In Buddha’s company

William Noseworthy

The ‘Queen’s Cobra Regiment’ Thai soldiers were caught between two contesting images during their service in the Vietnam War. On the one hand they were faced with the expectation that they become ‘merciful heroes’ and on the other, the stereotype that they were simply ‘greedy mercenaries’ (p. 4). Building off of the contestation between these two generalizations, In the Buddha’s Company successfully demonstrates the wealth of generalizations that were made about the experience of the Thai soldiers involved in the Vietnam conflict, the diversity of their actual experiences and how the involvement of Thai soldiers has been somewhat intentionally forgotten, with the end result that Ruth’s work fills one of the greatest gaps in the thousands of published works on the Vietnam War to date.

On the Thai-American-Vietnamese relationship

Of the most colorful aspects to Ruth’s study, conducted primarily through interviews with Thai soldiers, it appears that the interaction of cultures did not result in the adaptation of any major tri-lingual projects. An initial Thai-Vietnamese-English language manual was gradually discarded during the conflict. Thai’s quickly learned English and local Vietnamese quickly learned enough Thai to earn the compliment of ‘speaking Thai better than rural Thais’ (pp. 165-167) (rural Thais – incidentally – made up the majority of the forces in southern Vietnam). Meanwhile, as the Thai’s moved quickly into, what Ruth innovatively refers to as ‘their American muong’ – referencing the traditional Thai socio-political structure  (p. 98) – their rapid acceptance of American pop-culture was coupled with a rejection of ‘American spiritualism’ and the ‘absence of religious value’ in American culture (p. 8). While this is an important factor to consider in the subjects that follow, it distracts from one of the most interesting forces of cultural collision: the subject of food.

While most of the Thai soldiers in Vietnam were under the impression that they were ‘culturally affiliated’ with the Vietnamese, expressing a sense of ‘Pan-Asian’ identity, certain matters of ‘Thai specialties’ were not easily left behind. Som Tam (green papaya salad), for example, was viewed as integral to Thai (Lao and Isan) soldiers in Vietnam (p. 167). Meanwhile, Som Tam combined with Lap and Khao Nieu (sticky rice) were critical foods that made certain local Vietnamese eateries ever more popular in ‘Thai eyes’ (p. 168). Meanwhile, an ‘almost instant’ controversy erupted over the integral ingredient to ‘Thai cuisine’ pla muk fish sauce. Supposedly widely despised by American troops for its horrid smell, the Thai’s eventually arranged to commission their own LST (Landing Ship/Tank) the HMS Pha Ngan specifically to import the sauce into the south of Vietnam (p. 109).

Another controversy in the ‘Thai-American relationship’ was in response specifically to the ‘guns for drugs’ trade relationship that existed between Americans and the Thai in the ‘Bearcat Camp’ – the American muong in Bien Hoa. This relationship was predominantly criticized by Australian troops in the area and resulted in the withdrawal of at least one Australian helicopter unit (pp. 121-122). It should be noted that this trade was largely based on a stereotype of high demand for drugs amongst young Americans and the ability for the Thais who worked with the ‘Victory Wing’s’ aircraft of northern Thailand to supply them. In exchange, the Americans who occasionally offer weapons that could not be accessed by the Thai troops. The perceptions and reality seem to match in that there was a confirmed movement of raw opium and refined opiates (heroine and morphine) into south Vietnam. Nevertheless, Ruth’s interviews seem to have turned up few hard numbers on the arms for drugs trade that actually existed, besides that the price for a prized American Colt .45 automatic pistol was 3 kilos of marijuana (p. 125). Without many hard numbers produced in Ruth’s study regarding this topic it is difficult to draw further conclusions. Nevertheless, Ruth’s interviews turned a substantial amount of evidence that becomes more of the focus of his study revolving around the interactions between the Thai troops, the Americans and the Vietnamese: a sense of blending notions of spiritualism.

 

Blending Spiritualism in the south of Vietnam

In addition to the effect of Thai spiritualism on the Americans in south Vietnam and the effect of the local environment on the spiritualism of the Thais, Ruth also makes careful note of the general trend of American troops seeking to blend into the spiritual landscape, drawing even upon the example of Green Berets becoming symbolic members of Jarai highland families (p. 130). Incidentally, Ruth also plays upon the infamous ‘hearts and minds’ phrase of the Vietnam War era in order to explain that in the case of the Thai soldiers in south Vietnam, many believed they would have to develop an approach to the Vietnamese landscape through an understanding of Pan-Asian identity (p. 141). This motivated Thai soldiers to take particular actions: the donation of food, caring for orphans, Thai donations to Vietnamese temples during Thot Kathin (p. 210) – and more generally, the support of temples in Saigon and Bien Hoa were all generally seen as symbolic actions. At the smallest level they were an attempt to establish good relations to make everyday life slightly less difficult for Thai soldiers in Vietnam. However, at the cosmic level they were also seen as a means of literally protecting the soldiers from death.

Beyond the establishment of good actions, certain Thai notions of the spiritual realm were supplanted on Vietnamese terrain. Thai soldiers prayed to Mae Thorani and Theparak tree spirits. Meanwhile they also made specific request for local spirits to protect them. Interestingly, in Ruth’s study, it appears that there was little recognition of the ‘names’ of these local spirits themselves – but rather a more general appeal to whatever ‘the protectors of the place’ may be (p. 192). In this way, there was an almost natural imagining of the ‘Viet Cong’ as connected to the supernatural presence of ‘wilderness’ including the spirit animals of wild boars, snakes, monkeys, birds, deer and all forms of animals present in the ‘forests’ of southern Vietnam (p. 199). All said, the supernatural presence of the forest was then re-imagined through the lens of popular Thai Buddhist beliefs. Given that the majority of the soldiers in the corps interviewed are noted to have been relatively older (by comparison to south Vietnamese) members of the rural Thai farming class it is no surprise that the majority of the narrative focuses upon this subject material. What is surprising, however, is that the author mentions at the beginning of the narrative, when the soldiers were gathered at Wat Prah Keo for a blessing before they left for Vietnam, that there was a small contingent of Muslim soldiers who waited outside the Wat (p. 48). One wonders why this small detail of information was not draw out more in the authors conclusions about the memory of the war in Thailand, given the tension that would may have existed between this small group of individuals and the way that the war was ultimately remembered, or, to borrow terms from Zucker (2013) ‘intentionally forgotten’ in the context of Thailand’s history.

           

Memory and Thai presence in Vietnam

In the opening to In Buddha’s Company, Ruth argues that the motivations of the individuals interviewed for this study can be traced to notions of ‘masculinity, Buddhist piety, cultural chauvinism, economic development, mass communications, advertising, the Cold War, and other elements of the zeitgeist in Thailand during this dynamic era’ (p. 16). Additionally, the predominant rhetoric used was that of ‘protecting the homeland and the crops’ against Thai communists – who were seen as an extension of the movement in Vietnam (p. 32-33). Given this context it is no surprise that the soldiers of the Queen’s Cobra Regiment placed their preparations to enter Vietnam in the context of the Thai king Naresaun’s victory over the Burmese in January 1593 (p. 43). Meanwhile, even though there were Muslims who were present in the Thai forces that entered Vietnam, the initial marginal victories of Thai troops against the so-called ‘Viet-Cong’ were trumpeted as phenomenal successes by the Bangkok press set against the fears of ‘Islamic separatists in the south’ of Thailand (p. 59). It is also no great surprise that, even though there were Muslims who fought as Thais in Vietnam, that the backdrop of the Vietnam War was used as a justification by Thai military leaders for the later brutal intervention in the south of Thailand (p. 13). Therefore there seems to be a major contestation between the way that the memory of the Thai troops was used in the south of Thailand and their own experience as being ‘happily forgotten’ (to dramatize Ruth’s assertions). Meanwhile, PM Chaitchay Chunawan stated (with overt pride) that Thailand would lead Vietnam into the future of ASEAN in the late 1990s (p. 214) – although this has yet to be proven to be the case. Furthermore, it seems odd that the deeper history between Vietnam and Thailand throughout nineteenth century contestations seems to have been overtly ignored in this study. This is likely because of the focus upon the interview subjects – nevertheless, Ruth could have equally pointed out Zucker’s (2013) trend of ‘intentional forgetting’ of Thai-Vietnamese tensions in the past.

The notion of ‘intentional forgetting’ seems to ring throughout studies of ‘historical memory’ in contemporary scholarship, and in particular can be combined with the scholarly trend of studying ‘memorial landscapes.’ Here, Ruth is right upon the crest of the wave as he aptly points out the major presence of the Victory Monument – a memorial to a frankly relatively minor victory over Vichy France in 1940-1941 which granted Thailand parts of Laos and Cambodia (again) through a Japanese mediated settlement – in contrast with the ‘Vietnam War Memorial’ for Thai soldiers, which is hidden away from international eyes at Lat Ya in Katchanaburi (pp. 215-219). Finally, in closing, it seems the author has chosen one of the most appropriate images to close with given this ‘intentional forgetting’ that has taken place given the narrative of the Thai troops in the Vietnam War. There is only one museum devoted to the veterans of this war. It has no normal opening hours. Appointments must be made for a visit. The only exception is during Armed Forces Day (in Thailand) and ‘for the most part they [the veterans] are content to leave it that way’ (p. 226). And so, while it may seem that the context of the Thai participation in Vietnam and the ultimate end of using the memory of this particular conflict as a justification for the suppression of Muslims in southern Thailand could have been drawn out more in this book, in the end, the contributions of Ruth’s study are invaluable to the fields of Thai studies, studies on the Vietnam War, studies on Vietnam, studies on Southeast Asian history and historical memory. Finally, the narrative of this volume will be an enjoyable read to anyone who desires to seek a more complex vision of any of the above subjects and in this sense Ruth, through forgetting to forget has created a great contribution to researchers, teachers, students and travelers who will seek to expand their understanding of historical memory.

 

William B. Noseworthy, University of Wisconsin-Madison, Center for Khmer Studies (noseworthy@wisc.edu)