Institute of Pacific Relations

Democracy in Southeast Asia?Author(s): Virginia ThompsonSource: Far Eastern Survey, Vol. 17, No. 20 (Oct. 20, 1948), pp. 241-243Published by: Institute of Pacific RelationsStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3022214 .

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supervising the export trade, the Government has ren- dered almost impossible the shipment of second-rate

products to which floor prices do not apply, thus reduc-

ing the volume of exports. (6) Because smuggling has become either impossible

or extremely expensive, local business in general will decline. In the pharmaceutical field, for example, both

simple compounds and such important remedies as

penicillin and streptomycin have been given ridiculously small import quotas and are to be retailed at fixed

prices; they are therefore almost unavailable. The situa- tion is similar for other fields, and such shortages are bound to reduce spending.

On the other hand, the Government has its own dilemma: it must promote the flow of trade, but it cannot officially permit merchants to sell at prices above the August 19 level (even though it has increased

its exchange rates by fifty percent). Nor can it guar- antee the dealers future supplies at the pre-August 19 level. It cannot permit public utility companies to raise their rates, and yet it cannot continue to subsidize them. And once the principle of adhering to price lev? els is breached, it is only a matter of time before a new, slow inflation becomes apparent.

Without fundamental changes in the import restric- tion scheme, it is difficult to foresee any solution for this

problem. Many doubt that it can be solved at all. Men of this latter opinion have advised the Government to establish a body of experienced businessmen in place of

an increasingly powerful bureaucracy. They have asked for the removal of red-tape regulations hampering eco?

nomic recovery. To date they have received no reply, and there would seem to be little hope of one in the near future.

DEMOCRACY IN SOUTHEAST ASIA?

BY VIRGINIA THOMPSON

k Iational governments could not have come to ' ^ power in Southeast Asia at a less propitious time than the present.1 They must cope with war-damaged economies, world chaos and shortages, and lack of in-

digenous capital and skills. These are serious handicaps, but greater than any of them is the psychology which has its roots in the Asian tradition of authoritarianism and which has developed during the struggle for power among the indigenous upper classes. The latter are so

preoccupied with maneuvering on a national or inter- national level that they tend to regard the masses as means to an end and to relegate paternalistic plans for their welfare to the distant future. The man-in-

the-paddyfield is important today almost exclusively as

manpower for the armies engaged in the independence struggle, for colonization of underpopulated areas, for

factory labor in new industries, or as a voter whose pnly

utility at present lies in the passive support he can give to one or another ruling group.

Postwar social and economic change in Southeast

Asia has not materially improved the condition of the

masses. There are, to be sure, very great extenuating circumstances. It is only three years since the end of a

war in which Japan exploited the whole area for her

own ends and the Allies bombed communication lines

and other objectives. Since the Japanese surrender, most of the area has been engaged in an all-absorbing struggle for independence. In Burma and Indonesia in?

dependence has been achieved or negotiated on the basis of respecting foreign enterprises; and no country in the area is willing to arouse the wrath of the great Oriental powers by taking strong measures against its Chinese and Indian minorities. Furthermore, national revenues have been seriously depleted by the effects of the war. Yet none of these considerations adequately explains the present state of affairs.

Domestic political change has consisted largely of alterations in the status of, and mutual conflict among, the upper strata of local society?royalty and various intellectual and propertied elements of the bourgeoisie. Except in Burma, where royalty is almost a defunct in-

stitution, the rulers have acquired new power since the end of the war. Having long survived solely as facades for rule by colonial "advisers," they are now playing a far more independent role in the political evolution of the area. Bao Dai, ex-Emperor of Annam, is a prom- inent figure in Indochina, as is the Sultan of Djokja, the most important Javanese principality, in Indonesia. Both are personally democratic and have held ofrkial

positions in the republican regimes which partially dis-

placed French and Dutch rule. They have shown no

desire for a return to imperial rule, but the loyalty which

their high birth still inspires among the traditionalist masses makes the direction of their influence important both to nationalists and to the erstwhile imperial pow? ers. To a slighter degree this holds true for the lesser

sultans of the Outer Islands of Indonesia and those of

Dr. Thompson spent some months last year studying conditions in Southeast Asia. She is author of Thailand: The New Siam, Post-Mortem on Malaya, and co-author of a new IPR study entitled Cultural Institutions and Educational Policy in South- east Asia.

1 In the present article the term "Southeast Asia" includes Burma, Indochina, Indonesia and Siam.

OCTOBER 20. I 948 241

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Malaya. Even in Siam, alleged responsibility for the death of King Ananda was a major factor in the fall of a government which theretofore had seemed impreg- nable.

Although they are no longer puppets, and although their influence is now courted by both of the main con-

tenders, the hereditary rulers cannot be described as the decisive element in the current struggles for internal

power. The chief protagonists are the mutually hostile branches of the indigenous bourgeoisie. The imperial powers are trying to solidify the vertical structure of

prewar days?from the hereditary rulers through the

propertied classes to the masses?and to isolate the intellectual revolutionaries, who are of bourgeois origin but who want to do away with the prewar order and all of its supporters, alien and native alike. If the im?

perial powers can keep the hereditary rulers and prop? ertied classes in line by granting them far more power than heretofore, and can prevent an alliance between the revolutionary intellectuals and the masses, they will have a chance of success. The failure, to date, of the

revolutionary intellectuals to establish a firm and lasting entente with the masses is a threat to the survival of the local independence movements. Many nationalist leaders apparently wish to perpetuate the colonial docil-

ity of the masses, although they may encounter some resistance in the slightly increased political consciousness which has followed the Pacific war and the subsequent struggles for independence.

Preoccupation with Nationalism

This neglect of the common man arises chiefly from the preoccupation of local nationalists with achieving political and economic independence from the West and at the same time preserving intact their own Asian

heritage. Asians foresee no domination of their culture

by a Western civilization which they complacently brand as materialistic. But in the economic sphere they feel

inferior, and the physical damage wrought by the war has made more imperative than ever before the as? sistance of Occidental techniques and capital. Yet the

Japanese occupation so sharpened nationalist sentiments that aid is refused when its acceptance or solicitation

might smack of subservience to the West. Largely in reaction to a capitalism which they have known only in the embrace of imperialism, the area's postwar lead? ers are thinking in socialistic and (to a lesser extent) communistic terms; yet they admittedly lack the means for implementing either creed. Similarly, in the field of international relations, economic nationalism is the goal of every nationalist government in the region, although each is at the same time eager to belong to those very world organizations which seek to minimize national barriers and to intensify economic exchange.

These contradictory desiderata, not to mention the

physical struggle for independence and economic reha-

bilitation, account in part for the lack of appreciable improvement since the war in the living standards of the bulk of the area's population. In large measure, however, this failure is due to a survival of the tradi- tional attitude of the Asian intellectual, who has as yet only imperfectly grasped the essence of genuine democ-

racy. Almost without exception the nationalist leaders of Southeast Asia are drawn from among the profes- sional classes of the bourgeoisie. The legislatures of

Siam, to cite the only long-established sovereign state

in the area, have consisted almost exclusively of teach? ers and lawyers, flanked by equally bourgeois members of the armed forces. The composition of the National

Assembly of Viet Nam is reportedly analogous, although there the military leadership comprises non-profession- als and does not represent a caste apart as it does in

Siam. In all of the national legislatures thus far estab- lished in Southeast Asia, farmers and businessmen are

conspicuous by their absence. Farmers have had no

opportunity to acquire political training or experience, and businessmen naturally fear a national revolution whose ideology cannot but undermine their prosperous status. Only where national elections have been held? in Burma, Siam and Viet Nam?has any attempt been

made to establish contact with the masses. And there

the relationship has been that of leaders and followers rather than that of a sovereign people and the men who

represent its will and interests.

Lip-service has been given to democratic ideals, and

pledges have been freely made to improve such nation-

building services as education, agriculture and public health. But none of the local governments, national and

colonial alike, has done much to ameliorate materially the living standards of the peasant, tenant farmer, fish-

erman or factory worker, which were low enough be?

fore the war and are still more wretched now. Only the fringe of the widespread rural-indebtedness problem has been touched by the various cooperative movements; nowhere (except possibly in Siam) is any one of them

even as strong as it was before the war. The usurer, whether alien or indigenous, has not been replaced by state-controlled agricultural banks. Rents on farmlands

may have been reduced and communal lands more

equitably divided, as the Viet Nam government claims

for the area under its control, but in no country of the

region is farming adequately or fairly financed, or have

the foreign-controlled processing industries and monop- olies been effectively or efficiently nationalized. Ex-

tenuating circumstances, though numerous and impres-

sive, hardly explain the continuing failure to improve

agricultural production, which is universally in indig? enous hands. Production has in fact been reduced as a

result of the failure to replace implements and draft animals lost during the war. The equipment of the local

242 FAR EASTERN SURVEY

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fisherman is even more rudimentary than before the

war; moreover, Japan's enterprising mechanized fishing fleets no longer bring a bigger and better-preserved catch to the peoples of the region, for whom fish is almost the

only protein food. Communications, never adequate in Southeast Asia, are worse than ever before. Continuing warfare in Indochina and Indonesia has destroyed the

equipment and profits of Western enterprises, but the farmer has in many instances lost his crop, his house, and even his life. Where strife is not current, a crime wave of unprecedented scope has endangered life and

property, especially in rural areas. The city dweller suffers not only from robberies but also from a severe

housing shortage and inflationary conditions.

Few Guarantees for the Future

It may with truth be argued that such a state of affairs is beyond the present control of local leadership, and that both the time and the means have been lacking to improve conditions for which the inertia and even the

policy of prewar imperial governments were essentially responsible. Imperial rule certainly does not represent a better state of affairs than independence. Dealing as they must with a largely illiterate population, the national governments have done considerable planning from which the masses will eventually benefit. Yet the

policies of the effective national governments of South? east Asia indicate little will to change their tactics. This is shown most clearly by the postwar behavior of Siamese

governments and, to a less significant extent, by those of Burma, Indonesia and Viet Nam.

Siam, which has had no civil strife since 1933 and which did not offer efTective resistance to the Japanese invasion, still spends about one-quarter of its budget on the armed forces. A long-standing plan to strengthen local administrations, chiefly by allotting them greater financial autonomy, has never been implemented be? cause the central government felt chronically threatened

by coups d'etat and undermined by the prevalence of

corruption among its provincial officials. Even after the

inauguration of constitutional government in 1932, plans for improving rural conditions were pigeonholed, large? ly because the bourgeois-controlled legislatures were afraid of "radical" nationalization schemes. In the coun- tries afflicted with armed strife, the central governments are, of course, even less willing to delegate authority and feel impelled to utilize every available means to achieve

unity and strength. In Indonesia the Republic has organized farmers as

well as industrial workers to strengthen its hand in

negotiations with the Dutch and to carry out its do- mestic programs. In Viet Nam, people's committees re-

portedly have been established at all economic and ad- ministrative levels. Yet, given the difficulty of commu-

nication, the low literacy rate, and the close-knit organ-

ization of the dominant nationalist party, it is hard to

imagine, unless the powers of the aristocracy are radi-

cally reduced, a popular vote which would go against the local landlord-usurers or the government itself.

In those countries actively engaged in independence struggles, the governments have tried valiantly to com?

bat illiteracy, but these efforts are tied in with political indoctrination. Vietnamese illiterates are taught "civics"

along with reading and writing; Indonesian factory workers learn nationalist slogans along with their alpha? bet. Throughout the area organized labor is used as an

instrument for achieving or retaining political power, in

relation either to the former imperial masters or to a

rival local faction. The situation is perhaps clearest in

Burma: there the imperial power has gracefully de-

parted, the former royal dynasty consists of impover- ished gentry, the Indian moneylenders would gladly

accept monetary compensation for their landholdings, and the ethnic minorities are by and large satisfied with

a generous share of political power. Yet the dominant

party, the Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League, and

its close rival, the Communist Party, are busily organ- izing farmers and factory workers to support their re?

spective claims to control; some of the intellectual and

propertied branches of the bourgeoisie are at grips with

another branch of the same origin and education; and

all are trying to utilize the masses for their own ends.

Southeast Asia is still economically a surplus area. Its peoples, though impoverished, are apparently not wretched enough to rise and exercise a power whose extent they do not yet comprehend. The intentions of the national leaders are generally good, even if vague. The latter generally represent a vast improvement over the previous generation of local politicos who were in? terested mainly in satisfying their personal ambitions for power and wealth. Time, peace, comparative pros- perity and, above all, a change of emphasis are, how?

ever, necessary to bring the place of the common man into democratic focus. Contemporary emergency condi? tions are such that the neglect from which he suffers is understandable. But, as regards long-range planning, the persistent indifTerence of Siam?because of its unique position in the area?is alarming if it is symptomatic of a trend in neighboring countries. No whole-hearted effort has yet been made by any government to teach its peo? ple to do political thinking for themselves. The masses are still to be led?though no longer by alien rulers but

by their compatriots who feel that they know what is best for them. Perhaps the soldiers now fighting the fac- tional or independence wars eventually will return with new ideas that may change their native villages. But for years to come the great bulk of the population in Southeast Asia is likely to be little more than a negative factor in the political, social and economic evolution of the area.

OCTOBER 20, I 948 243

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