Laos – Strategic Culture Foundation https://www.strategic-culture.org Strategic Culture Foundation provides a platform for exclusive analysis, research and policy comment on Eurasian and global affairs. We are covering political, economic, social and security issues worldwide. Mon, 11 Apr 2022 21:41:14 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.9.16 Why Laos, Vietnam & China Have Beaten the Virus and India, Brazil and the U.S. Have Not https://www.strategic-culture.org/news/2020/07/17/why-laos-vietnam-china-have-beaten-virus-india-brazil-and-us-have-not/ Fri, 17 Jul 2020 19:00:09 +0000 https://www.strategic-culture.org/?post_type=article&p=461872 Vijay Prashad explores the differences between the pandemic responses of a few countries with socialist governments and others in the capitalist order.

Vijay PRASHAD

Too little has been made of the fact that countries like Laos and Vietnam have been able to manage the coronavirus; there are no confirmed deaths from Covid-19 in either country. Both of these Southeast Asian states border China, where the virus was first detected in late December 2019, and both have thriving trade and tourist relations with China. India is separated from China by the high Himalaya Mountains, while Brazil and the United States have two oceans between themselves and Asia; nonetheless, it is the United States, Brazil, and India that have shocking numbers of infections and fatalities. What accounts for the ability of relatively poor countries like Laos and Vietnam to attempt to break the chain of this infection, while richer states – notably the United States of America – have floundered?

Our team at Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research has been studying the way in which governments in places like Laos and Vietnam have tackled the rapid spread of the coronavirus to better answer this fraught question. We looked closely at the experiences of three countries (Cuba, Venezuela, and Vietnam) and one Indian state (Kerala); these investigations are now published as our third CoronaShock study, “CoronaShock and Socialism.” In this investigation, it became clear to us that there are four principal differences between the Covid-19 response of countries with a socialist government and countries in the capitalist order:

Science Versus Hallucination

The moment that the Chinese scientists and doctors announced that the coronavirus could be transmitted between human beings on Jan. 20, 2020, the socialist governments went into action to monitor ports of entry and to test and trace key parts of the population. They set up task forces and procedures to immediately make sure that the infection would not go out of control amongst their people. They did not wait till the World Health Organization (WHO) declared a global pandemic on March 11.

This is in stark contrast to governments in the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, India, and other capitalist states, where there has been a hallucinatory attitude towards the Chinese government and the WHO. There is no comparison between the stance of Vietnam’s Prime Minister Nguy?n Xuân Phúc and U.S. President Donald Trump: the former had a sober, science-based attitude, while the latter has consistently laughed off the coronavirus as a simple flu as recently as June 24.

Miguel Guerra (Utopix, Venezuela), A los médicos cubanos (“To the Cuban Doctors”), 2020.

Internationalism Versus Jingoism & Racism

Trump and Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro seem to spend less time preparing to tackle the virus and more time blaming China for the virus, more concerned with deflecting their own incompetence than caring for their people. This was the reason that the WHO Director-General Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus called for “solidarity, not stigma.” Jingoism and racism could not save the United States or Brazil from the onrush of the pandemic; both countries quickly found themselves plunged into a severe crisis.

Meanwhile, it was Vietnam – a poor country that, within living memory, was bombed with weapons of mass destruction by the United States – that sent protective equipment to Washington, D.C., and it was Chinese and Cuban doctors who went around the world to offer their assistance in the fight against Covid-19. No medical teams from the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, or India could be seen anywhere. Marinating in racism, the dangerously incompetent leaders of these states tried to hypnotize their populations into carefreeness. The price being paid by the population is very high. That is the reason why the writer Arundhati Roy called for a tribunal to investigate the governments of Trump, Modi, and Bolsonaro for what amounts to a “crime against humanity.”

#CubaSalvaVidas Campaign, “We sent a doctor to Cuba; the doctor transformed into millions,” 2020.

Public Versus Profit Sectors

The term “flatten the curve” is a surrender to the reality in states that have privatized healthcare and shrunk their public health systems, which cannot handle a pandemic. As we showed in dossier no. 29 (June 2020), “Health Is a Political Choice,” the assault on public health systems led the WHO to warn about the dangers of the surge of any pandemic in countries that had accepted the neoliberal mandate to privatize healthcare delivery.

Countries like Vietnam and Cuba were able to rely upon their public health systems and their public sector to produce whatever was necessary to fight the virus – from protective equipment to pharmaceutical drugs. This is the reason why it was Vietnam – a poor country – that was able to send the United States – a rich country – half a million units of protective equipment.

Public Action Versus Paralysis & Atomization

Kerala, a state of 35 million, saw its many mass organizations of youth and women, workers and peasants, as well as its many cooperatives, directly enter the process of breaking the chain of infection and providing relief for the population. One cooperative, Kudumbashree – made up of 4.5 million women – produced masks and hand sanitizers at enormous volumes, while trade unions built sinks at bus stations. This type of public action was apparent across the socialist world, from Cuba’s Committees for the Defence of the Revolution, which mobilized to make masks and support health campaigns, to Venezuela’s community kitchens and Local Committees for Supply and Production (CLAP), which expanded food deliveries to ensure that people’s nutritional needs were met.

This level of public action is simply not available in the advanced capitalist countries, where mass organizations have been tethered and voluntary action has become professionalized in non-profit organizations. It is ironic that in these large democracies, the populations have been atomized and have come to rely upon state action, which remains decidedly absent.

Hiep Le Duc (Vietnam), (“To stay at home is to love your country!”), 2020.

It is for these reasons that Laos and Vietnam have had no deaths, and that Cuba and Kerala were able to hold down the rates of infection; if not for the people infected in Venezuela’s neighboring countries (Brazil and Colombia), mired in neoliberal policies, the numbers of those infected would be even lower, though the country’s current total of 89 deaths from Covid-19 pales next to Brazil’s 72,151, the U.S.’ 137,000, and Colombia’s 5,307. It is worth noting that, despite this vast discrepancy in numbers, Venezuela’s President Nicolás Maduro would still insist on the severity not only of the disease itself but of the value of each of the 89 lives lost.

But countries like Laos, Vietnam, Cuba, and Venezuela face severe challenges, even as they have largely been able to contain the virus. Cuba and Venezuela remain threatened by a callous sanctions program set in place by the United States; they cannot easily get access to medical supplies or easily pay for them.

A government official from Laos told me, “We defeated the virus crisis. Now we are going to be defeated by the debt crisis, which we did not create.” This year Laos will have to pay $900 million to service its external debt; its total foreign exchange holdings amount to under $1 billion. The coronavirus recession, absent the universal cancellation of debt, has produced a serious challenge to these socialist governments who have been able to valiantly manage the pandemic. A call for debt cancellation in this context is a matter of life and death. This is why it is a key part of the “Ten-Point Agenda for the Global South After COVID-19.

For good reason, my mind wandered to poets and militants from an earlier era who fought to produce humanity in the world. Two Iranian poets came to mind, both killed in different ways by the dictatorship of the Shah: Forough Farrokhzad (1934-1967) and Khosrow Golsorkhi (1944-1974). Farrokhzad’s wonderful poem, “Someone Who Is Not Like Anyone,” urges the arrival of someone who will come and “distribute the bread,” “distribute the whooping-cough syrup,”, and “distribute the hospital admission numbers.” She died in a car accident; the circumstances mysterious.

Golsorkhi was accused of plotting to kill the Shah’s son. At his trial, he announced, “As a Marxist, my address is to the people and to history. The more you attack me, the further I am from you and the closer I am to the people. Even if you bury me – and you certainly will – people will make flags and songs from my corpse.” He left behind many cherished songs, including one which gives us the title of this newsletter and is an exhortation against the uncertainty of our times:

We must love one another!
We must roar like the Caspian

even if our cries are not heard
we must bring them together.

Each heartbeat must be our song

the redness of blood, our banner
our hearts, the banner and the song.

Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research via consortiumnews.com

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Where the Silk Roads Meet the Mighty Mekong https://www.strategic-culture.org/news/2019/04/26/where-the-silk-roads-meet-the-mighty-mekong/ Fri, 26 Apr 2019 11:18:00 +0000 https://www.strategic-culture.org/?post_type=article&p=85331 Pepe ESCOBAR, Luang PRABANG

The small wooden boats slowly make their way down the brown waters of the Mekong at sunset. Flowing meditation – just enjoying the silence, watching the river flow. Then, suddenly, in the distance, an apparition – a row of cement Ts.

Like a high-tech divinity, the 21st century irrupts across the immemorial Mekong, which in Laos is appropriately named Mae Nam Khong or the Mother of Waters.

Welcome to the China-Indochina Peninsula Economic Corridor, one of the key planks of the New Silk Roads, or Belt and Road Initiative (BRI).     

Spiritual beginnings

It’s tempting to regard the bridge as a post-modern naga. In the inestimable The Enduring Sacred Landscape of the Naga, published by Mekong Press, Lao scholars Mayoury and Pheuiphanh Ngaosrivathana track the literally fantastic world of animated beings in the Mekong basin – totemized reptiles such as the serpent, or ngu, the salt-water crocodile (ngeuak) and supernatural beings such as the naga.

These tutelary spirits, controllers of water and rainfall, local proprietors of the soil and guardians of its fertility, wealth and welfare – these are the autochthonous spirits tamed by Buddhism collectively known as naga. Worship of the naga – in rituals, festivals, daily life – has shaped the lives and life cycles of Mekong populations for millennia.

The new naga will take the form of Made in China high-speed trains – for passengers of course, but mostly for cargo – crossing the Mekong back and forth and crucially bypassing the Maritime Silk Road along the South China Sea.     

The numbers by the Lao Ministry of Public Works and Transport are impressive – the Kunming-Vientiane high-speed railway, started in 2016 and to be completed in 2021, features 72 tunnels, 170 bridges and will have trains speeding along at 160 km an hour.

The China-Indochina Peninsula Economic Corridor is one of the six main BRI corridors identified back in March 2015. These are BRI’s land arteries – the backbone of an intricate, integrated continental landmass featuring multiple layers of transportation, telecom, energy infrastructure, financial, trade, political and economic projects and agreements. 

Northern Laos, a maze of mountains, jungles and a few rivers, for a long time was virtually isolated until the opening of borders with Vietnam and China led to immense economic and demographic transformations – with traditional rice-based agriculture giving way to speculative commercial agriculture.

Laos is landlocked between powerful neighbors China and Thailand.

A North-South economic corridor has been the favored strategy by both China and Thailand to develop commerce, tourism and investments in Laos. Mountain people minorities linked to Chinese culture such as the Chin Haw, Akha, Yao and Hmong, who speak Lao and know Lao culture, were cast as the perfect intermediaries and partners.

Especially in the BRI era, connections with China, both in the formal and informal economy, are now overtaking connections with Thailand. Vientiane – not exactly a transparent government – has encouraged Chinese investments of extremely dubious value in luxury hotels, malls and casinos in Special Economic Zones (SEZs) along the Chinese border.   

At the same time, Chinese companies have been pouring billions of dollars into the productive development of these SEZs, as well as in dams, mines and rubber plantations.

Railway on track

But that still pales compared to the more than 40,000 Chinese working for six Chinese contractors, in six different segments, duly supervised by Huang Difu, chairman of the Laos-China Railway Company and general manager of China Railway International.

The railway will be 70% financed by Beijing, the remaining 30% for Vientiane – roughly $840 million – are supported by a low-interest Chinese loan of $500 million. A Lao bauxite mine plus three potash mines secure the Chinese loan.

Kunming-Vientiane is a stark example of how BRI projects usually face a maze of political and financial hurdles. The original design, from 2011, predates the New Silk Roads, which were launched in 2013. Much of the problems have to do with the toxic land for development equation – a situation not much different in Cambodia and Myanmar.   

In Luang Prabang, I was told of countless cases of villagers forced to leave their homes and who are still waiting for fair compensation from Vientiane. In Laos there are a dizzying 242 different categories of compensation – spanning everything from mango trees five years of age or older, to hardwood and teak trees less than one year old, not to mention crucial land in main transportation hubs.

In fact, the former royal capital – a fragile jewel that must be preserved from the mass tourism hordes at all costs – receives more attention from the EU and Asean, not to mention Unesco, than from the bureaucrats in Vientiane.

All these worries at least disappear every single morning at the binthabat, or rice-collecting ritual, when rows of Buddhist monks are offered rice in their earthen bowls by rows of women on their knees. 

In Global South terms, Laos is booming. In mainland Southeast Asia, the Chinese strategy is mostly focused on Laos and Thailand. Beijing expects that the lure of those cross-border SEZs is able to convince skeptical Vietnam and Myanmar of Chinese “flexibility.”

Much more than interest rates on Chinese loans – which in fact are small – the red alert on BRI-related projects in Laos concerns the environmental impact, and the fact that Laos is a poor, landlocked transit nation, it may be paying in the future a disproportionate social and environmental cost for projects that mainly benefit the Chinese economy. 

A sharp contrast is offered by Ock Pop Tok, or East meets West in Lao, an indigenous model of fair trade, sustainable business, socially conscious enterprise founded by a Lao and an Englishwoman in 2000, managed by women, and for the benefit of Lao women.

Ock Pop Tok started with five weavers and now links to more than 500 in villages across Laos. Textile production in Laos carries an immensely significant cultural value. Technical and esoteric knowledge has been transmitted from generation to generation in each village specific to a subgroup, a powerful sign of strong cultural identity. 

Silk has been cultivated in Laos for more than 1,000 years. Ock Pop Tok managed to assemble master weavers using techniques practiced by the Tai Kadai ethnic group since 800 BC, when they left Yunnan.

Everything, of course, is bio – natural dyes, handmade. I could not resist an absolutely stunning silk prayer flag weaved by Meng. Support for this added-value artisan knowledge translates into rural populations staying in their communities instead of betting on a usually troublesome urban exodus.

Ock Pop Tok also promotes Hmong artisans. Hmongs are animists who came from Tibet and Mongolia by the early 19th century. There are more than 49 ethnic groups in Laos. Westerners classify them by language – Mon, Khmer, Sino-Tibetan, Tai, Kadai – while in Laos they are recognized by where they live – on the plains, in plateaus or high in the mountains. 

It’s this extremely complex, fragile, social and environmental system that from 2021 will have to learn to coexist with the era of the high-speed naga. 

asiatimes.com

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