Today, from the crowded bazaars of Chiang Mai in the north, to the Khra Isthmus 1,300 kilometers to the south, ethnic Chinese form an integral part of the social fabric. But the beneficial absorption of the Chinese into Thai society took almost a millennium to unfold, and ethnic relations between Thais and Chinese have not always been ideal, especially in recent decades.
The following special article by John Kirby, who recently returned from an extended trip to Thailand, provides some important insights on what it takes to establish inter-racial harmony in a region that has long been torn apart by strife among competing ethnic and political groups.
Ethnic Chinese can be found in large numbers in virtually every sizable town or city in Southeast Asia, from Mandalay to Manila. But in no other country of the region have they blended in so naturally and harmoniously as in Thailand. Ethnic Chinese and people of mixed Thai-Chinese ancestry comprise a major part of the population in this newest of Asian "tigers," and as an ethnic group they have been thoroughly interwoven into the national fabric.
The vast majority of the ethnic Chinese are descendants of economic refugees who fled Imperial China near the end of the Ching Dynasty (1644-1911). In the wake of the civil wars and famines that claimed millions of lives during this period, thousands upon thousands of destitute peasants and merchants set sail for foreign lands to flee the harsh conditions in the coastal provinces of South China. The major group to arrive in Thailand were the Tio Chew (or Chao-chou) from Kwangtung Province. They found employment as cheap "coolie" labor in the docks, warehouses, and factories of Bangkok, usually working for other Chinese already established in the city.
The native Thais were an agricultural people unaccustomed to the pressures and frenzy of a wage-labor market. They soon discovered they were no match in economic competition with this flood of hungry and aggressive immigrants. In Bangkok and elsewhere the Chinese supplied the raw muscle power for Thailand's economic growth. Their labor laid the foundation upon which the rulers of old Siam built build their country into a modern nation.
Most of the Chinese immigrants did not come to Siam with the idea of permanent settlement. Their usual goal was to make a fortune overseas and then return with their wealth to China. But this dream rarely became reality. The Chinese in Thailand, as in other parts of the world, usually remained in their new country of residence to run their own businesses. Their efforts had created an up-to-date infrastructure for the nation, and from that base they expanded into virtually every sector of the economy. The immigrants prospered from their hard work and frugality, eventually rising to become a major segment of the urban middle class.
They were economically secure as a group, and with their common dialects and strong kinship ties they formed a vast interconnected coalition of small and large businesses in firm control of the Thai economy. At first, the government welcomed and encouraged these industrious newcomers. But after World War I a second major influx of Chinese migration into Thailand began. The authorities were not so pleased this time, and for good reason.
Earlier waves of Chinese workers had for the most part been single men, and they married local women. As a result, they were more readily absorbed into society. But as more immigrants arrived, it became considerably more difficult for the nation to absorb them. By the turn of the century, the Tio Chew merchant class had grown into a separate foreign community that dominated all business sectors. They did not even speak the Thai language, and local Thais were actually compelled to learn Chinese in order to do business. The Chinese had their own schools, newspapers, associations, and temples. They were not integrating any longer, and began to look more and more like a potentially destabilizing foreign force. Politicians started to speak of the "Chinese problem."
By the late 1930s, the Thai government was concerned enough to begin controlling immigration. The local Chinese were pressured to integrate into Thai society with a general clamp down that included closing independent Chinese newspapers and schools. Public resentment of the Chinese began building, and a succession of nationalistic military governments adopted policies of suppression. Migration from China virtually ceased, and the rise of communism in that country helped give the government justification for tougher measures as elements of Maoist ideology leaked into the local Chinese community.
As disagreeable as this scenario may appear at first glance, it must be remembered that the Thais remained fairly tolerant toward the Chinese, especially when compared with other countries in the region. Despite discriminatory policies, the Thai people took a pragmatic and humane approach in dealing with Thai-Chinese racial relations. In other Southeast Asian nations, anti-Chinese sentiment led to pogroms, massacres, and mass expulsions. Life may not have been easy for the Chinese in Thailand, but at least they could coexist and assimilate if they chose to do so, as well as preserve many aspects of their traditional culture.
Perhaps one of the best ways to acquire a sense of where the Chinese stand in Thailand today is to stroll through what remains of the old "Chinatown" of Bangkok, the area of Sampeng. This is in fact where the overseas Chinese were resettled by royal decree 100 years ago after being evicted from the section of town where the magnificent Grand Palace now stands. The order was issued to make way for construction of that huge monument.
From the banks of the Chao Phraya River to Charoen Krung Road, Sampeng comprises a vast maze of alleys. Many of them are nothing more than narrow, between-building slots that radiate out from the main thoroughfare of Yawaraj Road. The area is further divided into individual sections, each with a unique "personality" and type of commercial activity. The sections are linked by narrow interconnecting alleys that can prove thoroughly confusing to an uninitiated wanderer. Countless temples and residential enclaves are hidden in this labyrinth.
Like Chinatowns the world over, Sampeng district offers a barrage of sights, smells, and sounds. It is a human caldron of commercial activity. Children play in open doorways, women wash dishes in the street, and roadside stall patrons slurp noodles seemingly oblivious to the chaos around them. Even though Bangkok is already notorious for its noise and congestion, Chinatown can make other parts of the city look serene.
But in certain respects, Sampeng is like no other Chinatown in the world. It is difficult to buy a Chinese newspaper or even a genuine Chinese meal, and Thai language is heard as often as Tio Chew. Mandarin is even rarer. The traditional Chinatown is actually slowly passing from the scene. Sampeng is the skeleton of a city that once was, but is no longer.
Fifty years of forced integration have blurred the boundaries between Chinatown and the rest of the city. Today, it is hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. From their borough at Sampeng, the Chinese have spread out to be absorbed into larger Bangkok, blurring all ethnic boundaries. Some say it is a "half Chinatown" in a half-Chinese city. That is no exaggeration, as some estimates indicate that over 50 percent of the 7 million inhabitants of Bangkok are of partial Chinese descent.
The Chinese in Bangkok, and their scattered descendants, control much of the nation's wealth, and Sino-Thais are disproportionately represented at the best universities. While these facts would provoke resentment in most societies in Southeast Asia, the Thais take them in stride. The people of Thailand are a culturally self-confident race, and tend not to exhibit the same degree of xenophobia so deeply rooted in other Asian civilizations. Moreover, their policy of integration has worked remarkably well, and the contributions of the ethnic Chinese to the nation have been overwhelmingly positive.
Just how well integration has succeeded becomes abundantly clear when speaking to young Sino-Thais themselves. Few third or fourth generation Chinese speak or read Mandarin, and they rarely think of themselves as Chinese. When pressed on the matter, they state without hesitation that they are first and above all Thais, regardless of ethnic background. The ease with which this younger generation assimilates is a source of exasperation to some parents who wish their children could retain more of their "Chineseness."
The principal of Peking School, the oldest and largest of the remaining Chinese schools in Bangkok, complains about this situation: "The children used to be fluent in Mandarin and poor at Thai, but now the tables are turned and they break into Thai as soon as they are out of the classroom." One Mandarin-speaking father says with resignation, "It's no use trying to push them to study Chinese; they learn a bit in elementary school and then forget it the moment they're not required to study it any longer."
The speed and degree of Chinese absorption into Thai society and culture stand in marked contrast to neighboring Asian countries where decades of draconian measures and often outright persecution have failed to force Chinese minorities to assimilate. Not even in the American "melting pot," where a powerful mass-media culture can assist in the process, has a sizable Chinese community assimilated so quickly and completely.
Much of the cultural compatibility between Thais and Chinese undoubtedly derives from shared anthropological roots that stretch back into antiquity. Although scholars argue over the exact origins of the "Thai race," it is a fact that they are the only Southeast Asian people besides the Burmese who belong to the Sino-Tibetan (Chinese) linguistic family. The Burmese appear to have migrated into the Irrawaddy valley from somewhere on the Tibetan Plateau, but the Thais almost certainly originated in southern China. Some scholars say their homeland may have been as far north as the Yangtze River. This common racial and linguistic heritage facilitates mutual acceptance and intermarriage. It has also been the basis of the cooperation that has characterized Sino-Thai relations for hundreds of years.
No one knows whether the Thai nation as a sociopolitical unit originated in China's Yunnan province or right in Thailand. The debate over this matter among anthropologists is known as the "Nanchao question." But trade relations between China and Thailand are at least as old as the first true Thai kingdom of Sukhothai (1220-1438). Chinese maritime traders are believed to have been active in the Gulf of Siam well before the 13th Century A.D.
Historical relations between China and Sukhothai are recorded to have begun in 1292, when a Sukhothai emissary visited Kwangtung Province. Three years later a second emissary visited the Mongol court at Peking, and Sukhothai became a tributary state of China. Such Chinese suzerainty over Southeast Asian kingdoms carried some benefits for the "vassal" state. It meant that in exchange for annual tributary missions, the country received valuable diplomatic recognition and trading privileges.
Trade grew rapidly, consisting mainly of woods and spices exported to China, and Chinese silks and porcelains shipped overland or by sea to Siam. The bulk of this extensive trade was controlled by private Chinese shipping merchants. As trade increased, many Chinese settled in the Menam Basin as resident traders.
But historians suspect that not all the early Chinese settlers were merchants. There is some indication that the Chinese were also welcomed as a source of skilled manpower by local rulers. The Sukhothai king Ramkhamhaeng is said to have invited Chinese artisans to establish a royal pottery works as early as the 14th Century, and by the 15th Century most of the naval sailing vessels of Siam were manned by Chinese crews. This gradual absorption of Chinese talent over the centuries, and its influence on the development of Thai civilization, has been popularly called the "Chinese connection. "
Almost all of the Chinese immigrants during this period were male, and they married into the local society. The wealthiest found their brides among the Thai elite and aristocracy. By the rise of the great Thai kingdom of Ayudhya in 1350, a large, affluent, and politically influential Chinese community had already established itself in the area that was to later become the capital.
During the great Ming voyages of the 15th Century, naval vessels from the Chinese fleet often landed at Ayudhya. Cheng Ho, the commander of the fleet, visited Ayudhya himself in 1408, and some of his officers and soldiers left travelogues which provide some fascinating impressions of 15th Century Ayudhya. One soldier named Fei Hsin suggested in his records one rather earthly reason for the "cultural" affinity Chinese men felt for Siam. In his memoir entitled "Captivating Views from a Star-Guided Vessel," written in 1436, he provided the following explanation: "When a Thai woman meets a Chinese man, she will inevitably be attracted to him, preparing wine, singing happily, and keeping him overnight."
Whatever the reasons for emigration from China, the large Sino-Thai community nevertheless helped shape and guide the development of Siam. When the capital of Ayudhya was destroyed in 1767 and the country occupied by Burmese invaders, it was a Sino-Thai general who eventually expelled them. (The general was later killed by his son-in-law, who then founded a new dynasty and ruled the nation from the present-day capital of Bangkok.)
Today, seven centuries after Ramkhamhaeng and 50 years since the "Chinese connection" became the "Chinese problem," the benign and mutually beneficial relations that have marked Sino-Thai relations since ancient times continue. Chinese and their descendants can be found throughout Thailand at every level of government and industry, where they are playing an important role in the country's development. Although some restrictions on Chinese remain, relations between the Sino-Thai minority and the Thai majority are the best in Southeast Asia. Many experts claim this lack of racial tension will help Thailand to join the ranks of the industrialized nations before its neighbors.
The majority of Sino-Thais today are descendants of immigrants who arrived at the turn of the century. Thai authorities terminated Chinese immigration altogether in the 1940s, but an unofficial flow of refugees from Communist regimes continued to pour into the country after World War II. The largest group of these late-arrivals was the" Jiin Haw," or "galloping Chinese." Named for the mule caravans they led out of Yunnan, and perhaps for their itinerant lifestyle, the galloping Chinese were the last remnants of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist troops to withdraw from the Chinese mainland. The bulk of them eventually found their way to the Republic of China on Taiwan. But about 20,000 men, women, and children, mostly of Yunnanese descent, chose to remain in the Thai north. They settled in remote mountain villages near the three-way border of Thailand, Burma, and Laos called the "Golden Triangle."
The Jiin Haw now number approximately 50,000. Their ranks have been swelled over the years by about 16,000 additional ethnic Chinese refugees who have poured across the borders with Burma and Laos. These arrivals are known as the "independent Haws," and their presence in Thailand is technically illegal. In recent years, economic conditions in the Golden Triangle have improved due to technical and financial aid from the ROC [see FCR, February 1989]. Immigration authorities tend to see the influx of new migrants attracted by the comparative prosperity as an unavoidable phenomenon, and do little to stem it.
Tens of thousands of Sino-Vietnamese have also entered Thailand since South Vietnam fell to the North in 1975. Four years since the capture of Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City), the Vietnamese authorities launched a policy of official persecution aimed at expelling the Chinese from their soil. Hundreds of thousands of these refugees set sail in frail fishing boats to face starvation, pirates, and rejection by foreign countries. Many finally settled in Thailand, as well as in the United States, France, and Canada.
Another considerably more desperate group entered Thailand in the wake of the infamous Khmer Rouge seizure of Kampuchea. The Khmer Rouge, armed and supported by the regime of Teng Hsiao-ping in mainland China, set about exterminating around 70 percent of the Chinese middle class in the country. Currently, about 5,000 of these refugees remain trapped in camps along the Thai-Kampuchean border. They are classified as "displaced persons" (DPPs). Terrified at the prospect of being returned to Kampuchea, and unwilling to be relocated in mainland China, they have appealed directly to the King of Thailand for permission to remain or be resettled in a third country.
Like their Thai counterparts, the ethnic Chinese of French Indochina and Burma were the descendants of waves of economic refugees who escaped southern China and provided the manpower to build the infrastructure necessary for modern economies. And like the Sino-Thais, these ethnic Chinese minorities eventually became pervasive merchant classes in control of most economic sectors. But their respective fates have differed markedly from the fortunes of their compatriots in Thailand.
Many Southeast Asian countries have attempted to intimidate or expel their Chinese minorities, but the Thais chose to recognize, accept and use their talents. It is ironic that the four Southeast Asian countries that have expelled their ethnic Chinese rank among the most impoverished nations in the world. And other neighboring countries that have not expelled their Chinese minorities, but place apartheid-like restrictions on their ability to engage in commerce, are experiencing difficulty in keeping up with the economic performance of Thailand.
Not only has Thailand benefited from including the ethnic Chinese in the political and economic life of the country, it has also attracted large amounts of Chinese investment and technology from abroad. As the era of labor-intensive industries passes away in Taiwan, for example, hundreds of ROC companies and manufacturers have begun investing in Thailand. Although ROC and overseas Chinese investors cite lower real estate and labor costs for their interest in Thailand, most admit off-record that it is the lack of an official anti-Chinese bias that makes the country so attractive. A lack of racial tensions and political stability are prime factors in attracting Western and Japanese investment as well.
The contributions of a large and well-integrated Chinese ethnic population to Thailand can be seen in retrospect as the outcome of nearly 1,000 years of tolerance and integration. Clearly, the traditional and modern Thai ability to accept and assimilate Chinese talent has enriched the nation economically and culturally. In a region torn by war, rebellion, and racial tensions, the Thais and Chinese are showing that mutual acceptance and inter-racial harmony are keys to a brighter future.