A History of Thailand

Due to its unique history in Southeast Asia as the only state not formally colonized by Western powers, Thailand has long fascinated us. In order to learn more, we finally read A History of Thailand by Pasuk Phongpaichit and Chris Baker. Although early history receives a few short chapters in their study, focusing on the 19th and 20th centuries, it is a rather comprehensive overview of Thailand's origins. Understanding the earlier eras in terms of mueangs, Tai-speakers, the Dvaravati culture, and the role of geography in shaping human societies of the region is incredibly important. The Ayutthaya era likewise merited attention, although far less than that accorded to the subject in Baker and Phongpaichit's monograph on Ayutthaya. The real meat and potatoes of this history is on the Bangkok era, when Bangkok developed into the royal and political capital of Siam. The 19th century changes which led to Siamese territorial expansion and the eventual adoption of colonial-style rule for administrative purposes, are the major developments of this important era. Siam's kings, such as Chulalongkorn, championed themselves as the necessary rulers for Siam to develop and be modern while retaining Thai values and traditions. 

Gradually, by the 1930s, the military emerged into greater significance, culminating in what may be fairly considered a fascist or pro-fascist regime led by Phibun. Democratization and liberalism were never really the goal and the state eventually fell to military generals who exploited their positions to siphon US funding during the Cold War or entered into alliances with the oligarchy and business elites. The business elite, often of Chinese origins, soon became a major factor in politics through their unholy alliance with the military or the royalists. Throughout the 20th and early 21st century, Thailand's often tumultuous politics revealed cleavages in the nation based on region, class, Cold War regional politics, attitudes toward liberalism, the interests of the peasantry, and globalization or development. Numerous coups, outbreaks of violence, and corruption or abuse of political power to accrue wealth have continued to plague the nation. Despite its middle-income status and the transformation of Bangkok into a global city, Thailand remains in political uncertainty. The monarchy has been of great importance yet Baker and Phongpaichit's book ends with a short overview of the Shinawatra years and the youthful protest movement opposed to the military junta and the monarchy. Despite its past ties to military generals or big-money interests, the monarchy managed to regain its status as the moral arbiter of the nation for the urban middle-class. 

In some respects, Thailand's modern history reminds us of Ethiopia. Like Ethiopia, Siam avoided formal European colonialism. Both pursued modernization through monarchical government systems and unfair European semi-colonial relations. Thailand, however, has been more successful with long-term economic development, although some of this may reflect the importance of Thailand as a bulwark against communism during the Cold War and the strategic and economic importance of Southeast Asia. Both countries also experienced moments of authoritarian governments when the monarchy was sidelined or, in the case of Ethiopia, totally overthrown. Through their unequal status with the Western powers during the age of imperialism and the adoption of colonial-style administrative practices, both nations were not able to develop their resources in a manner favorable to industrialization and the well-being of the peasantry. That said, Thailand's location in Southeast Asia and the influence of Japanese, Chinese, and Western states in its economy, labor, and export potential did eventually lead to some economic development. Ethiopia, like Thailand, also has the experience of regional (and ethnic) conflicts but without the same degree of ethnic conflict.

Drum and Bass Body and Soul

Interesting to hear Esperanza Spalding sing "Body and Soul" in the original English with just bass and drums. Such a bare arrangement and instrumentation accentuates her singing and the haunting melancholy of this song. 

Art, Mythology, the Taino and Central America

Eugenio Fernandez Mendez's Art and Mythology of the Taino Indians of the Greater West Indies is a frustrating read. A short work based on Taino art, mythology and archaeology seen in several examples of Taino art and glimpses from the Spanish chronicles, the author posits a significant Mesoamerican and/or Central American influence on the Taino. The actual chronology of this influence is uncertain, but the author is convinced of various mythological, theogonic and aesthetic similarities between the Taino and Mesoamerica, which presumably can be traced all the way back to the Olmec or proto-Olmec culture. How exactly this influence reached the Greater Antilles, and mainly Puerto Rico and Hispaniola, is unclear. If the general chronology of the rise of chiefdoms with greater political centralization and social differentiation began around 1000-1200 CE for Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, this is long after the Olmec and Classic Maya. However, if Mesoamerican influences may have sprung from an earlier period in the history of the circum-Caribbean, perhaps one in which peoples from the Yucatan, southern Mexico and other areas migrated to or traded with peoples living in the Greater Antilles, perhaps some stylistic and religious practices were transferred to the Taino. And who knows, perhaps the Totonac stone yokes are related to the famous stone collars of pre-Hispanic Puerto Rico. 

There likely were contacts of some sort between the Antilles and Central America and Mesoamerica. Fernandez Mendez cites a number of sources indicating Taino contacts with Florida, northern South America, and Central America in the late 15th and early 16th centuries. These contacts likely existed long before Europeans arrived in the region. That said, there is a huge hole in Fernandez Mendez's theory. If Mesoamerican influences were so important on Taino mythology and art, why is so little evidence of this found in Jamaica and Cuba? We know indigenous people of Jamaica and Cuba likely had some degree of contact with the Yucatan, for example, but why is so little evidence of the influence of Mesoamerican "high" cultures evident on those islands? Why is it that more distant Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, where the most elaborate ballcourts, plazas, stone sculpture, duhos, and cacicazgos were developed, lack any incontrovertible evidence of trade or exchange with Mesoamerica? Did seafarers, traders, priests, and skilled laborers from Mesoamerica or Central America decide to skip most of Cuba and Jamaica because they were backwaters, demographically or culturally? It seems rather more likely that ideas or ritual practices may have reached Puerto Rico and Hispaniola via South America rather than a direct link to Mesoamerica. Fernandez Mendez seems to think otherwise, especially given the lack of elaborate ballcourts in northern South America. 

However, the rest of his argument relies on speculative interpretations of Las Casas, Pane, Oviedo, and other chroniclers and the Spanish sources on Mesoamerican religion and ritual to claim a strong influence of the Maya, Huastecs and others on the Taino. While there definitely are parallels between the religious and mythological world of the Taino and, perhaps, the Aztecs and Maya, one can also find even more numerous direct parallels and ethnolinguistic evidence linking the Taino to the cultures of northern South America. Interpretations of Pane such as those of Arrom and Stevens-Arroyo are more convincing, particularly in that they are better supplied by ethnographic evidence on the indigenous peoples of the Orinoco Basin as well as linguistic, archaeological, and genetic evidence pointing to South America as a primary source of Taino civilization. Of course, this does not mean that there was no influence from Central America and Mexico. Human sacrifice and the religious symbolism of the Taino batey very well could have some degree of Mesoamerican influence which is not evident in the cultures of South America where similar ballgames were played. Unfortunately, Fernandez Mendez's speculative reading of Yocahu and Guabancex in relation to the pantheon of Mesoamerican belief relies too heavily on assumptions on identifying Taino cemis and artifacts with particular gods and attributes which are not verifiable. He proposes a number of interesting hypotheses and notes certain recurring motifs among indigenous peoples in the circum-Caribbean region. Yet some of these similarities are likely archetypes common across many cultures, especially the role of fertility, sun cults, the importance of wind and rain, and divine twins or gods with multiple attributes. He also relies on possibly outdated theories of the hurricane as a deity or deified force.

Whether or not a cultural stream from Mexico reached the Greater Antilles in the 14th century, also spreading to the southeastern US and other areas, actually transpired remains to be proven. Based on Fernandez Mendez's analysis, more work must be done to ascertain the nature of contacts between the Taino and their mainland neighbors to the west. Whether or not the common "fire god" of the Taino and various cultures in Central America can be proven by alleged stylistic conventions shared across time and space raises even more questions that we do not possess sufficient evidence to support. Similarly, do we truly possess enough evidence to claim the behiques of the Taino were ritualists associated with the Moon, the mother goddess and the serpent? Intriguingly, Fernandez Mendez does claim that the jibaros of Puerto Rico retained some interesting traces of their Taino ancestors and predecessors. For instance, the word soco, allegedly the central post in a caney of the Tainos, survived in Puerto Rican Spanish with the same meaning (and sexual connotations). 

El camionero

Classics.

Los indocubanos

Los indocubanos by Onelio Jorge Cardoso and illustrated by Modesto Garcia is too brief to offer more than an overview of the indigenous past of the island. Modesto Garcia's illustrations, however, are quite impressive and detailed, even if some may be somewhat inaccurate. Modesto Garcia had apparently directed a film on this topic in 1962, which is unfortunately difficult to find. Nonetheless, despite it's introductory nature, there is a revolutionary hint at the union of the Indian and African maroon that must have been part of the 1962 documentary, too. This Afro-indigenous unity through marronage must have appealed to post-revolutionary Cuba in the 1960s. Unfortunately, this short book's emphasis on the allegedly "primitive" features of indigenous Cuban life and the absence of references to the social and political complexity of pre-colonial cacicazgos promotes stereotypes of indigenous primitivism or backwardness. Through resistance, marronage and union with runaway Africans, the indigenous past finds its most potent and meaningful legacy. 

In Darfur

Muhammad al-Tunisi's account of his voyage to Darfur, translated from the Arabic into English as In Darfur, is one of the major sources for reconstructing the history of the Darfur Sultanate. Based on his experiences there and covering the late 18th century and early 19th century period of the Keira rulers, al-Tunisi describes his travels there, gender relations, the political offices, diet, domestic architecture, magic and local superstitions, local politics, and social and ethnic divisions. The multiethnic Darfur sultanate included a mix of various ethnic groups, including Zaghawa, Fur, Arab, Fulani, and others. 

Due to al-Tunisi's own background as someone coming from an educated family and claiming descent from the Prophet, he and his father found favor and support in Darfur, even receiving a fief with rights to the taxation of villages. Because of his privileged position in Darfur and shared religion with the elites of Darfur, al-Tunisi's description of Darfur (and Wadai) occasionally provides more insights into the nature of the kingdom than that of later European travelers who were outsiders. Of course, al-Tunisi was still a biased outsider in another sense, bringing an Arab, North African perspective on Fur sexual mores, gender relations, and improper practices such as the possible human sacrifice.

Despite his own biases and sexism, al-Tunisi is an important source for documenting how extensive Darfur's links to the outside world were. The Sudanic belt, from Timbuktu and Mali in the west to Sinnar and Abyssinia in the East, and from the Maghreb and Egypt to Dar Runga and Dar Fartit in the south, the world of Darfur in this era was closely tied to regional, African, and global networks. The rulers of Darfur, for instance, used a royal seal made in Egypt. The sultan used the title of khaqan like the Ottoman sultan, too. An Egyptian fellah and musketeer named Zabadi served in the Darfur army. Darfur's ruler Tayrab invaded Kordofan. 

In addition, after the French invasion of Egypt, Zawanah Kashif fled to Darfur, was well-received and then plotted to murder the sultan. Darfur was, through its trade links to Sinnar, Egypt, North Africa and the rest of Sudanic Africa, was clearly a participant in global trade. Political ramifications of the French invasion of Egypt also reached Darfur, just as epidemic diseases from the Islamic Holyland struck Wadai. While some may think of the Darfur sultanate as an insignificant, minor African kingdom, al-Tunisi's account indicates the opposite. Indeed, during this era, Darfur was particularly important on a regional level, even as succession crises fueled civil wars. 

Chico Novarro's Algo Contigo

Ya no puedo continuar espiando

Día y noche, tu llegar adivinando

Ya no sé con qué inocente excusa pasar por tu casa

Indian History in Venezuela

Although Nikolaus Federmann's Indian History is most useful for its recounting of Federmann's entrada into the Venezuelan interior in the 1530s, there are some occasionally interesting references to the Taino of Hispaniola and the customs and cultures of indigenous Venezuela. Ostensibly sent to Venezuela on behalf of the Welsers, who received the administrative responsibilities of the colony, Federmann traveled from Coro to the interior. His superiors hoped to develop mines in Venezuela and Federmann himself was interested in finding access to the sea. His journey led him through the lands of various Indian nations (most of whom were politically decentralized), such as the Caquetio. After a series of raids, perilous travel through mountains, swamps, and plains and what was likely a bout of malaria, Federmann's expedition returned to Coro. 

Despite promising to later tell the reader more about the customs and cultures of the various indigenous peoples, the reader is left in the dark about much of this. We learn that some, for instance, wore or used golden pectorals with "demonic shapes" and the Caquetio possessed gold. The indigenous peoples of Venezuela were possibly a source of the guanin used by the Taino in the Antilles. Furthermore, there was a coastal village or pueblo called Martinico east of Coro, which may, perhaps, have had some correspondence with the Matinino mentioned by the Taino of Hispaniola to Colombus? The Matinino mentioned to Columbus was possibly a reflection of mythologically-informed geography, but the guanin connection may mean something significant. After all, it is possible that the Taino of Hispaniola knew of Matinino as east of the "Carib" if travel to the Venezuelan coast was through the east to the Lesser Antilles, then south. Furthermore, some of the indigenous peoples of the Venezuelan interior spoke Arawakan languages and used terms like baracoa, macana and bohio. Certainly, Federmann used these Taino terms but they appear to have also been used locally. Federmann's description of the bohios he encountered, though often incomplete, suggest they were large structures and contained storage rafters. Some of their settlements in the Venezuelan interior, especially among the Caquetio of the Orinoco plain, could be rather large and contain well-defended villages. 

Unfortunately, the extent to which Federmann's population estimates can be relied upon is unknown. According to him, Hispaniola still had 20,000 Indians (Tainos) in c.1530, but all lived in the Spanish towns. It is unclear what that number is based upon, but it does seem likely that the Taino of Hispaniola (plus enslaved indigenous peoples from Venezuela and other regions) were still a sizable part of the population. Indeed, Federmann even hints at the lack of Spanish or European influences upon the Taino by referring to them as naked and "screaming" people. The description of bohios, body paint, indigenous military practices, and the amazing efficacy of the horse in plains against Indian foes possibly help elucidate the "ease" of the Spanish conquest of the Taino, too. Federmann, of course, had to deal with numerous Indian groups who seem to have lacked the type of powerful chiefdoms described by the Spanish for Hispaniola. However, an allusion to a "chair" left in a bohio, or large house, in a village of the Cuibas, was likely a duho upon which gold was left for Federmann. Maybe this was a signal of chiefly status in recognition of Federmann's position as leader of the expedition?

In summation, Federmann's account fails to deliver the necessary ethnographic details but provides hints at Hispaniola and the Taino. In addition to being a major source of captive Indian labor in 16th century Hispaniola's mines, certain practices and customs that received mention in Federmann's Indian History possibly suggest the importance of the Venezuelan area as a source of guanin to the Antilles. Long distance precolonial trade between, say, Venezuela and Hispaniola, may have been indirect. But contact was clearly ongoing and the cultural practices of Venezuela's indigenes may shed light on the Taino.