flattened as the unburnt pot \\'tis handled. the corded pattern appears a little blm pottery treated in this manner the trace~ surface is barely detectable, thb smooth. There are fragments intermediate bet ween the two here dc~rri distinction between 'fine cording' clear. 3. On some bowls with corded sides upper surface of these rims is burnished, and the surfaces of some plain {i.e. not corded) the same manner. The smoothing «lppeap~ to hate l:~tecn with a narrow rounded point. 4. While the methods described above are hJ madt" pottery, it is possible that scJme turning potter's wheel) was used to produce the bowls (see below). Their exactly circular can been achieved without it. But evr coarse cording

according to their size) and a flat rim rising ut about 60 from the horizontal. The size varies from a diameter of about l R ems to at least twice this figure. The cording norrnally begins just above the widest part of the vessel and continues unbroken urmmd the base. In some vessels which appear to belong to this class the inner surface of the wide rim is set off with a fiery red slip.

253

with inturned lip. The latter is bur~ bdow the shoulder are coarsecardes. sides and a comparatively high, hollow to the horizontal. Three quarters of a regular curve, and the last quarter rises These bowls are burnished in the manner Some examples are fired to a light reddish nthers have nn the outer face a rich red slip, which has ht:·en h»"t from tJf the upper part of the bowl. ·L

unc example with a diameter of 29 ems at the bowl with pcdestnl. The existence of the by the form of the break in the base of what the gap boing roughly circular and showing of the outward turn of the vessel side. inside and out, and burned to a mottled outside, while the inside is black all over. at Kok Charocn \Vcre not prepared with particular were f the simplest. The orientation of

hcud slightly west of north head to south west Cuttin~ 3 1-~kelctons 3,4,5 head to north east Tht~ hudies were placed tH1 the back, with the arms at the sides, as fnlln\vs: wuh put~ ubuve head; ncme traced at feet, but these pos"kdetun 1 t wn thmtgh improbably, beyond the limit of the cutting. 2 of a large pot at the feet; no pots at the head. 'lkelctnn 3 twn intact and other broken pots at the head; one intact and at least two broken pots at the feet (figure 5). skeleton 4 broken pots at the feet; the upper part of the skeleton remained unexcavated in the north east wall of the cutting. skeleton 5 two intact pots at the head; one intact and several broken pots at the feet. Lines of potsherds were laid against and over the limbs~ and elsewhere some potsherds had been set on edge. Small disc beads of shell were bound near the waist (figure 6; plan 4).

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b~rials there was reason to suspect that dehberately broken when the funeral took survive complete but in fragmentary of the fragments (particularly when they in a line) did not suggest breaking nUliVl"lmPinr the interference of tree roots or Apart from groups of fragments reprecomplete pots, seemingly broken in the there were other groups of potsherds disone surmises, were deliberately placed of the corpse. Some of these potsherds St('>ne axes were found in the couche nnne associated with a burial. As grave gifts add in scatter of small disc beads of shell were near the waist of skeleton 5. No metal or trace Some small flakes of obsidian found C()Uid not be matched with any finished so that it remains uncertain whether the

indicates import from at least as far as tree rulfuwed. with the consequence that the outlines of into the basal soil were difficult to distinguish instance a pit was that encountered on the northeast I. The outline appeared as a rough semi-circle ems from the wall of the cutting. Towards the edge, against the wall, was a fragment of human skull partly a heavy stone which seemed to have crushed it. As far as ascertained without extending the cutting further than was deemed pos~ibie, this skull fragment appeared not to connect with parts of a skeleton. The fragment lay at 50-60 ems below datum, .,.,_.L·*"H:II.Iil:.

1) H wns inter cch>lc,gist~ little has been clarified about social structure, while equally little has been said about Thai culture.* Yet it strikes the student of the literature about Thailand that the anthropologists, who worked under the auspices of the Cornell Southeast Asia Prograrn, and who, after 1950, did serious social ·1·)-- E;~~b;~~,-"J:r~.:·····;Thaii;~d·:-A.·L~osely Structured Social System' American ilnlhroj>ologist vol 52/2, 19 50. * Editor's note: See Wijeyewardene, G., 'A Note ?n Irrigation ~nd Agri~u}ture in a North Thai Village; Felt't:itatlon Votumcs oj Southeast-!lswn Studzes vol 2, 1965 pp. 255-59.

J.A.N. Mulder

274

research in Thailand, tended to accept Embree.'s typification (a hypothetical 'ideal type' of Thai culture) as a serious analysis of Thai :>ocial structure, without even trying to find alternative criteria by which Thai social structure might be better understood. In the preliminary study on Bang Chan 2, the admittedly unrepresentative village studied by the Cornell group. we reHd: tThe exceptionally amorphous, relatively unstructured character of all [sic] Thai society is clearly reflected in the undifferentiated social organisation of Bang Chan'. And that is where it stands for the members of the Cornell group. 'Loose structure' (lack of formal S(H;ial organisation) and 'individualism' (basic human need for privacy and isolation) became the dogmas, which would lead to a kind of metaphysical understanding of Thai social dynamics: 'In the vi !luge Bang Chan all social interaction is set within a framework or CIJSmic unpredict.a· bility'. 3

It is not the purpose of this article to

whether the

concept of a 'loosely structured society' can rightfully be maintained and defended4. There is not such a thing as tht» sot~ial structtuc,

knowledge about which would offer the all-embracing key to understanding and explanation of more cmplex !:!Ocieties. 'l"hc sociul structure that is perceived and described is relative to the structural point-of"view of the observer .. investigator. ---------~~--

Sharp, L., et al, Siamest~ !Ute Village: /1 lh:limimlry .'•jtm('' lttm}( ('fum 1.948-1.Y4U Bangkok 1953. 3) Hanks L.M. cited by Phillips, H.P., 'l'hai l't!lmmt l'er.wnali(l'.' the• Paltt'tning 1l Interpersonal BchmJior in the Village of Batzg Chan Berkeley and Los Angeles 1965, p. 80. Another dogma, ·oiz. the great social mobility that would be characteristic for Thai society, fits within this interpretative framework. For criticism, see: Evers, H.D., ~The Formation of a Socinl Cla.ss Structure: Urbanisation, Bureaucratization and Social Mobility in Thailand', .lmtJrican R.e1.•iew vol 31 no 4, 19 66 and Mulder, J.A.N., 'Een Evaluat.ie van de na· oorlogse sociaal~wetenschappelijke Literatuur over Thailand', Sociologische Gids forthcoming 1967. For criticism on the 'cosmological interpretations', Sociological see Mulder, J.A.N., ' Sociology and Religion in Thailand : A Critique' Journal of the Siam Society Jan 1967. 4) An interesting discussion (in English) about this concept is presented in Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde vol 166, 1960 by J. Pouwer, pp. 109-118 and pp. 365~372 and A.C. van der Leeden, pp. 119-149. Also Nash's comments are clarifying, in Nash, Manning, 1'he Golden Road to A1odernity; Village Life in Contemporary Burma New York 1965, pp. 72-73.

2)

tH

HlP\.L \'\ALHiiS llF THAI PF.ABANT VILLAGES

275

no sense to call a bilateral kinship system, or a relal'i>""'" ..."\'vu, a loose structure. Of course, in any , there is u structure in terms of basic, culturewide principles, in \:ariou~ cumbimuions, form the groupings, the relationships and the h)les and persons; also in Thai villages, and also in as a whole. or peasant level, Thai society obviously misses !->lructural principles that are so obvious in Indian caste unilateral societies, hence the repeated emphasis on character or social relationships in the literature about But there may be a host of non-ascriptive operating at the same level. MoermanS, for u sucial structure of a Thai village, taking its ~t ructurat center; concentrating on the organisation of Anryot6 f'l)und cooperating groups ofin-laws as a \,trm:turin~ principk~ (very similar to Leach's findings in Pul Eliya, C~t,~y!~m); tmd the "-tructuring principle or land und property relations, as Lew.:h f\1und them in Ccylon7 may very well be operating in Thai pea~unt as well. At the

Yet it camwt be denied that the Thai individual is allowed a ()f variation and alternative in his behaviour. need for statistical data in Thai society than in so~ cieties thut are clearly structured by ascriptive principles 8 . tln~al,cn:tol,e amount

~ince Kroeber wrote about peasant societies as part-societies

with part·cultures, and especially since Redfield published his Peasant Sodtty cuul Cultur~~9. we have come to recognize that the peasant S) Mt)ennau* M., 'Ban Ping•s Temple: The Center of a "Loosely Structured" Society'; in Manning Nash (ed), Anthropological Studies in Theravada /Jmldhi.un New Haven, Yale U.P. 1966. ()) Amyot. J., lnten~b.'t! Villtlge Study Proje(:t, Ajm'l-May 1964, Ban Nonlan, Pndimim1ry R.e;wrt Bangkok, Faculty of Political Science, Chulalongkorn University 1964; typescript. 7) Leach. E.R., Pul Eliya, .. l Village in Ceylon; A Study of Landtenure and Ki·nship Cambridge U.P. 1961, pp. 118~19. . . . 8) Leach stresses the need also for these latter soc1ettes to be analysed m statistical terms ojJ. cit. pp. 296-306. 9) Redfield, R.• 'Pet:,·ant Society and Culture; An AnthrojJological Approach to Chtili.,ation University of Chicago Press 1956.

276

J.A.N. Mulder

village, related as it is to people and instituticms outside of it, m~ty in itself be so incomplete a system that it cannot \Vell he described as social structure. Thai peasant villages ure certainly outside nf the runge tribal societies, and should, therefore, not be tumlysed in term~ adequate for such societies. Thai peasant villages should l)e analy5ed as part· societies and part-cultures of the Thai nation. Thai peasantry shows rnany sely structured system of social relationships set within a framewort~ f cosmic unpredictabilities' with which students of Thai society have hud tn content themselves for so long a time.

TIU~:

TIJAI •KA'fA MA~QIARAPALA' A1'1D MALACCA by

David K. Wyatt Hl Orumtal ami Aji·ican Studies L)drt'l',\i('l of London

'Palutine Law' (Kata Ma11:cfiarapala or Kat Manin any discussion of the early history of ma~enstt>le date, Culasakaraja 720 or A.D. 1358, has long .r •••,, .. i,,. .. "" vlho rightly but uncertainly have felt it necessary to grounds its inclusion of Malacca and other peninin its H~t lrW in Bradley vol 2 p. 92. 1

11) !i..."lf~L 1ltHI loc. cit. and Ratburi

,

!2) f!1'1JL'YlEJ loc. cit,

vol 2 p.

54.

I'll

L~,HJ .J 'J"fl (i

281

TRANSLATION Clause 1

moment, 720 of the era; on Saturday, the sixth day moon of the fifth month in the year of the Rat, King RamJ'dhipaH Pdrama!railtlkanaratha ... uf the

Clause 2 twenty towns (mba·h) send the gold and silver Uowers to King: Nagara Hluan, Sri Satanagaq.ahu!a, Chiengmai, l'bi1 Chicngkmi~ Chiengkran, Chiengsaen, Chiengrung, Chiengrai,

Hsenwi, Khcmaraja, Phrae, Nan, Iaiduti, Gotrapon and Reo Kaeo, these sixteen in the north; and, in the south, Ujong Tanah, Malacca, MalU,yii and Varavart. four towns; together twenty towns which send the gold and flowers. Then~ are eight rulers of great cities (tnahanagara) who bear only the water or allegiance: Phi tsanulok, Sajanalai, SukbothaL Kamphaengphet, Nakh9n Si Thammarat, Nekh9n Rajasima, Tenasserim and ·ravoy.

The Date of the l.aw

F date. lun\•ever, cannot be correct, as 1358 was the Yenr of the Dog and not the Year of the Rat.17 One may take it as a cardinal rule that, however much scribes and copyists may confuse dates, the animal cyclical years are almost never incorrect. As the law's date yields no tenahle \!1n in the nineteenth century when the present collection of old Thai laW!:> was compiled, and only recently has been identified and conclusively dated.23 20)

l\''J'SJJ vol 1 p. 197 {Bramdiikti); and IV, 155 (Kra~pata sak, Clause 68).

21}

K.'f'S!J vol 1 p. 219 (Bra~ aiyakara !Tt111hnen nii balaroan, Clause 1), and 316 (Brah aiyakrrru liitphnt-n nlidahar hua moa1i, Clause 30). The two permutations of Buddhist Era yield Lesser Era 1341 (by Greater Era rules) or 1451 (by Legal Era rules); the two permutations of Legal Era yield Lesser Era-11 (by Buddhist Era rules) or 610 (by Greater Era rule~); and the other Greater Era permutation yields Lesser Era 99 by Buddlnst Era rules.

22)

2 3)

Phiphat, ·s~ikaraja Cu!fimal}I' of'· cit.

David K.

Both possibilities. then.," the possibility of the possibility of misconvcrsion from one cnt sarne year, C.S. X30 or A.D. 1468/69. us. the date uf

rnt~;r,··~~n

An empirical check t)n the ac~ur~tt~y ur this d~ue is possible through reference to the weekday, Saturday. on the law is snid to have been promulgated. The Burmese, Lau, und CtunbtltHan duo~ nological systems all prescribe Tut'sday the the waxing moon of the fifth month in the year in lJUCstion. a of three days; but they also miss by three days the correct the Vat 4 Cu!umaqi inscription of 1465.2 If the of the 1.:.165 in~cription is used as a basis for calculation of the of the waxing moon of the fifth month three years latert the rc·~ult is the expected Saturday. Thus the empirical bet\vecn the inscription and the law lends certainty tn a of mid-April. A.D. 14GR, for the 'Palatine Law'.2::; The Tributary States

or the t\venty tributary states mentioned

in 2, most are readily identifiable, and the li5L as a wh1.Jle fits much more readily into the context of fifteenth century S further than it did in the century preceding World Vlar U the tecon()mic character of the ... Thai elite ... and any more aggressive development policy bn>ken the balance which was maintaining Thai indepem:lent.~e\ An unremarkable solution, though debateable. it

t!Cl~m\'-'th since tbe Second World War is taken up next, A structural shift in the Thai economy is discerned but instead of being interpreted us paralleling that pattern that characterized the transformation of tbe highly developed economies', it is held indicative Ufses in logic or the philosophy of science ... was told the school preferred that its students study philosophical matters in the Buddhist temples, should they be interested in the subject at all'. 1

The hulk of the book is devoted to considering the agricultural and industrial sectors; each being taken up separately in 'The Dyna" mics of Agricultural Development, and 'Industry: The Decision to Invest'. To sum, albeit with criminal brevity: the government must lead the way in developing agriculture and must get t)Ut of the \vay e>f developing industry. In develping this argument Muscat introduces a considerable amount of information and a number pefully, some selfless soul will offer a similar \V' 1

368. Siddhipandh, P., The Reign of Pra Comklao LL~u~uvn~"JfllJLnL'll Niyomwi!ya Press, Bangkok 2503 octo pp 562. Until comparatively recent times the biographies of our kings formed the greater part of the official histories of their individual

312

HECI':N'I'

SIA\1E~E l'llHLlCATIO\~

reigns. The interest in the publication under review lies in the fact that it is unofficial and includes much previously unknown to the reading public and yet likely to be worthy of belief. Seemingly drawn from private sources, these, unfortunately, are not givenpossibly these have not been withheld purposely. The narrative commences with the illness of Rama III and the events immediately following his death. It then touches on the popularity of Prince Mo!Jkut~ then a monk in Wat Bovoranives, his youth, his searching disposition (dissatisfied with the pedantic selfsatisfaction of the Buddhist clergy, he worked out a school of thought \Vithout ostentation), his eventual call to the Throne by the leaders of government, his liberal foreign policy, his zeal to promote a more intelligent and cleaner way-of-life among his peoples, his patronage of the arts and, finally, his fatal illness contracted on a scientific expedition to calculate a total eclipse in the malarial swamps of the southern peninsula. Additional chapters or notes are devoted to personalities in the reign of King MoiJkut: his friend Sir Harry Ord, Miin Anuraks the attendant who might have been responsible (though anonymously) for the material used in this book, the King's children and his ministers. The work brings to readers the personal side of a clever man who was a sincere patriot. 369. Nai YcnJ, llistory of Vietnam translated Vl·.1fl',··Hn'HU'Jt.t memento of the cremation of Nai Kuwi Nguyen-Rawi, King Mf Vietnam. The introduction, signed by that this work was translated from" the 1.1 certain YoJJ of the old Vietnamese artillery urmy. The history ranges from the mythical origin continually fought against their Chinese, Cham and to the setting-up in comparatively recent times of Vietnmn, aided by King Rama I of the Cakri dynasty of is a useful synopsis (pages 7-10) and a table of contents. the s,ubjcct matter, the 'history' traces a 'descent' from mythical founder of the state who was given a celestial maiden to the great god of heaven, and goes on to recount uf his dynasty, one of whom acquired connection with the the ntce \Jf rn the course of a more authentic section we are Vietnam had to fight for her existence with the Chinese Empire and how the Vietnamese came to look upon the Chinese as natural The bulk of the history deals with more recent Ginhmg established his rule over the country with the I of Siam in the 18th century. In the course of time these became rivals f