Episode #228: Shan Chronicles
“In Chiang Mai, in 1998, I met some Burmese activists and I was not only impressed and humbled by their incredible experience, but also became engaged and interested as well,” says Jane Ferguson. “The direct experience of working with folks and getting to know a little bit more about the ethnic tapestry, and then the ongoing civil war in Burma, made me want to ask more anthropological questions related to that.”
This interest would ultimately lead to an academic career, and the subject of today’s talk is Ferguson’s recent book, Repossessing Shanland: Myanmar, Thailand, and a Nation-State Deferred. The book’s title refers to Shan attempts to reclaim their land and community after many years of conflict. “This idea of repossession as both a concept and as a metaphor, it engages these different aspects of, ‘What does rightful ownership mean? What does the law mean? What does territory mean?,’ across different historical time periods.”
Ferguson’s study of Shanland— which borders China, Laos, and Thailand, and encompasses the infamous “Golden Triangle”— starts with the legendary heroic figure, Suerkhan Fa, whose story blends history with mythology. “Every major Southeast Asian nation state that's based on an ethnic majority group will have its national heroes that lived in the past,” she explains. “Their kingdoms were in decline, but then there was somebody strong and charismatic who was able to unite all of the kingdoms into a strong and thriving empire. The idea of a historical Golden Age is really important for ideas of nationalism in the present.” Her theory that contemporary Shan leaders are working to “repossess” the region connects to Suerkhan Fa as the heroic figure who returned from exile to create a Shan empire that united its divisions. In this way, the Suerkhan Fa narrative underscores the historic lack of unity among Shan groups, including into the present.
Ferguson discusses the tendency to superimpose concepts of the present in trying to understand the past. One manifestation of this is the more modern idea of people having a national or pan-ethnic identity. “You don't know you're a citizen of a place unless there's some mechanism for you to learn about it,” she says. In other words, especially in long ago history, one would likely have no sense of belonging to anything beyond one’s family, community and religion, especially not the somewhat abstract notion of “nation” or “empire” without specific messaging about what that state comprises, how one is a member of it, and what one’s responsibilities as a member of the state are. This certainly describes the Shan and their lack of a sense of belonging to some sort of larger, historical, pan-Shan “nation.”
“Prior to ethnic categories [implemented by the British], and prior to the ways in which the ‘nation state’ categorized people, certainly people were aware of cultural difference, but it didn't mean the same thing that it does to people today. To be ‘Shan’ was a kind of cultural ecology in the sense that one belonged to a Theravada, a Buddhist statelet. This idea of ethnic category was more of a class issue than something that we might consider as kind of biological or racial. So in that sense to be Shan, meant to be Buddhist, engaged in paddy agriculture.” Moreover, she notes how the concept of “identity” was more malleable than it is usually understood today. “It wasn't something that was set in stone, as it were, there's a great deal more flexibility to ethnicity,” she says. “I describe it as a coral reef of cultural nuance and cultural difference.”
Interestingly, one aspect of identity that varies across Shan territory is how Buddhism is practiced. Ferguson describes how Buddhist practice in Shan state varies according to the region; for example, Shan groups east of the Salween River are more influenced by Cambodian and Thai Buddhism, while in the western region there is more similarity to the Bamar.
Ferguson describes how during the Colonial Era, the British held their own hopes of bringing the Shan together so as to more easily govern the region and access its abundant natural resources. But as Ferguson says, “[They soon] realized that lots of these so-called Shan princes hadn't even met each other! They didn't necessarily have a political incentive to get together.” Towards this end, colonial administrators established the Shan Chiefs School, which was “very much like a British style Eaton or Rugby, where you'd send the upper-class young boys to go to school together, not only to learn the ways of Empire and to play sports together, but also to form these ‘old boy networks.’” This also changed the political dynamics of the region. Previously, Shan princes continued their studies at the Bamar royal court, but now many did so at elite British institutions outside Burma. As a result, in the 20th century, some of these young Shan leaders began to envision a post-colonial world where Shan could unite and self-govern, using modern principles to better their fellow Shans’ future—yet tragically, the 1962 coup put an end to that aspiration.
Ferguson describes how the initial census in Burma was based on British forms used in India, in which caste was an important consideration. Once the British saw that caste wasn’t relevant in Burma like it was in Hindu culture, colonial administers added a box they called “race and tribe,” and then further attempted to categorize people in linguistic groups. But that only led to more problems. As Ferguson explains, “Each kind of question leads to further fractals of confusion and difference, but in the process of colonization and territorialization, they want to create a fixed impression of what's going on for the purposes of empire and ruling. They're not interested in these complex questions of identity at the individual level.” She adds that even today in Shan state, few people are monolingual, with many speaking as many as four languages, depending on context and task.
By the time World War II ended, the entire region was in flux, and Shan state was no exception. Questions abounded: Would they be part of Thailand, Burma, or possibly push for their own independent state? If they were part of another state, what autonomy would they have? Absent a unifying, pan-Shan identity, how would they share power among themselves? Ferguson is quick to point out that many non-Shan have lived in Shan territories as well— today only about 50% are ethnic Shan— and that the motivations of the elite and leaders have been different than that of the common people, so it would be mistaken to present the Shan view as monolithic. Ultimately, several key leaders agreed to sign onto the important Panglong Agreement. “One of the specific clauses [in that agreement] is that the former Frontier Areas, what later became the ethnic states, would be allowed to have independence following ten years initial membership in the Union of Burma provided it was the will of the majority of people, following a plebiscite in in that particular ethnic state,” she notes. Ferguson describes the agreement as having a lot of “political baggage” with “many different interpretations,” and the meaning of Panglong continues to be debated today. In any case, the political dynamics of the country changed dramatically when General Ne Win initiated a coup in 1962, with some speculating that a driving force in that decision was a fear that Shan leaders (among other ethnic forces) were seeking to break from the union.
Ferguson also fleshes out the complex context of that period of Burmese history. She suggests that the British may have chosen to work with Aung San as an alternative to the powerful Communist Party of Burma (CPB), all the while knowing that Aung San, himself, had a socialist bent as well. And while he seemed to have supported multiethnic pluralism, Ferguson notes how “there's always been an aspect of Bamar chauvinism that has been part of the political model for the Union of Burma; that is, ‘Okay, we are going to be the royal race, as it were.’ I mean, they actively borrowed from many fascist ideas during the 1930s. And another aspect of their anti-colonial nationalism, is that they weren't even thinking of the Frontier Areas as part of the map of Burma when they were anti-colonial nationalists, they still saw the Frontier Areas as an entirely different point. So, again, in this this aspect of ‘repossessing,’ that I like to emphasize in the book, is that each group had its kind of image or changing idea of what a nation state represents. And you have to look at what it meant for those people at the time, rather than taking a contemporary one and projecting it backwards.”
Bringing up the CPB opens the door to yet another of the region’s political complexities. As Ferguson points out, “The Cold War is really a misnomer when we're talking about mainland Southeast Asia. It's not a cold war, it's actually very hot, and it was killing lots of people! It was very much fought on the ground in in Southeast Asia, and particularly in Shan state.” She describes the presence of Kuomintang (Chinese Nationalists), Chinese Communists, and Tatmadaw troops (along with the Ka Kwe Ye, or mercenary groups in the latter’s employ), not to mention an active presence of the American DEA and CIA, while Taiwan and Thailand were also offering anti-Communist support.
The Kuomintang set up the first heroin refineries there as a way to finance their ongoing resistance to Maoist China. Over time, several Shan insurgent groups took their major source of funding from it as well (as Patrick Winn discussed in a recent episode focusing on the narcotics trade). Ferguson notes there were more than 40 armed groups in Shan state by the 1970s occupying territory and controlling trade routes. However, while several of these groups nominally identified as Communist, she explains that this has less to do with ideology than practicality. It was a matter of who was going to be offering them support, and how to best survive in that very fraught area.
Ferguson also explores Shan relations with Thailand, with whom they actually share more in common than the Bamar. As one of the few Southeast Asian countries that was never colonized, Thailand maintains their royal family intact, which has had a direct impact on Thai identity. “You had a Thai monarchy that was integrating and creating a nation state from above, but not against a European enemy. It wasn't a nationalist movement that rose up to oust a European power the same way that Burmese nationalism came about,” she says. “To be a Thai citizen means that you are ethnically Thai. And then if you're not ethnically Thai, you're not a full citizen. There are many Shan that became Thai because they happened to be on the Siamese side of the border when Thailand was state building, and they are now full Thai citizens.”
The vagaries of conflating ethnicity and citizenship in Thailand was clearly illustrated in the aftermath of the famous rescue of the 12 Thai boys trapped in a cave in 2018, along with their coach. However, it turns out that four of these boys were not, in fact, Thai, but rather ethnic (and stateless) Shan. This posed a problem when they were to be flown out to Los Angeles to meet the Manchester United soccer team and appear on the “Ellen” show, as they did not have passports! A solution was quickly (and quietly) devised for the Thai government to quickly bestow on them that elusive Thai citizenship that is out of the reach of so many Shan immigrants from Burma. “They make it extremely difficult for a stateless Shan to eke out an existence and in many ways, there is a whole lot of everyday bigotry on the part of Thais towards Shan people,” she says. “Frankly, the Thai economy has benefited for decades on the marginalized, migrant labor that comes across the border into Thailand, and giving them citizenship would give them access to more rights in the country.” Connected to this, Ferguson explains two of the main ways that the Shan insurgent groups are funded: from duties collected on goods moving across the Thai-Burma border in Shan territory, and from Shan migrant workers in Thailand who send back money.
Moving to the transition period, Ferguson describes Shan attitudes at this time as “skeptical.” While there was a Shan branch of the NLD, the Shan generally tended to view Aung San Suu Kyi as a leader for the Bamar people, and that real Shan autonomy wasn’t any closer with the NLD in power. Ferguson understands their skepticism, noting that even as the military continued its abysmal human rights record in ethnic regions, the NLD didn’t effectively work towards a establishing a stronger federal democracy that respected minority rights.
Especially after the coup, there is a tendency for people tend to romanticize the transition period. But it wasn’t all peaceful, and it wasn’t idyllic, and Myanmar’s ethnic minorities did not have an easy time. In terms of the Shan, they were particularly affected as Burmese capitalists started making deals with the Thai government, and the latter renewed a variety of diplomatic relations with the Burmese government to set up Special Economic Zones; these developments led to a concern that Shan migrants living in refugee camps without official Thai recognition were now more vulnerable. Ferguson asks rhetorically, “Are they going to eliminate those and force all of those people to move back to Shan State? And will they be safe?” Another issue during the transition period was the perception that refugees didn't need international support anymore, because the political situation was supposedly improving in the new, democratic Myanmar. “There was this perception that, ‘Oh, well, refugees don't need international support anymore, now that Myanmar is democratic.’ Well, they never really achieved full peace in this area!”
In examining how the Shan region was impacted by the 2021 military coup, Ferguson quotes a Shan contact who said, “There's a red stick and a green stick, and regardless of which stick it is, if it hits you, it will be painful.” In other words, it’s no different to the Shan whether it’s the NLD or military that is acting as their aggressor. Further complicating matters, some Shan groups have been fighting each other, rather than uniting to confront the regime, which has confused many observers. Yet Ferguson explains, “Ethnicity is not this political alliance, it's not this automatic, existential glue,” adding, “It’s naive to automatically expect them to be an alliance simply because they both have ‘Shan’ in their name!”
In closing, she acknowledges that there is this “idea that, okay, now that the military is back in the saddle, everybody has a common enemy again, so they're more likely to unite. There is an aspect of that, but then there also is this incredible cultural vibrancy amongst Generation Z, and a willingness to take on new ideas about ethnicity and new ideas about gender! So it very much is a very new generation, and the ways in which they're very cosmopolitan, and in touch with social movements elsewhere, namely the Milk Tea Alliance… or involved with some aspect of their education about Burma, Myanmar, social movements, anthropology, you name it, I've met some really creative people that have incredible ideas for building a better future. I can't begin to express the horrors and the biggest internal conflict that Myanmar is fighting since the time of World War Two, it's tremendous. But on the other hand, there are some pockets of real optimism.”