Top Quotes: “A Short History Of Laos: The Land In Between” — Grant Evans

“In the 1950s Laos, newly independent from France, set out to build a modern society but was soon engulfed by the Vietnam War, which brought with it invading North Vietnamese troops and high-flying US bombers that wreaked havoc. Few states could have survived the enormous pressure the Royal Lao Government came under in those years and, not surprisingly, it was finally crushed. The harsh communist regime that came to power in 1975 drove perhaps one-tenth of the population into exile.”

“Some confusion has emerged among visitors to Laos and foreigners working there about whether it is more correct to call the country ‘Laos’ or ‘Lao’ because the ‘s’ is absent in the Lao language.

Historical sources suggest that the first writing of the term ‘Laos’ was in a Portuguese dictionary created by missionaries based in Macau. It is possible that the French and English borrowed from this source, but there is a reason why an ‘s’ may be added to Lao, and that is to transform it into a noun. Thus, the term ‘Lao’ is an adjective; with the ‘s’ added it becomes a noun. This is a logical solution to a linguistic problem within most European languages. Therefore I have opted in this book for the terms ‘Laos’ for the country and ‘Lao’ as an adjective. For the latter ‘Laotian’ is used by some writers. This is also correct, although I do not use it. Laos with an ‘s’ was one solution in English for the countrys name. It could have been ‘Lao’, but it may well have been ‘Laoland’, by literal translation from the Lao, Muang Lao or Pathet Lao. This of course happened with Thailand when Prathet Thai was translated as ‘Thailand.’

Indeed, the latter has become so entrenched through tourist promotion and encounters with foreigners that one now often sees ‘Thai-laen’ written in Thai. But, for reasons that are obscure, Pathet Lao is not ‘Lao-land’, although it could quite easily have been.

In Lao the ‘s’ is not necessary because ‘Lao’ is almost always assisted by another word, for example khon Lao for a Lao person, or Muang Lao for the country.”

“As far as I am aware the Lao People’s Democratic Republic has no official position on the usages of either ‘Lao’ or ‘Laos’ in English. The English language Vientiane Times newspaper uses Laos for the country, which perhaps makes this use semi-official.”

“At the end of the nineteenth century Laos emerged as a national entity. This was the culmination of a long and often chaotic historical process in which the traditional kingdoms of mainland Southeast Asia fought with each other and often absorbed one another. Disparate populations of ethnic Tai and other ethnic groups were slowly moulded by the influence of Theravada Buddhism, which gradually ensured a broad cultural continuity across the region. Nevertheless, local differences remained important. Although the Lao kingdom, Lan Xang, was a major regional player in the fifteenth century, it and subsequent Lao kingdoms were overshadowed by the kingdoms that emerged in what is today known as Thailand.

Landlocked and distant from the economic and political changes brought to the region by European expansion, the inland kingdoms of the Lao almost disappeared in the nineteenth century while neighbouring states were consolidated. Only French colonial expansion averted, perhaps, the absorption of Laos by Thailand and Vietnam.”

“‘Tai’ is a general linguistic category that at one time may also have referred to a broadly shared culture. The Tai people are believed to have originated in the region of southern Kwangsi, China, and under pressure from an expanding Chinese empire began to march southwest sometime in the first millennium CE (common era).

Today the Tai are spread across the whole of mainland Southeast Asia. They are found along the southern borderlands of China, in northern Vietnam and Burma, in northeastern India and, of course, form the majority in Laos and Thailand. The Tai who remain in the high mountain valleys of northern Laos and Vietnam have been called ‘tribal’ because they never formed states. The Tai who descended to the plains and formed states, however, crossed both a cultural and a political watershed.”

“A key physical feature of the landlocked area that would become modern Laos is the Central Vietnamese Cordillera that runs from north to south, along which the country’s eastern border is located. There are other secondary ranges, and to the north of the capital Vientiane is found the highest peak, Phu Bia, 2818 metres. It is out of these ranges that all the main rivers flow, running from east to west into the Mekong River, and it is along the rivers that one finds the alluvial flood plains suitable for rice paddy fields. There are no other lowland plains of any note. While upland soils are not in general very fertile, there are two important upland plains areas: one in the north in Xiang Khoang Province, the rolling grasslands of the Plain of Jars, and the other the Boloven Plateau in Champasak Province in the south, with fertile soil supporting increasing numbers of coffee plantations. Most of the country, however, is rugged and mountainous and covered by monsoon forests that contain a relatively rich wildlife. The whole country lies in a tropical monsoon climatic region.

Mainland Southeast Asia at the time the Tai began their migrations was covered in forest and inhabited by ethnically diverse peoples who spoke languages belonging to the Austronesian and Mon-Khmer families. In the Laos of today these peoples form part of the country’s complex ethnic mosaic and live mainly in the mountain ranges. The Tai who moved into the upland valleys of Indochina long ago were led by warrior chiefs, ‘men of prowess’ who were acknowledged by their deeds to have unusual amounts of powerful ‘soul stuff.’ It was this sense of innate differences between individuals, found across the region, that would later enable the rapid absorption of Hindu ideas from India, with elaborate ideologies of caste difference and state building. The warrior Tai moved steadily along the mountain valleys, conquering the indigenous groups they found in their path, who became subordinate members of Tai villages and polities. The conquered peoples were called kha, a modern translation of which is ‘slave.’ This rendering, however, fails to capture the peculiarities of a stratified society in which conquered peoples were tied to overlords, and through a process of intermarriage assimilated to the culture of the Tai. Indeed, this process of miscegenation was fundamental to Tai expansion.”

“During expansionary phases of a mandala, smaller states were drawn directly into its realm; when it contracted they regained their autonomy or perhaps became attached to an adjacent mandala. Sacred centres, and not sacred territories and boundaries, were the preoccupation of these polities, which were made up of personalised networks focused on the king rather than territorial units. The king’s innate spiritual power attracted followers, and had to be shown to attract even greater numbers of followers, as expansion in the known world demonstrated prowess and spiritual potency. This spiritual prowess was not automatically transmitted to sons, however, thus the death of a king threatened to unravel the structure of personal loyalties making up any particular mandala.”

“Chinese navigators had named what is now called the Gulf of Siam, Hsiem, and it was towards the end of the thirteenth century that Chinese sources began to refer to the Tai of Sukhothai by the same name. No doubt in trading circles this blossomed into ‘Siamese’ for the people and ‘Siam’ for the land. The term ‘Tai’ first appears in written form during the Sukhothai period. But here it appears to retain its primary meaning as ‘person’, a usage still found in Lao where one may use Tai ban to mean a person of the village, Tai Vientiane to mean a person of Vientiane city, Tai Sam Neua to refer to a person from a region, or indeed, Tai Lao for a Lao person or persons.”

“Hierarchies of merit and spiritual power in Buddhist polities did not require that the elite think of themselves as being made of the same stuff as their subjects. Nevertheless, kingdoms such as that of Ayudhya were increasingly encountering merchants and missionaries from across the seas who trafficked in general categories, such as Siamese or Chinese, and in this contrastive way they began to see themselves as such. They too would acquire general names for others, such as farang for the Europeans; this came from the Malay kingdoms to the south where the traders were known as feringgi, a word derived from franks, an old Arab term for the Crusaders. These encounters demanded general descriptions for those who lived beyond Ayudhya, and it would seem that it was in this context that the term ‘Lao’ came to be used. Although its precise origins remain obscure, the Vietnamese, who had had continuous contact with Tai groups for centuries, referred to those people on the opposite side of the cordillera as Ai-Lao, and the Vietnamese could be the source of the designation. These designations were primarily for elite usage; there is little evidence that most ‘Lao’ or ‘Siamese’ thought of themselves in those terms.”

“Following the revolt of Anou, the Khorat Plateau underwent a crucial transformation as the Siamese state set out to colonise it definitively with people forcibly relocated from the eastern bank of the Mekong. For hundreds of years this vast plateau had remained forested and relatively unpopulated. The forests no doubt contained hunters and gatherers not unlike the Mlabri, the last remnants of whom can be found today in the forested border regions of Nan and Xaignabouri provinces. Contrary to maps produced by the French in the nineteenth century, or by Lao nationalists in the twentieth century, Lan Xang at its height ruled only over muang along the Mekong River on the plateau’s northern rim. Definitive Tai dominance in the area of Champasak occurred only at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Ayudhya also had little interest in the region, and only in the mid-seventeenth century did it establish the fortified outpost Nakhon Ratchasima on the ruins of two old Khmer towns. The region between this city and the northern towns associated with Lan Xang was largely a no-man’s land. Khmer settlers remained scattered across the plateau, but were mostly gathered on its southern rim.

Small groups of Tai had been migrating into the region for hundreds of years, some of them fleeing wars and dynastic disputes in Lan Xang, and their contact with the Khmer in the region would inflect their cultural development in a distinctive way. Other groups migrated across the Mekong to mix with the Khmer and other peoples indigenous to the region. The scattered groups of Suai or So in the northeast of Thailand today point to a complex ethnic history which remains largely unexamined, but the region was not uniformly ‘Lao’. Most of these people lived on the extreme margins of the states in the region and evolved strongly rooted local traditions. The actual ‘Lao-isation’ of the plateau only really came in the wake of Chao Anou’s revolt, which prompted the Siamese state to engage in a systematic policy of relocating tens of thousands of people from the east bank of the Mekong into a region it indisputably controlled. The ensuing political stability provided by an ever more powerful Bangkok ensured rapid population growth, and over the coming century more ethnic Lao would come to be found on the Khorat Plateau than in Laos itself.

Inevitably, the tightening control over local rulers undermined their traditional prerogatives, and the uprooting of people from their native villages produced a deep and pervasive sense of cultural insecurity across the Lao areas and caused occasional outbursts of millennial fervour.”

“Ever since the early Tai migrations, the northern mountains between Vietnam and Laos had contained smaller Tai muang. The nineteenth century saw the emergence of an important confederation of Tai chieftains called the Sip Song Chu Tai, which covered much of the modern province of Houaphan. These Tai remained non-Buddhists, and their leaders were tributary rulers for the lowland Viet states, which conferred titles on them and whose mandarin dress they imitated. This style of rule followed the Chinese frontier model of tu si, a kind of indirect rule. While these Tai were occasionally drawn into a tributary relationship with Luang Phrabang, their relationship was stronger with kingdoms to the east. The Tai Phuan on the Plain of Jars, however, had been converted to Buddhism during the rise of Lan Xang and had established a small principality in the region which was tied by tributary relations to the lowland states. It also paid tribute to Hue, which asserted its right to a role in Phuan affairs. In the mandala era such overlapping, pulsating and ill-defined jurisdictions were normal, and factions at court would use them to their own advantage. In the second half of the nineteenth century, however, a new form of statecraft was introduced to the region in the form of European colonialism, which demanded an exclusive sovereignty over territory rather than over people or political units. Rulers in Bangkok, Hue and indeed Beijing had to respond to this new reality.”

“Nationalism in Laos grew slowly over the first half of the twentieth century. Laos remained a colonial backwater within the French empire of Indochina, experiencing little economic, social or political change. Opium, which became a major source of revenue for the colonial government, caused rifts in the highlands and revolts by Chinese traders and Hmong people. But overall the country was calm, and Laos was for many French considered a kind of ‘Shangri-la.’ Colonial society was racist and sexist, but only mildly so. The challenge of a strident Thai nationalism in the 1930s, and war in the 1940s, prompted the growth of a small Lao nationalist movement which, in 1945, sought unsuccessfully to expel the French. France tried to hold onto its Indochinese colonies, and the Royal Lao Government was established in 1947 within the French Union. But by 1954 French colonialism in Indochina had collapsed.”

“The French in the nineteenth century were the first to map Laos and to give it its current cartography.”

“Contrary to Marxist-inspired arguments, colonial possessions like Laos were an economic burden on France and its motives for being there need to be sought elsewhere. French imperialism is best understood as an outgrowth of French nationalism.

The nineteenth century was a long process of turning peasants into Frenchmen — still incomplete when France took control of Laos in 1893. At that time the population of France was predominantly rural, and there was an enormous cultural gap between urban Parisian society and the countryside. For many, Paris was France, a sophisticated urban milieu that gave the nation an appearance of being more developed and ‘civilised’ than it really was. Members of this urban elite were often shocked to encounter peasants in rural areas who refused to speak French, who did not see themselves as Frenchmen, and who clung to local customs and ‘superstitions’.”

“The very top was peopled by French, but the colonial bureaucracy immediately below them was mainly staffed by educated Vietnamese (which partly accounted for their numbers in the cities in that part of Laos under direct rule). For the French-educated Lao intelligentsia such as Prince Phetsarath, interpreter and adviser to the Résident Supérieur in Vientiane, this Vietnamese predominance was unacceptable, but not until 1928 was a school for training Lao administrators established. In 1937 Vietnamese still held 46 per cent of the senior indigenous positions in the colonial bureaucracy (but not in the Luang Phrabang kingdom).”

“Despite early fantasies of finding great wealth, the economic development of French Laos was a failure. A summary of the economic situation in 1932, nearly. 40 years after the French had taken control, would conclude: the political situation is good; the economic situation is bad. There was still no industry, except for two relatively small French-owned mines near Thakhek worked by around 3000 Vietnamese. In Thakhek, Savannakhet and Bassa only 300 hectares of land was being used by Fren planters for commercial crops, primarily coffee in latter, and tobacco. Smallholder trade in cardamom by the Kha on the Boloven Plateau continued, as did the collecting of sticklac (an insect secretion used in polishing agents) and benzoin (a tree resin used in perfumes and ointments) in the north. Forestry provided some revenue. Agriculture generally was self-sufficient, with rice from 470 000 hectares under cultivation yielding 340 000 tonnes in 1932. The rice harvest fluctuated from year to year, however, and in some years severe regional shortages occurred. Small river transport companies plied the Mekong and its tributaries, carrying passengers and commercial traders. State-subsidised transport companies attempted to maintain the fiction that Laos was integrated into the rest of the economy of Indochina, when in fact the poor east-west roads through the mountains ensured that transport through Thailand was always cheaper, and that the Chinese merchants who used this route could easily outdo the French.

From the beginning the colonial government in Laos failed to pay its way — just the first of the modern states in Laos to experience a perennial fiscal crisis. It raised just enough money to pay its officials and no more. There was nothing for development, road building, schools, hospitals, or any of the other fruits of the mission of civilization.”

“Generally, Laos has been seen as the most docile of France’s Indo-chinese colonies. Colonial rule brought a peacefulness and stability to Laos that it had not experienced for two centuries. This not only allowed the consolidation of the Lao traditional elite, but also meant the re-establishment of stable peasant villages in many regions. Whatever peasant disgruntlement with French impositions in the form of taxes or corvée, or the elite’s complaints about the usurping of some of their traditional prerogatives, overall French control was supported rather than opposed.

Nonetheless, there was opposition. A revolt broke out in southern Laos as early as the end of the nineteenth century.”

“An uprising in the north in 1914 was inspired by an emergent Chinese, not Lao, nationalism. The collapse of the Qing Dynasty in 1911 and the rise of republicanism had triggered many revolts against the old order in China, many of them anarchic. In late 1914 a band of Haw Chinese riding in from Yunnan sacked a French post in Sam Neua in Laos and made off with a large amount of money and weapons; they repeated their success in Sonla, Vietnam. The rebels paraded flags of the Chinese Republic and their own banners, and succeeded in swelling their ranks from the local population, among them some local notables who had been displaced by the French. The Chinese rebels were remarkably well formed about events in the world outside, such as the war then raging in Europe. They issued a proclamation: All the soothsayers have predicted the annihilation of the French people. Even Paris has been crushed by the German army. It is no use counting on France. Drive out the French and the country will commence a happy and prosperous era and will enjoy entire religious freedom. The willingness of Chinese across the northern region to participate in the revolt was a result of their opposition to the French opium monopoly, which was attempting to assert control over Haw opium smuggling in northern Laos and Vietnam.”

“Barthélemy, as administrator of the Civil Service in Indochina, in his report on the events made an even more profound observation: Laos appears to be administratively organized as if it was inhabited only by Laotians. The [law] codes are Laotian, the mandarins who apply them are too and the provincial council, embryo of our future consultative council, does not have a single representative of the mountain races. He added that reliance on the pagoda schools meant that minorities fell outside the system and therefore could not understand the language of the state. Catholic priest Savina in his account written shortly after, one which remained secret for many years, asked: ‘Seeing that the Méo detest the Tai and the Tai detest the Méo, I ask why? … Seeing that the Tais possess the land and are governed by chiefs of their own race, while the Méo cannot do the same, I ask why?’ In fact, the Hmong had primarily revolted against Tai and Lao control over them and wished to be directly connected to the French administration.”

“Unlike Vietnam, Laos never had a substantial group of colons (white settlers), and this made for a different kind of colonial society. White settler societies, founded as they were on the denial of basic political rights to the indigenous population whose land they had usurped, were notoriously racist — and racism seemed to burn most fiercely in the hearts of the colonists when they were resisted by their subjects, as they were in Vietnam. The census of 1907 listed only 189 French in Laos, of whom seventeen were women. The census also counted métis (those of mixed race), of whom there were already 49, some fourteen years after the French took control. The total population of Laos was counted as 585,285, though the accuracy of this figure has to be treated liberally. At its height the French population in Laos was hardly more than several hundred, most working for the colonial state in one capacity or another and most were concentrated in the main administrative centres. Some provinces were overseen by only a handful of French.”

“Colonial society in Laos was inevitably affected by the racist notions that circulated throughout the French empire and beyond, but these views were always tempered by republican ideals. French colonial society was divided by different racial attitudes and by class. What was galling for the French-educated indigenous Lao elite, many of whom were also aristocrats, was to experience attitudes of racial superiority held by lower-class Frenchmen. Prince Phetsarath, who was one of the country’s modernising leaders, would refer to them in his memoirs as ‘the colonial riffraff.’ Because colonial society was exaggeratedly bourgeois, especially among those who came with their wives, poor whites were an embarrassment.”

“The urban centres were relatively small, and except in Luang Phrabang their populations were predominantly Vietnamese. The 1930s saw the Vietnamese population almost double as a result of political and social unrest in Vietnam, and because there were no barriers to their migration to Laos. It caused much of the urban growth between 1930 and 1943, and as such alarmed the small Lao elite.

Anti-Vietnamese sentiment was central to the Lao nationalism that stirred in the 1940s.”

“When the French took over Laos there was no sense of a Lao nation among the population that fell within the boundaries that they mapped. Even for the French, Laos was, at that time, more a cartographic reality than a social or historical one. But it was the French who brought the idea of the modern nation to Laos, and this idea would grow slowly among the population over the following 50 years.”

“In 1931, in a deliberate attempt by the French to redirect Buddhist learning away from Siam, a Buddhist Institute was established in Vientiane, and another in 1932 in the Kingdom of Luang Phrabang. (The establishment of two institutes, however, was indicative of the continuing fragmentation of national space.) The first institute of this type had been set up in Phnom Penh in 1930 and monks from Laos encouraged to go there; monks from Cambodia played an important role in the establishment of the institutes in Laos. In this way the French turned the eyes of both of their Theravada Buddhist colonies away from Siam and towards each other.

This turning of Lao eyes away from Siam had already found expression in the first Lao-language basic history textbooks written at the instigation of the French and published in the early 1920s. What is striking about these textbooks for a modern reader is that they begin with a discussion of the southern Mon-Khmer minorities in Laos and of their connection to the ancient civilisation of Champa. This subtly de-emphasises Lao roots in a wider Tai world to the west and attempts to connect it to a history of ‘Indochina.’ The first schoolbooks written in Lao were produced in 1918, and S.P. Nginn helped write the first text for the study of the Lao language the following year. The importance of these texts is that for the first time a conventional national history appears, presenting a sequence of pre-modern states and their kings as the natural precursors of Laos in the twentieth century. This message, even though it was in Lao, was received by very few people within the country. The next important step in this creation of a Lao national history was Paul Le Boulanger’s comprehensive Histoire du Laos Français (1931), the prototype for all subsequent nationalist histories of Laos. In his preface Le Boulanger acknowledged the help of Prince Phetsarath, who was acutely aware of the national histories that had already come into vogue in neighbouring Siam. It was also in the schools that pupils were first introduced to potential national symbols, such as the map of Laos and the idea of a national flag.”

“Just before the outbreak of World War II, another challenge loomed for the French in Laos when Siam changed its name to Thailand as part of a bid to unite all Tai-speaking peoples. This was primarily a propaganda appeal to Tai living under the British and the French, and there was no suggestion that it would be carried out by armed force. Nevertheless, the French and the Thai fought a brief war in December 1940-January 1941 after border negotiations that had been going on for years broke down. The Thai, assured of the backing of their new allies the Japanese, attempted to take back the territories on the west bank of the Mekong that they felt had been unfairly taken from them in 1904. Japanese arbitration of the dispute claimed the Mekong was the ‘natural’ frontier and thus Bassac in the south and Xaignabouri in the north were reoccupied by Thailand. This was an enormous blow to French prestige in Indochina.

Nowhere was this felt more than in the Kingdom of Luang Phrabang which, while still loyal to France, had over the years under its tutelage strengthened and come to better understand its position in the context of Laos and Indochina. King Sisavangvong’s son, Prince Savang Vatthana, after studying politics and law in France, had returned to take up his position as Crown Prince and adviser to the King. Deeply impressed by his sojourn in France, he understood the modern world of politics and knew how to negotiate with the French. The bitterness of the King at the loss of Xaignabouri Province was thus played to its advantage by, the court in Luang Phrabang which, in compensation, demanded sovereignty over the whole of Laos. While a confidential French report in March 1941 recognised this as ‘a latent aspiration in the hearts of most Laotians’ they felt they could not agree, primarily because they feared for the loyalty of the royal house of Champasak in the south which, if it was going to be subordinated to any other royal house, might have chosen Bangkok. The loss of Bassac had already made the French hold in the south tenuous. Thus, on 21 August 1941 in Vientiane, Prince Savang Vatthana and the Résident-Supérieur, M. Roques, signed an accord which attached the provinces of Xiang Khoang and Vientiane to the Kingdom of Luang Phrabang, and placed the protectorate on the same footing as Cambodia and Annam (northern Vietnam). The French also let it be known that they had no objection to the extension south of the Kingdom after the new arrangement had consolidated itself. The change was accompanied by a significant modernisation of the administration of the Kingdom, with the abolition of the King’s council and its replacement with a ministerial system.”

“The belated recognition of the importance of education for nation-building was shown by the fact that between 1940 and 1945, more schools were built in Laos than had been for the past 40 years. As yet another French report on the situation put it: ‘If the protectorate government does not succeed in creating an autonomous Laotian individuality — at least among those who have received education — then they will feel themselves increasingly attracted towards the neighbouring country.”

“After the surrender of the Japanese, the Chinese 93rd Division of 16,000 poor peasant soldiers was dispatched from Yunnan by the Allies to disarm the Japanese in the north, while below the 16th parallel the British were in charge. The British facilitated the return of the French, but the Chinese obstructed it. Most disruptive, however, were the activities of the communist-controlled Viet Minh among the Vietnamese population of the country. In short order, one found pro-French, pro-Thai and pro-Vietnamese supporters in Laos. The political manoeuvring was intense and confused, and no one could really claim to have a clear view of the balance of forces inside the country over that period.

The Luang Phrabang monarchy, which had been treated benignly by the French, felt that, given French promises of a united Lao Kingdom (reconfirmed by de Gaulle), it was best to manoeuvre from under their protective wing, especially in the face of perceived threats from China and Vietnam. The inability of Laos to protect itself from invading armies was abundantly obvious, and not only did Luang Phrabang find the 93rd Division reminiscent of the Haw pillagers of the last century, but the growing power of Vietnam also alarmed them. Fear of Vietnamese intentions was also a major motivation for Lao Issara supporters, many of whom believed that the Vietnamese wished to swallow up Laos (although paradoxically they often found themselves relying on the better organised Viet Minh forces to keep the encroaching French at bay). With his eye on the Vietnamese in his midst Phetsarath, in his October 1945 appeal to the Allies, would say that the Lao had become, on their own soil, a poor and backward minority. Previously, he and the Lao Issara had been depending on America opposing the return of the French to Indochina, which was the policy of President Roosevelt. Roosevelt’s death in April 1945, however, had dashed these hopes.

In the cities of Laos distrust became endemic between Lao and Vietnamese.”

“Although communists played no direct role in the Lao Issara movement, the movement’s failure and the ensuing recriminations would ensure a core of recruits for the future Lao communist party. And failure of the Lao Issara was ensured once the Allies agreed to the return of the French, which among other things meant no foreign aid to support the new government. Within a very short period of time the Issara government ran out of money to pay for its own running, let alone anything else, like an army, for example. It had asserted control over the opium trade, but in reality could not control it.”

“‘As for the population, it was mostly silent, used to the established order and did not appear hardly concerned by this aspiration for the country’s independence, and personally I think that it was mostly loyal to the ancienne administration, that is to say, the French!’ French guerillas operated from the countryside, and from the south a main French force, supported by Prince Boun Oum Na Champasak and other pro-French Lao, slowly rolled up the cities along the Mekong. A bloody battle took place at Thakhek, on 21 March 1946, where the Viet Minh, Souphanouvong and a small Lao contingent stood their ground. Four fighter planes called in by the French caused perhaps hundreds of casualties among the civilians, mostly Vietnamese, and Souphanouvong himself was wounded while withdrawing from the engagement.

In a last desperate attempt to legitimise their government the Lao Issara asked King Sisavangvong to re-ascend the throne as constitutional monarch, to which he agreed. It had only been the continued presence of the Chinese 93rd Division that had stopped a final French assault on Vientiane, but in April the Chinese announced the Division’s withdrawal. At the end of April the French took Vientiane, by May they had entered Luang Phrabang, and the Lao Issara leadership fled into exile in Thailand.”

“The French decision to re-assert colonial control in Indochina and elsewhere was not inevitable. Indeed, in the face of the rise of anti-colonial sentiment inside France and the broadly anti-colonial stance of America, now the most powerful nation in the world, France almost did grant her colonies independence. Once France took the decision to return, it only begrudgingly conceded greater internal autonomy in Laos, and there were many Frenchmen in the colonies who were reluctant to give up their colonial privileges.

But Laos had changed more than they realised, and even those Lao who were prepared to work with the French saw their presence as a temporary, albeit necessary, compromise before the granting of full independence. On 27 August 1946 a modus vivendi was signed that endorsed the unity of Laos as a constitutional monarchy within the French Union. To ensure the ascendance of the Luang Phrabang monarchy a protocol, kept secret at the time, had Prince Boun Oum renounce claims to a separate principality in the south in return for a position as Inspector-General of the kingdom for life. In November the lost territories of Xaignabouri and parts of Champasak were returned by the Thai. In December 1946, elections were held for a 44-seat Constituent Assembly, which met for the first time in March 1947 and endorsed a Constitution. New elections were held in August, and the National Assembly of the first Royal Lao Government endorsed Prince Souvannarath as Prime Minister. A new political party quickly took shape — the Lao National Union, under the leadership of Bong Souvannavong and Kou Voravong, who raised criticisms of the continuing role of the French in the country’s administration. Similar criticisms were broadcast by the Issara members in exile.”

“In July 1949, under pressure from within and without, a new General Convention was signed between France and the Royal Lao Government (RL), which granted Laos much greater autonomy than previously, and was enshrined in a new Constitution in September. This satisfied the demands of most of the Lao Issara leadership, who returned to Vientiane under an amnesty. Laos could now join the United Nations, although foreign policy and defence remained largely in French hands. At that time this was not as unusual as it may seem. Australia, for example, had become independent in 1901, but Britain remained in charge of its foreign policy until 1945. But, the old verities of a colonial world were disintegrating; this kind of divided sovereignty had become anachronistic, and so in October 1953 full sovereignty was attained by the RLG. The military defeat of the French at the hands of the Viet Minh in 1954 saw the end of French colonialism throughout Indochina.”

“Under an unusually cosmopolitan elite, Lao in the 1950s looked forward to building a modern nation. Soon, however, they were faced with the fact of poverty and the reality of geography which placed Laos in the middle of the Cold War. American aid poured into Vientiane for development, but caused corruption and an unwarranted growth in the power of the military. Many Lao opted for a policy of neutralism, while a small Lao communist movement opposed any alignment with the USA. They were backed by the North Vietnamese who, determined to use trails through Laos to infiltrate into South Vietnam, ignored Lao desires for neutrality. A series of military coups and counter-coups in Vientiane in the early 1960s gave the Lao communists a chance to grow and they made significant inroads on RG control of the country. Alarmed, America began its air war, and Laos was swept into the Vietnam War.”

“One of the most striking changes in the immediate aftermath of the collapse of the Lao Issara government was the Lao-isation of the main cities in the country, as perhaps more than 80 per cent of the Vietnamese population fled back to Vietnam or into Thailand. This meant that Lao would now play a greater role in the running of their country, taking over the positions previously occupied by Vietnamese in the colonial administration. As welcome as this was in theory it was, however, difficult to put into practice because of the failure of the French colonial education system to train sufficient numbers of bureaucrats, despite the educational reforms of the early 1940s. This fact, plus the limited autonomy granted by the French in 1946, meant that French bureaucrats continued to play an important role in state administration up until 1949, when Lao asserted control over all of their ministries.”

“In the mid-1950s Laos had around 5600 kilometres of roads, of which around 800 were surfaced and therefore useable in the rainy season. In 1945 there were only nineteen registered vehicles in the country, a figure which had risen to around 100 by the early 1950s. The Mekong River and its tributaries constituted the main travel arteries, but only in some instances were boats driven by motor power. Air transport was minimal, and telecommunication was confined to the main centres. Telephone calls to provincial centres would not become possible until 1967. Communication throughout the country, therefore, was slow and intermittent. Without improvement there could be no serious commercial development of agriculture or exploitation of natural resources, and thus no revenue to initiate serious economic development.”

“At the time of the Geneva Conference on Indochina in May 1954, called by the Great Powers to settle the war between the French and the Vietnamese, the Lao communist movement was tiny. But it was backed by the militarily powerful Viet Minh, which had occupied large areas of northern Laos and had helped in the recruiting of more Lao cadres. It was the North Vietnamese who secured recognition for the Lao communists at this conference, as a guerilla movement which had rights to assembly areas in the provinces of Houaphan and Phongsali, both of which shared a border with north Vietnam.”

“Throughout the Third World Leninist parties were formidable opponents, whether in elections or armed struggle, because of the discipline they exercised over their members. The disciplined unity of these parties for many seemed to embody the nationalist ideal of unity. Their modern, apparently rational bureaucratic structure and egalitarian recruitment also seemed to be a break from the ‘feudal’ nature of parties that were organised around the phu nyai and patronage so typical of Laos and other developing countries. A further reason for the effectiveness of the NLHX against the other parties in Laos was that in structure it provided a parallel ‘government,’ unlike the RG parties which, for all their nepotism, kept party structures and government structures largely separate, as at least a gesture towards liberal democratic practices. Communist support was also spread by terror, that is, by the execution of reactionary leaders at the village and district levels. Not only was this an effective form of intimidation, but it was familiar — the use of force by outsiders to assert political and social power was all the peasants had known. They had no experience of liberal democracy. The NLHX was also able to effectively redirect resentment against outsiders by mobilising sentiment against ‘foreigners’, who were allegedly corrupting and wrecking the country. The maladroit American aid effort made this task all the easier.

Even with all these factors working for the communists, their influence in Laos remained small in 1958.”

“Up until the time of the coup PL forces in Laos remained small, maybe several thousand strong. Their objectives throughout remained subordinate to those of the Vietnamese Communist Party, whose main aim was to ensure that no foreign bases could be installed in Laos (also a condition of the Geneva Accords). The prospect, for example, of a US airbase on the Plain of Jars within easy striking distance of Hanoi was a strategic nightmare for the DRV. If a neutralist coalition government in Laos could keep foreign bases out the DRV would support it. If rightists won the day in Laos and tried to deny access to the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the DRV was ready to commit regular forces under a PL umbrella to secure that access. In 1958, however, both Souvanna Phoumas government, and then Phouis, insisted that the conditions of the 1954 Geneva agreement had been fulfilled in Laos. This was unacceptable to the North Vietnamese who, through Prime Minister Pham Van Dong, declared in early 1958 that solutions to the problems of the three states of ‘Indochina,’ as outlined at Geneva, were one and indivisible. In other words, try as the Lao might, the North Vietnamese would not allow them to separate their internal problems from those of the DRV. It was this ruthless determination which would drag Laos into the maelstrom of the Vietnam War. During 1959, against the background of a shift to the right in Vientiane, the PL and the DRV intensified their armed engagements in the northern provinces. The split in the anti-communist forces caused by Kong Le’s coup was a godsend for them because it made possible a military alignment with the neutralist forces against the right. When Kong Le established his headquarters on the Plain of Jars the Soviets, claiming to carry out their commitments to Souvanna Phouma’s government, were able to fly in not only military supplies that supported Kong Le’s army but also PL units which were able to transform themselves into a regular army. This alliance spread the field of operation of the PL and extended their control of village administrations. Furthermore, many of the young students and others who rallied to Kong Le in Vientiane had been airlifted up to the Plain, where large numbers were recruited by the PL. Beijing’s declaration of support for liberation movements, spurred on by its competition with the USSR for hegemony in the world communist movement, during 1960 saw the Chinese provide the PL forces with enough weapons and supplies to equip 20,000 men.

The split in the anti-communist forces caused disarray and demoralisation in the RLA which, under Phoumi, fought uninspiringly. They were no match for North Vietnamese regulars, who were often used to spearhead assaults while PL troops were used to mop up or pursue the panicked RLA soldiers. The lacklustre performance of Phoumi’s forces dashed rightist hopes of a military solution to the Lao crisis. King Savang Vatthana came under increasing behind-the-scenes pressure to enter the political fray to form a broadly based government. He refused because to do so would compromise the constitutional monarchy, perhaps fatally, and he felt he could be more effective where he was.”

“In Laos, unlike in Vietnam, Cambodia or Thailand, the dominant ethnic group is not the overwhelming majority. Ethnic Lao make up between 40 and 50 per cent of the population, with the rest (often described as ‘hill-tribes’) divided into many different groups. This general description is misleading in several ways. To begin with, included under the category ‘hilltribe’ have been the upland, non-Buddhist Tai, the ancestors of the Lao and Thai, whose gradual cultural conversion into Lao and Thai continues today. These groups were organised into muang that occasionally grew into petty states and therefore cannot be described as ‘tribal’. The Buddhist Tai Lue of northwestern Laos are also sometimes called ‘tribal’, but are almost indistinguishable from Lao. In the south of Laos, in Khammouan, Savannakhet and Saravan, one finds the Phu Thai, who are non-Buddhist Tai, like the Black and White Tai to the north. Many of these groups are in the process of becoming Lao, and this general process of Lao-isation blurs the boundaries between them. Thus persons of broad Tai ethnicity perhaps make up between 60 and 70 per cent of the population. The degree to which various groups perceive or mark their boundaries has varied from one place to another and over time, tending to vary with the context in which people find themselves.”

“The granting of citizenship in the 1947 constitution was, according to Touby, a momentous occasion:

At last, for the first time in the Hmong collective memories, the Hmong really had a country like any other people in the world. The wandering life without any specific tie of the Hmong people seemed to come to an end, in Laos… The first step towards making the Hmong people be part of the Laotian nation had been achieved, but there was still a long way to go to complete the process.

Touby encouraged Hmong participation in Lao national and annual festivals, and in particular encouraged the learning of Lao language and education. While social and cultural change among the Hmong accelerated in the 1950s, including the influence of Christian missionaries, it was not traumatic. Growing Hmong interaction with lowland Lao demanded adjustment on both sides, and it occurred slowly.”

“War displaced tens of thousands of refugees inside Laos. The highland province Xiang Khoang became a major battleground between Vietnamese and Lao communists on one side, and the RLG and American bombers on the other. A Hmong General, Vang Pao, along with his irregular forces, often bore the brunt of the fierce fighting in the highlands. Meanwhile Lao society was maturing, and the 1960s saw the growth of a thoughtful and critical intelligentsia. They would disappear with the communist victory. Economic crisis in the early 1970s coupled with America’s desire to retreat from Indochina had the RLG enter a coalition government in 1973 on unfavourable terms. The communists cleverly undermined the agreement, while the continued presence of North Vietnamese troops and Americas withdrawal of financial and military support ensured the collapse of the RG.”

“One peculiar cultural manifestation of change was the appearance of ‘cowboyism’ among some younger men in the cities. They broke starkly with traditional attire by dressing in tight blue jeans or black pants, wearing sunglasses and cowboy hats. Some even outfitted themselves with holsters and pistols. Their slick language, their drinking and in a sense their narcissism set them at odds with traditional standards.”

“Their cowboyism was an attempt to fabricate a new identity in the rapidly changing world around them. Given the American influence in Laos at the time, it was not surprising that they drew on American cultural themes that would set them apart from the Francophile elite. The ‘cowboys’ were for a time a highly visible marker of cultural change, but by 1975, as a wave of radical nationalism spread through the country, they had all but disappeared.”

“The collapse of US military support had caused demoralisation in the army, although some commanders fought on, in particular Vang Pao. In April 1975, a major battle took place between his forces and the PL for Sala Phu Khoun, a major junction north of Vientiane — it ended in the retreat of Vang Pao’s forces with the road left open to the capital. In Cambodia, Phnom Penh fell to the Khmer Rouge on 17 April, then Saigon fell to the NVA on 30 April. In the face of these neighbouring upheavals, the King’s Council finally relented to PL pressure and King Savang Vatthana signed a decree on 13 April dissolving the National Assembly, with no guarantee that elections would be held. Following the victories in Cambodia and Vietnam, the communists’ march towards complete power in Laos intensified. Anti-American demonstrations were organised throughout the country, and on 9 May a large crowd converged on the US Embassy, its leaders demanding the resignation of ‘rightist ministers’ from the government. Among those who resigned and promptly went into exile was the Minister of Defence, Sisouk Na Champasak, who was replaced by the PL General Kham Ouan Boupha, who set about dismantling what was left of RLG control of the armed forces. In this rapidly deteriorating situation Vang Pao also fled. The King was on a tour of Houaphan Province at the time of these events. Guided by Souphanouvong and treated with dissembling respect by the PL, the long-time anti-communist King was feted with revolutionary songs, something he bore stoically. By the time he returned to Luang Phrabang the virtual coup in Vientiane was over. On 19 May PL forces began to enter the Mekong towns of Paksé, Savannakhet and Thakhek. The flames of anti-American feeling were fanned across the country, and demonstrators occupied USAID headquarters in Vientiane and Luang Phrabang, demanding an end to the organisation’s activities. American personnel began leaving immediately and by June, after 20 years, USAID in Laos had closed shop. These ‘popular uprisings,’ spearheaded by small but powerful groups of administration and replaced them with their own appointees. The crowds that gathered to witness the sacking of administrative buildings mostly watched passively, and no police intervened. The mixed police forces were dissolved at the end of July and PL troops assumed their role. In August a new revolutionary administrative committee took power in Luang Phrabang, and on 23 August the PL declared to a large demonstration that the city of Vientiane had been ‘completely liberated.’”

“What is most intriguing about the communist takeover of Laos in 1975 is the slow pace at which it was executed. Victory by their allies in Vietnam did not lead to a sudden military assault on the Mekong towns in Laos by the PL. This could only have been done with the help of Vietnamese troops, an option that was unacceptable as it could have provoked reaction by the Thais. The slowness of the takeover was also partly due to the fact that the PL’s support was weak among the two-thirds of the population living in the RLG-controlled zone. To grab for power too early and abolish the monarchy risked an anti-PL uprising. Thus, using the legitimacy of the coalition government and proclaiming their desire for reconciliation and their support of the monarchy, they slowly whittled away the opposition’s power base. Souphanouvong’s role in this process was absolutely crucial — his declarations of support for the monarchy convinced many doubters, especially in the army, that the PL side really desired peace and reconciliation. Only this explains the meekness and willingness with which generals and hundreds of other army officers went off to the interior for ‘re-education.’ They and their wives were told they would be gone for only a few months. For many it was ten or fifteen years, and others never returned. The implacable attitude of the communists towards their opponents was revealed in September, when a ‘people’s court’ announced that the ‘rightist’ Ministers who had fled had been sentenced to death in absentia, and another 25 former leaders were sentenced to 25-year prison terms. This slow decapitation of the RLG set the stage for the final takeover.

On 26 November another orchestrated demonstration demanded the dissolution of the coalition government and the abolition of the monarchy. Souvanna Phouma and Souphanouvong flew to Luang Phrabang where they gained a letter of abdication from the King. On 1–2 December, a secretly convened Congress of People’s Representatives was held in the gymnasium of the former US school in Vientiane where the Crown Prince, Vong Savang, read out his father’s letter of abdication. The establishment of the Lao People’s Democratic Republic was then proposed, with Souphanouvong as President and Kaysone Phomvihan as Prime Minister. All other members elected to the new government were members of the LHX. The one-party state had arrived in Laos.”

“The harsh regime that came to power in late 1975 caused many Lao to flee their country. Hmong fought on for several years after the RG’s collapse, but were savagely crushed in 1977. The LPDR put in place all the usual trappings of a tightly controlled communist society. However, its attempts at radical economic change, such as agricultural collectivisation, were a failure and thus in the 1980s market-style reforms began. The 1990s saw considerable relaxation of state control of everyday life, with bars opening and young people beginning to dress in modern styles. The state, however, kept tight control over the mass media and political activity, although by the late 1990s there were some signs that this control was slipping.”

“If the beginning of the Royal Lao Government in the late 1940s had seen the fleeing of the Vietnamese and a Lao-isation of the cities, the first years of the Lao People’s Democratic Republic (LPDR) saw the fleeing of Chinese merchants and most educated Lao. The composition of the cities changed again as many upland Tai and various minorities came into town with the revolutionaries. In some respects the countryside reclaimed the cities, and indeed city residents often referred to the PL as khon pa; ‘jungle men’, with all the connotations of ignorant country hicks. It is a term one sometimes still hears today to explain one policy failure or another by the LPDR. The shutters came down on most businesses in the cities, cars disappeared from the roads as fuel prices shot up with the collapse of the economy, and bicycles reappeared on the streets in large numbers. Lipstick and make-up faded from women’s faces, little jewellery was visible, and simple austere clothing became the unspoken rule. It was as if Vientiane had been suddenly propelled backwards into the 1950s, except for the sombre mood that had settled on the populace as the reality of the revolution dawned upon them.”

“Many individuals quickly found life under communism intolerable, and the scale of the ensuing exodus after 1975 was unprecedented. Perhaps it is only comparable to the depopulation of the lowlands by the Siamese following Chao Anou’s revolt in the early nineteenth century. The raw refugee figures disguise the disproportionate number of people with skills and education who fled. The exodus of the old elite had begun as a trickle before the final communist takeover, and turned into a flood over the following years as remnants of the elite and the country’s small, educated population left. Soon they were joined by peasants voting with their feet against the regimes agricultural policies. By 1980, 10 per cent of Laos’s total population had fled, and more would follow, enfeebling the country’s development in the late twentieth century.

The first imperative of the burgeoning totalitarian state was the enforcement of order, which was achieved by sending off to labour camps the military and political personnel of the old regime, and the outlawing of all organisations, including newspapers, magazines and journals, that claimed any autonomy from the state. The key mechanism for the swallowing up of Lao civil society was the NLHX, in 1979 renamed the Neo Lao Sang Xat (NSX), the Lao Front for National Construction. This was the umbrella organisation for all potentially autonomous forms of social organisation, such as the Buddhist sangha, businessmen, minorities, workers’ unions, youth and women’s organisations, and so on. In the villages that made up the cities, and in the rural villages, committees comprising the heads of the various Front organisations took control, and where possible Communist Party members became village headmen. From late 1975 they organised mass meetings of villagers to study the party line. These seemingly endless meetings, although initially greeted with enthusiasm by some, soon became stultifying. Demonstrations of ‘spontaneous’ mass enthusiasm for the revolution were compulsory, however. Political cadres took charge of the few technically competent bureaucrats who remained behind, and politics was placed in command. The LPRP set out to create society anew and to give birth to the new socialist man.

As part of the ‘cultural revolution,’ wayward youths were forced to conform to styles dictated by the party, in what can only be described as a puritanical backlash. As journalist John Everingham described in early 1976:

Western-influenced youths were taken to task for their dress; girls, too, were criticized. Youths were dragged in for haircuts and women admonished not to wear any makeup. To listen to Thai radio stations was to risk being labeled ‘reactionary,’ as with playing western music. Both the pursuit of pleasure or profit was denounced as being unpatriotic while the task of re-building the country remained. For this people were urged to go to bed early.

Those who failed to comply or were deemed prostitutes were sent off to camps situated on islands in the middle of the Ngam Ngum Dam north of Vientiane.”

“The LPRP did not carry out large-scale massacres of the former leadership like their Khmer Rouge ‘comrades’ in Cambodia (they remained ‘comrades’ until 1979), nor did the Vietnamese. Nevertheless, many people did not return from the camps, and to this day relatives have never been informed officially of what happened to fathers, sons or loved ones. Of those who did return many quickly fled as refugees. Whatever the imperfections of the old RG, it never attempted political repression on this huge and vengeful scale.”

“The soldiers told them to return to their villages, but the crowd rushed the bridge, whereupon the troops opened fire, killing five people and wounding around 30 others. A Thai photographer, Anant Chomcheun, who was on the scene the following day, reported seeing PL troops herding groups of Hmong back to the hills at gunpoint, while others melted into the countryside off the highway to continue their trek towards Thailand. I want to stay with my father Vang Pao, one Hmong told the photographer. By the end of 1975 the Hmong refugee population in Thailand had reached around 34,000. News of the killings at Hin Heup quickly spread, confirming the Hmong’s worst fears. At Long Cheng, Hmong soldiers and officers had been rounded up and sent off to seminar, and when they did not return their families were convinced they had been executed.”

“Opposition was intolerable to the new leaders in Vientiane, and in 1977 they decided on a showdown with the Hmong resistance. This coincided with a treaty drawn up with Vietnam which legitimised the use of Vietnamese forces against the resistance; perhaps upwards of 30,000 NVA troops were used in the large-scale operation launched against the Hmong in 1977. The fighting by all accounts was ferocious and included shelling, aerial bombing with napalm, and perhaps even the use of chemical agents. The Hmong resistance fighters lived with their families and therefore operations against them entailed indiscriminate civilian casualties, leading to charges of genocide when the survivors staggered into the camps in Thailand and told their stories.”

“In July 1977 Laos signed a 20-year Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation with the Socialist Republic of Vietnam (as the country was renamed after official reunification in 1976). Both insecure economically, and surrounded by an increasingly problematic international environment, the two moved to shore up their long-standing alliance. Geopolitically, the Vietnamese communists played a crucial role in supporting this new state because its existence conformed to Hanoi’s foreign policy aim of being surrounded by friendly socialist states.”

“The Lao communist movement had been dependent on Vietnamese advice and support from the very beginning. Indeed, the relationship seemed a natural one for the Lao leadership who had worked with the Vietnamese for so long and spoke their language easily. This was even more so for leaders like Kaysone, whose early enculturation was Vietnamese and remained bi-cultural throughout his life, or indeed for Souphanouvong, who had married a Vietnamese. Others among the leadership were also Lao-Vietnamese or had taken Vietnamese wives. The broader Lao leadership had all been schooled in the Vietnamese version of Marxism-Leninism, cadre schools were overseen by Vietnamese instructors; texts for pupils in these schools were Vietnamese ones, many of them translated into Lao.”

“Even if Vietnam was somehow considered the exemplary revolutionary model, its mission civilatrice in Laos stumbled on the fact that Laos too was an underdeveloped agrarian-based economy and society, not a model of ‘advanced industrial socialism.’ That role was fulfilled by the Soviet Union. By 1979 the USSR, along with communist Eastern Europe, was providing Laos with 60 per cent of its external assistance, as well as substantial military aid. Proportionally it was not much different from the US role before 1975, except that roubles did not have the buying power of dollars. Furthermore, the products of Soviet industrialisation compared badly with those from the capitalist world, and the Soviets were never a pole of cultural attraction. By 1976 there were already around 1500 Soviet experts at work at all levels in Laos — economic advisers, professors, doctors and mechanics. With Eastern Europeans and a number of Cubans, the adviser population would later swell to 4000. They took over some of the compounds evacuated by American personnel, and where there had once been a ‘Little America’ was now a ‘Little Moscow. While many Americans had either volunteered or chosen to go to Laos, the Soviets and Eastern Europeans were largely assigned there, and fulfilled their aid role begrudgingly, with little sympathy for or knowledge of the local culture.”

“Although the Chinese had for a long time provided the PL with support and had thousands of workers in the north building a road south from Oudomxai to Luang Phrabang, they had been frozen out of establishing closer relations with the Lao by the Vietnamese. The Chinese welcomed the Lao revolution and continued to supply aid, but the conflict over Cambodia brought aid to a halt in 1978 when, in line with the Vietnamese, Kay- sone denounced Beijing as ‘international reactionaries’. Very few Lao had ever studied in China and only a few of them defected to China as a result of the conflict. Those that remained were for a time under a cloud of suspicion.

Relations with China would only begin to change radically for the better after the settlement of the dispute over Cambodia, and the collapse of communism elsewhere thrust the remaining communist states of Asia into each other’s arms.”

“In the worsening security context of the late 1970s the Lao communists attempted one other radical reform – agricultural collectivization.”

“Two and a half months later, when the number of cooperatives in the country was said to stand at 2500, the Central Committee of the LPRP stopped the campaign. A statement on 14 July said: ‘Efforts to mobilize farmers to join agricultural cooperatives or set up new ones during the current production season should be immediately and strictly suspended while the people are engaging in production in order rapidly and effectively to increase production.’ The overriding reason for the suspension was that it had become obvious to the party that collectivisation was seriously disrupting production. It realised that the country could not afford another year of disastrous results this time brought on by man-made factors. Cadres, according to the statement, had simply concentrated on the numerical growth of cooperatives without ensuring an increase in production. Cooperatives had been rushed together without adequate preparation; peasants had been forced to join and means of production such as cows and buffaloes had been expropriated or peasants offered minimal compensation for them. This created serious tensions in the countryside that not only threatened the economic basis of the campaign, but also its intended security benefits.”

“The aims of the campaign were threatening to backfire on the communist government. The danger had become most apparent in the fact that it was no longer the members of the old elite, or people from the urban areas, streaming across the Mekong into refugee camps in Thailand, but the supposed backbone of the LPRP, the peasants.

It was this that forced the government to retreat from its pursuit of an orthodox communist programme, and in December 1979 Kaysone announced the first steps towards a form of market socialism. Restrictions on some forms of small private enterprise were lifted, and there was a shift towards a greater use of market prices in the trading of goods.”

“Growing instability in the communist bloc, which now supplied some 70 per cent of foreign assistance, set off alarm bells in the Lao leadership. It acted swiftly before the dramatic collapse of Comecon-supplied aid to the tune of US$1 million in 1989, down from US$52 million in 1988, to zero in 1990. The coincidence of a drought and a shift in terms of trade for electricity (a major export item) in 1988, also threatened the fragile Lao economy. The new policies promised to offset these problems by an inflow of private capital, growing customs receipts, and attracting greater inflows of aid from the west.

Clearly a more outward-oriented strategy had been in the wind for several years. No doubt with an eye to encouraging international investor confidence in the rule of law, thousands of detainees from the old regime were released in December 1986. There was recognition that the LPDR no longer faced a serious threat from the resistance, and that there was growing social stability. This message was reinforced by the withdrawal of the remaining 45,000 Vietnamese combat troops from Laos over 1988–89. Part of the intention behind the new foreign investment laws was to encourage overseas Lao refugees to invest in the Lao economy, and for this they needed political reassurance. The economic reforms and the release of political prisoners led quickly to a more politically relaxed atmosphere, and people were encouraged by the announcement of the first national elections since before 1975, to be held at the end of 1988 and in early 1989. The elections were strictly controlled by the LPRP – of the 79 deputies elected, 65 were party members while the other fourteen were vetted by the party.

Nevertheless, the populace began to feel some sense of participation in the political process, and some were hopeful that it would be a step towards greater democratisation. The winds of change blowing through other communist societies were beginning to be felt in Laos, and there was revived talk of a constitution, which the LPRP had ruled without since 1975.”

“A final draft of the constitution was adopted by the Supreme People’s Assembly (SPA) in August 1991, by which time it had undergone some important modifications, suggesting that the actions of the dissidents may not have been entirely in vain. The controversial first article of earlier drafts had been dropped. However, the role of the Party was reintroduced in article 3, where it is described as the leading nucleus’ of the political system, and the LPDR is defined as a ‘People’s Democratic State,’ all of whose organisations ‘function in accordance with the principle of democratic centralism.’

Socialism is not mentioned at all. It was, however, the guiding principle in the resolutions passed at the Party’s Fifth Congress in March 1991, and has remained so in subsequent resolutions. Perhaps the most important development to emerge from this general process of change was the establishment of a judiciary and the evolution of a body of law, at least relating to the economy, one of the main reasons for the original legal reforms. The National Assembly Standing Committee (dominated by the LPRP) remains the final interpreter of the law, rather than the courts, and has the power to remove judges. Such a provision ensures that the Party gets its way in politically contentious trials, and makes a mockery of the constitution’s claim to respect individual political and religious rights and freedoms. In economic disputes the law is increasingly seen to act impartially and this in itself provides some cultural reinforcement of at least the principle of the rule of law.”

“Usually marginal to their lives, it does impinge on them when cadres appear in the villages to demand that they relocate to the lowlands. In many instances in the immediate aftermath of the revolution this was done at the point of a gun. These days, under the watchful eyes of foreign aid donors, more subtle persuasion is used. Relocation aims not only at increasing the state’s political control of its population, but also at delivering better social services. It is also concerned with the ecological impact of upland farming. The policy of relocation was first recommended to the RG by Prince Somsanith in the early 1960s, and Ouan Rathikhoun saw it as a solution to the problem of opium growing. The issues involved, everyone agrees, are complex. Under the LPDR, however, they have been simplified by the imperatives of politics and thus Party commands for relocation have too often been executed without proper preparation so that the minorities have ended up more impoverished than before. This has been a potent source of resentment.

The more relaxed policy on movement in the 1990s has also fed discontent, particularly among the Hmong. Allowed to visit relatives in America, and have those relatives visit Laos, debates among the Hmong over their past and future, which are vigorous overseas, have made their way back into communities in Laos, setting up a discourse parallel to the one promoted by the LSX. Hmong desires for autonomy have been hardened by exposure in America to the politics of ethnicity.”