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The Historical
Constitution
of the Uplands
1
A View from the Mountains:
A Critical History of Lowlander-
Highlander Relations in Vietnam 1
Oscar Salemink
Introduction
In the summer of 1996, when I worked as programme officer for the Ford
Foundation in Vietnam, I met with Dr Hoàng Xuân Tý, who wanted to
discuss a project proposal about “indigenous technical knowledge” among
upland minorities in Vietnam. A soil scientist working for the Forest
Science Institute of Vietnam in Từ Liêm, Hanoi, Dr Tý explained why he
had become interested in the concept of “indigenous knowledge”. Up until
that point, (highland) ethnic minorities were generally seen as backward
(lạc hậu), primitive (nguyên thủy) and steeped in superstitious beliefs (mê
tín dị đoan), and their “slash-and-burn” agricultural practices (phá rừng
làm rẫy) were regarded as the main cause of deforestation (Jamieson et
al. 1998). From that perspective—widely shared by Vietnamese scientists,
government officials and media—development consisted of bringing
science, technology and the superior civilization of the lowlander Việt
to the highlands. Dr Tý recalled his years fighting for his country, when
he and his fellow soldiers could survive in the mountainous jungles only
because local people taught them how to. After his studies in Hanoi he
went back to the mountain areas and was involved in dozens of projects
with the aim of lifting local ethnic groups out of their backwardness and
poverty. But, Dr Tý insisted: “All of our beautiful science and technology
projects failed, while local people were successful in what they did. The
trees that we brought died within one year, but the trees that local people
planted still stand. Their local knowledge is much better than our so-called
27
century under the Nguyễn Dynasty. In this section I argue that political
and ritual leadership in the Highlands of what is now Vietnam was very
much connected with the position of such leaders in long-distance trade
networks. The fourth section zooms in on the Northern Highlands and the
role of the Đèo lineage during the early and latter days of French rule and
their interest in the opium trade. In the fifth section I offer some more
general reflections on the nature of Highlander leadership in precolonial
times, arguing for a realization that Highlander leadership was largely
based on connections with the Lowlands; and that Lowland polities were
also dependent on trade and alliances with highland leaders. Finally, I
shall conclude that—akin to the “view from the sea” proposed by Li Tana,
John Whitmore and Charles Wheeler—the historiography and ethnography
of Vietnam require a “view from the mountains” in order to redress the
nationalist and developmental notions about backwardness, remoteness
and isolation produced by the modern state and eagerly supported by
NGOs and other development donors.
geographic and culture area has the unintended side effect of emphasizing
difference and distance from lowland states and civilizations, thereby
exoticizing Uplanders as ethnic “others” vis-à-vis Lowlanders.
In earlier work I showed that historical cultural differences between
and among Lowlanders and Highlanders and misperceptions of Highlander
culture do not mean that this difference is absolute, nor that Lowlanders
and Highlanders are naturally antagonistic, as was and is often assumed
by outsiders (Salemink 2003a). It does not mean that there was no contact
or commerce, as trade has linked Highlands and Lowlands alike with
international trade networks. Long-distance trade connected lowland and
highland places and populations, with important political and cultural
effects in both the Highlands and Lowlands. This is evident from the
lists of (upland) forest products exported by lowland states—elephant
tusks, rhinoceros horns, beeswax, aloe, eaglewood and cinnamon—as
recorded, for instance, in old reports and records of the Dutch East Indies
about mainland Southeast Asia (Muller 1917, Buch 1929, Van Wuysthoff
1987). It is equally evident from the range of “imported” prestige items
such as bronze gongs from Burma and jars from China, which played
a critical role in denoting political and ritual prestige in upland areas
all over mainland (Maitre 1912a; Bourotte 1955; Dournes 1970, 1977;
Condominas 1980; Hickey 1982a) and insular Southeast Asia (Harrisson
1986, Li Zhi-Yan et al. 1993), but especially (sea)salt, a necessity for
survival in the highlands (Salemink 2003a).
Despite the perception of perennial antagonism between Lowlanders,
who were organized in states, and Highlanders, who remained marginal
to lowland state centres, there has been a rich history of political contacts,
especially between Cham and Central Highlanders (Po Dharma 1987).
Until its defeat by the Vietnamese in 1471, Champa was a powerful “Indo-
nesian” Hindu state on the coast of Central Vietnam, and it maintained
well into the eighteenth century a reduced presence in the principalities
of Panduranga (Phan Rang) and Kauthara, located in the present-day
provinces of Ninh Thuận/Bình Thuận and Khánh Hòa. However, before
its incorporation into the expanding Vietnamese state and later the French
colonial empire, Champa consisted not only of the coastal Lowlands, but
also parts of the Central Highlands area as well—what Jacques Dournes
has called “Haut-Champa” (1970). Around the turn of the nineteenth
century many ruins, statues and other vestiges of this Cham presence
still existed in sites such as Kon Klor and Kodo/Bomong Yang (near
Kontum); Yang Mum (near Ayun Pa, in present-day Gialai province);
Yang Prong, north of Buôn Đôn in Dak Lak, close to the Cambodian
border; and in the form of “treasures” of Cham princes among Churu and
Roglai groups in present-day Lâm Đồng (Dournes 1970; Hickey 1982a:
91–107). Étienne Aymonier (1890), Adhémar Leclère (1904), Henri Maitre
(1912a), Bernard Bourotte (1955), Jean Boulbet (1967) and Gerald Hickey
(1982a) all recorded legends among Highlanders about the Cham and their
overlordship. In a recent article Andrew Hardy (2009) draws attention to
the “political economy of eaglewood” in Champa and Vietnam and the
importance of trade between Highlands and Lowlands for the lowland
polities. Two decades ago Po Dharma surmised that the Nguyễn lords
and emperors kept an autonomous Cham polity alive in order to use the
Cham cultural and trade networks for the extraction of precious forest
products through trade (1987-I: 174; 1987-II: 64 ff., 181), and pointed to
the interdependence and mutual influence—economic, political, military,
ritualistic—of lowland Cham and (Roglai, Churu, Koho) Highlanders
(1987-I: 181).
When the Việt replaced the Cham as overlords in the Lowlands
(1832), they soon became the dominant population through a process of
systematic colonization by the establishment of military colonies, đồn điền.
However, they usually did not venture as deep into the Central Highlands
as did the Cham, and hardly attempted to settle in the Highlands. When
the first Europeans arrived in Asia, they were not very interested in the
peoples living in the mountainous areas of mainland Southeast Asia.
Commerce and conversion being the main motivations for their ventures,
the Europeans contacted the better-accessible lowland states, where the
political forms of principalities and kingdoms and civilizations based on
wet-rice cultivation in a way mirrored the European state of affairs. If the
populations living in the mountainous areas bordering Laos, Cambodia,
Vietnam (Cochinchina) and, still, Champa were mentioned at all, it was
in passing only.3 When, for instance, the Portuguese Jesuit missionary
Christoforo Borri in his “Cochin-China in Two Parts” spoke of “a ridge
of mountains inhabited by the Kemois”, it was only in order to describe
the borders of Cochinchina (Borri 1811: 773).
Similarly, when the Dutch East India Company merchant Gerard van
Wuysthoff reported on his voyage in 1641–42 to the kingdom of Lauwen
(Laos), he mentioned a place called Phonongh, to the east of Sambor and
Sambock on the Mekong River in Cambodia. Chinese merchants would
venture there in order to acquire gold, elephant tusks and rhinoceros horns
(Muller 1917: 157).4 Borri described the Highlanders as a “savage people,
for though they are Cochin-Chinese, yet they in no way acknowledge or
submit to the King, keeping in the fastnesses of the uncouth mountains,
Situated among the different peoples along the Sino-Viet border areas, the
Việt must have experienced both intensive and extensive ethnic mixing.
These relations and interactions cannot be summarized in the simplistic
nationalist paradigm of “Việt” or “Han” versus mountain peoples, but
must have resulted from a long process of intensive interpenetration and
absorption, after which more solid and rigid identities took shape in the
modern period.
Hanoi in the Red River Delta in order to acquire military hardware and
know-how, and silver and copper in exchange for silk and ceramics. In
contrast with Đàng Trong, then, the maritime trade with Đàng Ngoài did
not involve highland products but commodities produced in the delta. For
a few decades the VOC was Đàng Ngoài’s major trading partner, until the
VOC factories closed down by the end of the seventeenth century. Trade
was no longer profitable for the VOC, who turned to competing regions,
but Đàng Ngoài had also become less hospitable to trade because of the
attitude of the Trịnh lords who tended to close Đàng Ngoài off from
international maritime trade.
In conclusion I would suggest that it was the demise of trade—not just
maritime trade but also inland trade via riverine and overland routes—in
both Đàng Trong and Đàng Ngoài that weakened both Việt states to a
point that they could surprisingly easily be overrun by a rebel army. In
other words, it was maritime trade—and by implication the connections
of the Lowland polities with the Highlands—that determined the fate of
Lowland Vietnam.
leaders “big men”, who were often in-migrants from Laos or lowland
Vietnam (Salemink 2003a). For instance, Gautier interacted with local
leaders of Lao, Vietnamese, Chinese and mixed descent living with
Highlanders but still maintaining a rudimentary Vietnamese administrative
infrastructure that had been more elaborate in the past (Gautier 1882,
1884, 1935; Maitre 1912a: 463–4; Dubourg 1950). Usually, such “big
men” were very influential in one or even several villages by virtue of
their position in the trade networks that linked Uplands with Lowlands
and Highlanders with Vietnamese, Laotian, Siamese and Chinese traders
and polities. Their political and ritual status depended on their wealth,
their military prowess, and their capacity for organizing feasts, which
would ensure their ritual primacy within their village. Their status was not
hereditary, and hence it was temporary—limited to one lifetime—and did
not evolve into a formal ruling class, thus effectively creating the system
of social oscillation and feasting that Thomas Kirsch described (Kirsch
1973, Hickey 1982b).
Thus, contrary to the French view of the Montagnards, the latter had
not been “isolated” before European contact. Rather, it was the French
themselves who isolated the Central Highlands in order to establish their
own influence in the area. In this respect, it is significant that the French
forbade the—very rapid—transmission of messages through fire or sound
signals (drums), with the suppression of the Sơn Phòng, thus effectively
cutting off communication (Salemink 2003a). This had to do with the fact
that a number of the “big men” had been the most outspoken opponents
of French colonial penetration, as their political power was threatened or
destroyed by the French. The same happened with their economic power
as a consequence of French efforts at controlling the long-distance trade
in the region (Maitre 1909: 161–2).
The career of Khun Jonob, aka Ma Krong, is illustrative in this regard.
Of mixed Lao-Mnong descent, Ma Krong controlled the capture and trade
of elephants in the region surrounding the local centre of Buôn Đôn (Bản
Đôn), which is still a centre of elephant domestication. At the time of the
Mission Pavie, Ma Krong served as an officer in the Siamese army, which
penetrated east of the Mekong River into the Central Highlands, earning
him the Siamese title (not name) of Khun Jonob. Ma Krong initially
opposed French penetration, because of his Siamese connections. French
colonial administrators such as Léopold Sabatier tended to suppress local
“big men” as rival contenders for power and as obstacles to colonial rule,
but Sabatier made an exception for Ma Krong, who became his ally as
Sabatier eventually became Ma Krong’s son-in-law when Ma Krong’s
daughter gave birth to their daughter H’Ni (Annie) in 1923. Sabatier used
Ma Krong’s influence over the Mnong and Rhadé (Êđê) to improve the
collection of head tax. This tax, together with the considerable tax levied
on the elephant trade, enabled Sabatier to establish an administrative
infrastructure in the highland province of Darlac, financially independent
from the colonial centre. As the drawing and closing of the colonial
border effectively diminished the international trade in elephants and other
upland “products”, Ma Krong changed his career. In a twist of irony, as
an ethnic Lao in-migrant in a Mnong village, he became the head of the
(Êđê) customary law tribunal in Buôn Ma Thuột and thus became a French
official, dependent on a salary for his income.
not bother the French. Colonel Pennequin defined the role of the French
authorities as a restricted one, granting each race its autonomy and keeping
a balance between the different interests of each race (De Lanessan 1895:
56–112; Galliéni 1941; Boudarel 1976: 137–40).
Let us take a closer look at two such local power wielders: Đề
Thám (aka Hoàng Hoa Thám) and Ðèo Văn Trí. In Vietnam’s nationalist
historiography Đề Thám was an anti-colonial hero who resisted and
outwitted the French in his home base of Yên Thế (Bắc Giang province)
until his assassination in 1913. This account fails to mention that for most
of the time after the French conquest of lowland and upland Tonkin, Đề
Thám had an agreement with the French that he would leave them alone
if they left him alone. Đề Thám was a Vietnamese general who in 1883
heeded King Hàm Nghi’s call to “save the king” and resist the French. In
1894, and again in 1898, Đề Thám struck an agreement with the French,
who ceded him an area that he could rule as a feudal lord. When he broke
that agreement in 1908, the French army went after him in Yên Thế and
finally killed him in 1913. Đề Thám may have been a patriot and an anti-
colonial resistance leader, but he was also a feudal leader who ruled over
an area of 22 villages populated by different ethnic groups. In other words,
political mobilization did not follow ethnic boundaries, and political
leadership was not linked to national affiliation but to feudal conceptions
of vassalage,11 which sooner or later had to clash with modern colonial
forms of statecraft.
The case of Ðèo Văn Trí is still more instructive. Ðèo Văn Trí was a
Thái feudal lord who—in the words of Charles Fourniau—“extended his
domination over a vast zone around Lai-châu largely flowing over into
the traditional border between China and the empire of Annam” (Fourniau
1989: 87). It was, after all, a normal practice under the Nguyễn Dynasty
that “marginal groups [were subjected] to tribute while the control by
the mandarinal administration was exercised via the intermediary of
customary chiefs” (Nguyễn Thế Anh 1989: 186). The prelude to Ðèo Văn
Trí’s rise to power was the incursion of the “Black Flags”, remnants of the
Taiping rebels in China who crossed into Tonkin in the 1860s and doubled
as “pirates” and as mercenaries for the Vietnamese court in their dealings
with refractory ethnic groups in the mountains (McAleavy 1968). This
cemented Ðèo Văn Trí’s position as vassal ruler of Mường Lai (the Lai
fief), with his seat in Lai Châu. After the French imposed their protectorate
over the remainder of Vietnam (Annam and Tonkin) in 1883, the regents
of the Huế Court revolted against them in 1885 but were defeated. The
young Emperor Hàm Nghi sought refuge in Cam Lộ and other mountain
these polities—can work well only if the seaport connects the maritime
trade with a hinterland that must be largely upland. Finally, then, it may
be interesting to speculate about the importance of such trade connections
both with overseas lands and with the mountainous hinterland for the
enduring viability of the lowland states. In the next section I would like to
sketch a picture of political, military and ritual leadership in upland areas
in connection with economic exchanges.
economic success and their ritual prestige, which was associated with their
(economic) capacity for feasting. Such big men often had many slaves,
either captured or from households that were indebted. Captured slaves
were mostly sold to the slave traders from Laos, Cambodia and as far as
Thailand, while indebted slaves were added to their household and were
practically indistinguishable from other household members. The big
men usually were cunning in their dealings with outsiders, which gave
them leverage over their fellow villagers, but they were never absolute
masters—not even within their own village or family. During their early
explorations, the French often dealt with such big men by either making
allies or making enemies out of them.
The political and ritual position of the big men required enormous
investments in the form of “feasting” (Kirsch 1973), the staging of ritual
feasts during which buffalo and other livestock had to be sacrificed, other
food consumed and rice wine drunk. Most of these resources had to be
invested by the big man, who then enjoyed the ritual and political prestige
associated with the feast. In other words, in order to be recognized as a
big man one had to have access to considerable economic resources. In an
economy that was mostly subsistence as far as staple and other everyday
foodstuffs (except salt) were concerned, wealth did not come from internal
exchange or appropriation of surplus, but from external trade. Such big
men enjoyed high status because of the trade in forest products, livestock
and—sometimes—slaves or opium. The forest products could include
precious wood (eaglewood, scenting wood, hardwoods), rattan, wax,
honey, spices such as cassia or cardamom, elephant tusks, rhino horns,
etc. Their commercial acumen tended to be personal rather than hereditary,
the reason why it was difficult to institutionalize such high status. One
often saw that such individuals possessing an extraordinary trade network
were recent in-migrants (often Lao or Việt) or people of mixed descent
who came to live among a particular local community, for instance, Khun
Jonob or Patao, “the king of the Cau Maa”.
In the Northern Highlands the example of the Ðèo Văn Trí lineage
shows that the valley-based small-scale hydraulic societies of the Thái
were more suited for hereditary, feudal systems of overlordship. This
example also shows that this brand of feudalism was not an exclusively
Thái affair, but that the overlordship extended over a territory where
various “ethnic” groups lived side by side. Moreover, it had to be backed
up by support from an outside military power (Lao, Chinese, Vietnamese,
French). Most important, it had to be sustained economically by long-
distance trade, in this case opium. In other words, local forms of political
domination were related to the location of the area in the economic and
political geography of the region, and the positioning of the elite in larger
networks of economic and political influence. As Arjun Appadurai (1996)
reinterprets the existing ethnographic record in terms of the production
of localities through ritual, notions of belonging, and what he calls
“neighbourhood” against the backdrop of continuous change, of flux and
flow, so can we reinterpret the ethnographic and historical record of places
such as Lai Châu or Điện Biên Phủ as particular forms of localization that
are necessarily linked to the wider environment—Vietnam, Southeast Asia,
the world.
In this context it is interesting to note that in the past, all over upland
Southeast Asia wealth was not only linked to political and ritual status,
but to the possession of particular objects as well. Such objects were
usually believed to have ritual significance. Sometimes such objects
were manufactured locally, but some kinds of objects were traded from
afar. As an example I would like to mention the Chinese ceramic jars
that one finds in upland societies all over Southeast Asia, and which had
to be transported over great distances to reach their destinations. Early
visitors to the Central Highlands of Vietnam or the uplands of Borneo or
the Philippines often marvelled at the size, beauty and antiquity of such
jars (Harrisson 1986, Li Zhi-Yan et al. 1993). Other precious objects
were often made of metal, e.g., the sets of bronze drums—resembling
gamelan—that one finds in upland Southeast Asia. In the area that Jean
Michaud calls the Southeast Asian Massif (which includes the Central
Highlands of present-day Vietnam and adjacent areas in Cambodia,
Laos, Thailand, Burma and Yunnan) the bossed gong sets that used to be
manufactured in Burma were the most prized ones. These objects, which
had ritual qualities and could be used to indicate wealth and status locally,
could be acquired only through long-distance trade. In other words, local
discourses on wealth and political/ritual status and related practices were
tied up with economic exchanges over long distances. In such a world,
there were no remote, isolated places.
Notes
1. Research for this paper was made possible by grants from WOTRO Science
for Global Development of the Netherlands Organization for Scientific
Research. Earlier versions of this paper were presented at the workshop on
Montane Choices and Outcomes: Contemporary Transformations of Vietnam’s
Uplands, held in Hanoi on 4–6 Jan. 2007; and at the workshop on “Revisiting
the ‘Frontier’ in the Southeast Asian Massif”, held in Singapore on 12–13
Dec. 2007. I would like to thank the discussants Janet Sturgeon and Craig
Reynolds, as well as Peter Boomgaard, Thomas Sikor, Cao Xuân Tứ, and the
organizers and participants of both conferences for their insightful feedback.
A greatly truncated version of this chapter was published as “Trading Goods,
Prestige and Power: A Revisionist History of Lowlander-Highlander Relations
in Vietnam”, in Linking Destinies: Trade, Towns and Kin in Asian History, ed.
Peter Boomgaard, Dick Kooiman and Henk Schulte Nordholt (Leiden: KITLV
Press, 2008, pp. 51–69). The Vietnamese translation of an earlier version was
published as “Một góc nhìn từ vùng cao: Phần lịch sử quan trọng về mối quan
hệ giữa đồng bằng và miền núi ở Việt Nam”, in Thời kỳ mở cửa: Những chuyển
đổi kinh tế: xã hội vùng cao Việt nam [Era of Opening Up: Socioeconomic
Changes in Vietnam’s Uplands], ed. Thomas Sikor, Jenny Sowerwine, Jeff
Romm and Nghiêm Phương Tuyến (Hanoi: Science and Technology Publishing
House, 2008, pp. 11–36). Although I have benefited from comments, all
mistakes are my sole responsibility.
2. For comparative work on China, see Harrell (1995) and Gladney (2004).
3. The official chronicler of the Société des Missions Étrangères, Adrien Launay,
mentions an attempt by P. Vachet to baptize Montagnards inland of Faifo
(present-day Hoi An), but fever forced him to go back to the plains (Launay
1894-I: 199). Jean-Dominique Lajoux (1977: 124) mentions an unpublished
manuscript by the Portuguese Jesuit priest João Loureira, De nigris Moï et
Champanensibus (1790), which is preserved in Lisbon. No published accounts,
however, exist of these ventures.
4. Van Wuysthoff probably referred here to the Phnong, as the Highlanders were
generically known by the Khmer, bearing connotations of “slave” and “savage”.
It is possible, but not necessary, that he was referring to the Mnong groups.
5. For the purpose of this paper it would be interesting to elaborate on the presence
of the Mạc pretenders in their Northern Mountains base of Cao Bằng, but this
is not possible here due to space constraints.
6. Li Tana was not the first scholar to propose looking at mainland Southeast Asian
history from the vantage point of the sea; in 1999 Alain Forest’s introductory
essay “L’Asie du Sud-Est continentale vue de la mer” appeared in Commerce
et navigation en Asie du Sud-Est (XIV e–XIX e siècle) [Trade and Navigation in
Southeast Asia (Fourteenth–Nineteenth Centuries)], ed. Nguyễn Thế Anh and
Yoshiaki Ishizawa (Paris: l’Harmattan, pp. 7–29).
7. This is also noted by Ursula Willenberg (1972) in her study of inter-ethnic
economic relations in southern Vietnam (in German), based mostly on French
sources.
8. For a more in-depth account of these expeditions and references to documentary
and published sources, see Hickey (1982a) and Salemink (2003a).
9. This person is not related to the three Patao/P’tau of the Jarai, who entertained
tributary relations with the courts of Cambodia and Vietnam. The word Patao
is of Cham origin, employed to designate politically and/or religiously superior
persons, such as kings, princes, local leaders, but also influential priests or
shamans. The Patao referred to here used this “title” with the connotation of
“king” in order to impress both his subjects and interested outsiders (see Yersin
1893).
10. See Salemink (2008).
11. The geographic situation of Đề Thám might be compared with the position
of the Mạc throne pretenders in their struggle against the Lê Dynasty in the
Upland View
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