Category: Laos

  • Activists and family members fear Lu Siwei will be deported back to China, where he could be sent to prison

    A Chinese rights lawyer stripped of his licence for taking on sensitive cases has been arrested in Laos, and activists and family members are worried he will be deported back to China, where he could be jailed.

    Lu Siwei was seized by Laotian police on Friday morning while boarding a train for Thailand. He was on his way to Bangkok to catch a flight to the US to join his wife and daughter.

    Continue reading…

    This post was originally published on Human rights | The Guardian.

  • A severe lack of teachers in Laos is forcing school districts to use volunteer staff, merge some schools and close others, a trend that lawmakers warn could cause future generations to lose access to education.

    During the Lao National Assembly’s 5th ordinary session, from June 26 to July 18, lawmakers spent a lot of time discussing the teacher shortage.

    Representing the southern province of  Savannakhet, Xayxomseun Phothisan urged the assembly to hire more state employees and approve budgets to pay teacher salaries so that each school would have the adequate number of faculty needed to function.

    “If the government does not have any solution to this urgent problem,  more schools in many provinces will be closed and students will lose access to education,” she said.

    ENG_LAO_TeacherShortage_07192023.2.jpg
    Students have lunch, which came from international donors, at a rural school in Savannakhet province, Laos, March 2023. Credit: RFA

    This year, the government is allowing recruitment of 285 new teachers nationwide, down from the 340 it hired last year. The downward trend in teacher hiring began in 2017, when the state employee quotas were reduced each year due to limited budget.

    School closures

    Savannakhet province has only 223 teachers on its payroll for the entire province. More than 430,000 people in Savannakhet are aged 19 or younger, though not everyone in that demographic goes to school. 

    Though the province ranks first in the nation for school attendance between the ages 6-11, only 68.7% of Savannakhet children between the ages of 6-8 are attending school. For ages 9-11, the percentage rises to 85.2%.

    There are also 21 schools in the province that are staffed by unpaid volunteers, many of whom quit when they learned, sometimes after eight years of working, that they would not be able to transition into paid roles.

    Because of the teacher shortage, the province is expected to close 25 schools.

    The Lao government has approved the province hiring 47 new teachers, but spread over 15 educational districts, it means only three new teachers per district, nowhere near enough to serve the student population.

    Most of the schools experiencing teacher shortages were primary schools in rural areas, because teachers have little desire to work there, representatives of Savannakhet province’s Department of Education and Sport told RFA’s Lao Service. 

    The capital Vientiane also faces a teacher shortage, with 900 on payroll – far short of what it needs. There are around 3 million youth aged 19 or younger in Vientiane, yet the central government will allow hiring only 16 new teachers. The capital is expected to close seven schools.

    “The lack of teachers is widespread,” an official from Vientiane’s Department of Education and Sport told RFA. “We need over 900 more teachers in order to meet our plan. …The only thing we can do is to inform students to go to schools in other villages and dissolve the small schools, where there are no teachers.”

    The official said that Vientiane had already merged seven schools since 2021 including three last year as the teacher supply dwindles. 

    Aging teachers

    In Luang Prabang province’s XiengNgeun district, volunteer teachers are quitting in large numbers, an education official said.

    ENG_LAO_TeacherShortage_07192023.3.jpg
    Students have lunch, which came from international donors, at a rural school in Savannakhet province, Laos, March 2023. Credit: RFA

    “We need about 100 more teachers for primary and secondary schools,” the official said. “The quality of our education in the district, according to the national indicators, may not meet the plan.”  

    He said that many of the paid teachers are old and close to retirement, and some of them face health problems. However, development of younger teachers to replace them is lagging. 

    Though the district has not seen a school closure yet, when the old teachers retire the problem will get worse, he said.

    “The quota from the central government to the province to recruit new state employees has been reduced,” the district official said. “We only received permission to hire 10 new teachers this year. … For primary schools in the city areas, we have a solution by assigning one teacher to teach in 2 or 3 schools. But in the rural areas, that kind of thing is very hard to do.”

    Translated by Phouvong. Edited by Eugene Whong and Malcolm Foster.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA Lao.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • More than 500 prison inmates have been sentenced to death in Laos – some more than a decade ago – but the country’s dysfunctional legal system and unclear prison procedures have left the inmates languishing for years, the country’s minister of public security said.

    Many of the inmates were convicted on drug charges and have had their sentences reduced to life in prison, Lt. Gen. Vilay Lakhamfong, head of the Ministry of Public Security and deputy prime minister, told lawmakers at a National Assembly session on Thursday. 

    Authorities have even released some inmates who had originally been sentenced to death, which hasn’t helped Laos make any headway on combating illicit drug production, trafficking, and related criminal activity, he said. 

    “Lao laws do not mandate where and how to execute them, by firing squad or by lethal injection,” Lakhamfong told lawmakers. 

    International organizations oppose the two execution methods, he said, adding that about 90% of Laos’ death-row sentences are drug-related.

    “They don’t want us to do that; therefore, we have to keep them in jail and give them life sentences,” Lakhamfong said. 

    Laos has not officially abolished the death penalty, though the last known execution, done by shooting, occurred in 1989, according to the World Coalition Against the Death Penalty. In the past, authorities never disclosed the number of prisoners put to death, the crimes they had committed, or the places of execution.

    Now government and legal bodies involved in drafting laws are updating death-sentence procedures and are expected to complete their work by year end, Lakhamfong said.  

    Largely poor landlocked Laos is part of the Golden Triangle, an area that converges with Myanmar and Thailand at the confluence of the Mekong and Ruak rivers, and is a haven for crimes, including the drug trade, by organized criminal networks.

    Though Lao authorities have committed to combating drug trafficking, it remains rife in the Golden Triangle. In February, authorities there seized 500 kilograms of crystal meth in one of the largest hauls of the narcotic in the notorious zone. 

    Setting a bad example

    Meanwhile, members of the general public have urged authorities to execute inmates on death row so that people have faith in the country’s legal system.

    One Laotian told Radio Free Asia that if authorities continue to pardon prisoners with death sentences, they will likely return to drug trafficking or the drug trade once they are out of jail.

    “They should execute them, not just say it but do it, in the middle of a field and let all the other [prisoners] see it,” he said.

    Another Lao citizen said if the inmates are let out of prison, it will set a bad example for others involved in the drug trade because they won’t fear getting caught and sent to jail.

    “Inmates with death sentences should be executed right away if a court verdict orders an execution, and the law should be decisive and trustworthy,” he said. “If they do not execute them, then those who are in drug businesses right now will not fear the law, and that will undermine the country’s judicial system.”

    A Lao legal expert, who declined to be named so he could speak freely, said authorities should carry out death sentences based on legal mandates, rather than keeping inmates in jail for 10-20 years, reducing their sentences to life in prison, and later releasing them.

    “It is not good for society if inmates often ask for a pardon from a death sentence to get life in prison, but after 10 to 20 years are released,” he said.

    Translated by Sidney Khotpanya for RFA Lao. Edited by Roseanne Gerin and Matt Reed.

    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA Lao.

  • Laos has begun importing gasoline from China instead of purchasing it from neighboring Thailand amid an ongoing economic crisis, including surging inflation that has prompted one lawmaker to call for an increase in salaries for domestic workers and state employees.

    The first shipments of gasoline arrived in Laos last week following the signing of a memorandum of understanding in late May by the Vientiane Petroleum State Enterprise, managed by the Lao Ministry of National Security, SINOPEC Hong Kong and SINOLAO. 

    Under the deal, Laos will import fuel from China for wholesale and retail distribution, according to the Laotian Times.

    SINOPEC Hong Kong delivered the initial fuel consignments to the two Lao entities at the Boten international border crossing in Luang Namtha province on June 27. 

    Gasoline prices in Laos have increased four times this year amid a serious economic slump characterized by high inflation, worsening public finances and the devaluation of the Lao currency, the kip.

    But some consumers said they believe that the price of petrol will drop slightly or remain the same because the Chinese entered the deal to make a profit. 

    “It’s businesses — not policy, not aid,” said a Lao entrepreneur who imports fuel, asking not to be identified to speak freely. “If the government imports more, it will reduce gas prices in Laos, and the price at the pumps will go down.”

    The Lao government has turned to China for gasoline because it doesn’t have the foreign currency to buy it from Thailand, which accepts payments only in Thai baht or U.S. dollars, said a Lao intellectual who is familiar with the situation. 

    China, however, accepts Lao kip or Chinese yuan as payment, or allows the Lao government to take out a loan with a high interest rate to pay for gasoline imports, ensnaring the country in a debt trap, he said.

    Landlocked Lao does not have its own gasoline production company, but rather a business in Xiengkhouang province that refines imported crude oil from overseas.

    Call to raise salaries

    As rising prices, including that of gasoline, hit Laotians hard in their wallets, some officials are trying to mitigate the financial pain.

    Also on June 27, Oudom Vongkaysone, a lawmaker from Borikhamxay province, urged the government to increase the salaries of both ordinary Lao workers and state employees.

    He urged the government to increase the monthly minimum wage to 1.8 million-2 million kip (US$94-104).

    During a meeting of the National Assembly, Vongkaysone said that if the government could not increase salaries, it should find other ways to lessen their financial hardship, such as issuing more bonuses, paying overtime or increasing pension amounts. 

    Otherwise more state employees will quit their jobs and more workers will head to neighboring countries for better-paying jobs, he said.

    He also called on the Lao government to rein in inflation and urged citizens to use the kip in financial transactions instead of foreign currency.

    A Lao garment factory worker told Radio Free Asia that she cannot live on her 1.3 million kip monthly salary, and wants to see her pay raised to 2 million-3 million kip so she and her family can survive the country’s high inflation.

    An official from the Lao Federation of Trade Unions who requested anonymity so as to speak freely told RFA that a decision to raise the minimum wage would take a long time to implement if adopted.

    “The government has to conduct a survey of the price of goods in the market first to find out if it is necessary or not to raise the minimum wage,” he said.

    Businesses opposed

    Some Laotians have headed to Thailand and South Korea for jobs, where wages are higher than at home.

    “The rate of exchange is high, 1 million Lao kip can’t buy much, and foods and essential things are more expensive than before,” said one Laotian. “Workers have gone to work in Thailand because the pay rate is higher over there.”

    But entrepreneurs who own businesses in Laos are against raising the minimum wage, saying the move would threaten their survival. They would not be able to pay their workers 1.8 million-2 million kip per month if the lawmaker’s proposal is adopted, some of them said.

    “Entrepreneurs don’t want to pay high salaries,” said one business owner.

    A factory owner said his enterprise could not afford to pay higher salaries of about 1.6 million-1.8 million kip, but no more.

    “It would be too much to pay,” he told RFA.

    A garment factory owner in the capital Vientiane said she could not immediately raise salaries to 1.8 million kip or more because of high production costs and the kip’s devaluation, and that any future increases should be incrementally implemented over several months.

    An official at the Ministry of Finance said the government’s ability to raise the monthly minimum wage depends on the state budget, and salaries cannot be increased if there is a deficit.

    “We want to raise the salaries of state employees between 1.8 million and 2.5 million kip per month, but it depends on the state budget,” he said.

    Translated by Sidney Khotpanya for RFA Lao. Edited by Roseanne Gerin and Malcolm Foster.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA Lao.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • The effort to fight widespread government corruption in Laos – for years a declared goal of the country’s top leaders – got a boost from the United Nations this week.

    At a training conducted by the U.N.’s Office on Drugs and Crime, Vientiane municipal workers learned how to recognize money laundering, audit the finances of state enterprises and inspect government concession projects.

    Berlin-based Transparency International’s 2022 Corruption Perceptions Index ranked Laos 126 of 180 countries it evaluated in fighting corruption.

    “Cooperation included officials from the state inspector general’s office and others from related outside sectors,” an official from the Office of Inspector General told Radio Free Asia. “This time we did the training in Vientiane. Later, we’ll have one for government officials in Savannakhet province.”

    The government has promised in the past to address corrupt practices that have put off potential foreign investors from pumping money into much-needed infrastructure and development.

    However, despite the enactment of an anti-corruption law that criminalizes the abuse of power, public sector fraud, embezzlement and bribery, Laos’ judiciary is weak and inefficient, and officials are rarely prosecuted.

    One official who said he worked as an inspector in Vientiane for a decade told RFA last year that he and his colleagues review the finances of government offices and departments but not those of individual officials who are powerful members of the party and the government.

    “Nobody would dare inspect them,” he said.

    ‘They do it in a group’

    It could be very difficult to solve Laos’ corruption problem, even with stricter laws, a Laotian who asked to remain anonymous said to RFA this week. So far, no government officials have been sent to prison for corruption, he said.

    “Laws are strict but enforcement is weak, and that’s not strong enough to solve the problem,” he said.

    Over the last two or three years, some officials have been fired or moved to other positions – but that’s been the extent of the government crackdown, a former state employee told RFA. 

    “There are many state employees who are corrupt,” he said. “Police, tax collectors, even employees of mineral companies. They do it in a group, with the involvement of high-ranking officials.”

    A report last year from the country’s State Inspection Authority said the Lao government had lost US$767 million to corruption since 2016, with government development and investment projects – such as road and bridge construction – the leading source of the widespread graft.

    At the time, nearly 3,700 members of the communist Lao People’s Revolutionary Party had been disciplined, with 2,019 expelled and 154 people charged, the report said.

    Another report from the Asian Development Bank found that almost 70 percent of businesses that applied for registrations, licenses and permits in Laos paid bribes to government officials to get approval.

    Translated by Sidney Khotpanya. Edited by Matt Reed.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA Lao.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Laos’ Ministry of Home Affairs has launched a hotline that citizens can call for government assistance, but many are afraid to use it because callers must reveal personal information.

    After dialing 1526 to report an issue, callers must also provide their names, phone numbers and addresses so that police or officials can contact them if they require more information.

    “If they call asking authorities to solve a particular problem, the police can call them back easily after the issue is investigated and solved,” a related government official, who like all sources in this report requested anonymity for security reasons, told RFA’s Lao Service. 

    The official said since the hotline was launched on June 1, many have called asking for the ministry to solve problems and others have called to comment on the work of the ministry, but she was not at liberty to discuss how many people have called or what any of their requests were.

    The Lao government has been using hotlines for public engagement since 2016. The country’s National Assembly also has an open hotline where people can raise issues for it to address.

    But several Lao residents said they were reluctant to use the new hotline because they doubt the ministry can do anything to solve the problem, and they do not want to get in trouble for reporting problems.

    “If you ask for help from the government in a one-party country, and ask them too many times, it’s not good for you,” a resident said. “You have to reveal all your personal information so everybody is afraid to call.”

    Another resident said he was not interested in using them because hotlines in the past were ineffective in solving problems.

    A third villager said that usually nobody answers government hotlines so it is useless to call them.

    A Lao resident who identified as a Christian said that Christians have used hotlines once in a while to inform the ministry when they are harassed by local authorities. 

    Sometimes officials come to try to solve the problem but most of the time the complaints are ignored, the person said.

    “The good part of using the hotline is that we can inform the ministry of problems that we are concerned about and need them solved,” the Christian said. “However, many problems are still not solved … they always say they are still working on it”

    A Lao intellectual told RFA that most people do not trust government hotlines because they are afraid of retribution. For example, if they were to reveal government corruption, the responsible officials could use the power of their positions to punish them.

    Translated by Sidney Khotpanya. Edited by Eugene Whong.

    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA Lao.


  • This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by Radio Free Asia.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Recently, a group of advocates, NGO workers and scholars working in the Mekong region gathered to discuss the far-reaching and compounding impacts of hydropower dams on regional environments and societies. Using the notion of rupture as a way to explore dramatic socio-ecological change, and its consequences, this gathering included a sobering discussion of current pressures faced by civil society in Mekong countries.

    Just as the Mekong river has been controlled and curtailed by dams, so have the voices of civil society actors who contest environmental and social injustices in the region. Such contestation is not just about dams, but also about land, resources, and rights.

    Illustration of the workshop discussion on civil society and rupture.

    Over the last five years, pressure on civil society actors has increased dramatically in the Mekong region. Advocates for social and environmental justice, and the citizens they speak for, now fear arrest, intimidation and violence, as authoritarian states seek to control dissenters and critics. Take, for example, the arrests of environmental advocates in Cambodia in 2021 and Vietnam in 2022, which have served as a stark warning to those who speak out.

    This rising sense of oppression goes hand in hand with new atmospheres of violence and despotic power globally—as seen in the record number of environmental defenders killed in 2021. Citizens across China and Southeast Asia are now contending with new forms of state coercion and violence. The case of Myanmar is most blatant, with the execution of four pro-democracy advocates in July 2022. Yet state power also advances through the deployment of laws to manage emerging public health and safety issues like COVID-19 and cyber-crime: conveniently, these laws enable oppressive states to silence dissent, as seen in Cambodia, Myanmar and the Philippines.

    In short, as environmental and social pressures intensify in the Mekong region, it appears that governments have become increasingly sensitive to contestation. This is especially true in the context of environmental struggles, which are now more than ever struggles over political space, freedom of expression, and social justice. In this context, we find that—like the Mekong river itself, whose waters cannot be entirely controlled—potentialities and possibilities for power to be exercised by ordinary people still remain, even as controls on civil society shift and tighten.

    Shrinking political space

    The space for civil society to operate may be understood in terms of people’s perceptions of what political actions and expressions are possible. These openings are uneven across issues, groups, time and space: some political expressions may be possible in capital cities with few repercussions, while the same activity in an Indigenous or ethnic minority community would be suppressed by governments. Likewise, critical moments for civil society can open and close, as seen recently in Vietnam in the context of parliamentary meetings or high-level negotiations over trade agreements: these are moments of high NGO influence and political tension. Importantly, the fact that political space has become more constricted in the Mekong region in recent years does not mean this will always and everywhere be the case. Advocates continue to find pathways to work within existing spaces, pressing against their boundaries.

    An increasingly important political space for civil society in the region is the legal domain. While the law can and should provide an avenue to pursue justice, it can also be used as a weapon by ruling authorities to target oppositional voices. The Vietnamese government’s use of “tax evasion” charges, for example, alongside new “financial compliance” rules for NGOs, illustrate how the law can be used instrumentally as a means of oppression. Here, critical voices are silenced using mundane domestic laws that render politics invisible and prevent international support from being channelled to advocates. The consequences for those who are targeted, and their families and communities, are devastating. As one participant at our workshop from Vietnam observed: “fighting these legal cases takes all of our time and passion”.

    Laws that are purported to formalise civil society space are a double-edged sword that can also be used by states as instruments of control. A clear example is Cambodia’s 2015 “Law on Associations and Non-Government Organisations” (LANGO), which has been used to suspend organisations that contest government-backed land grabbing and resource appropriation. This, in conjunction with other silencing instruments in Cambodia’s penal code like the 2020 “Incitement to Commit a Felony”, has had a chilling effect on civil society.

    In contrast, in Laos, where civil society has long been highly curtailed, the legal domain is now a key platform for NGOs and advocates to express their concerns. For example, openings have emerged for civil society to participate in dialogues with donors and the Lao National Assembly on “legal reform”. But such opportunities can also be a burden, as civil society’s limited capacity is distracted and absorbed into an endless legal-regulatory churn in Vientiane. Local NGOs observed that policy discussions in the capital have had little impact upon conditions faced by villagers in rural areas, where a UN Special Rapporteur observed a “near total lack of space for freedom of expression” after the arrests of villagers involved in land conflicts.

    Agency in a constrained world

    In contemplating these new constraints to civil society in the Mekong region, we must consider how agency now appears in different forms and places. We adopt the concept of agency here, as opposed to resistance, because it implies a wider repertoire for the oppressed. Broadly speaking, agency can be explored in terms of the practices, habits and ideas of actors that might transform existing institutions and social relations—or indeed reproduce them. Agency is distinct from resistance because it can be performed within dominant structures, without overtly challenging them—a notion that is akin to James Scott’s “weapons of the weak”. Viewed in this way, we observed three key domains of agency:

    First, we note the power of social media to gain visibility for key issues, even though this domain has become risky for those who dare to be outspoken. In Laos, for example, urban citizens and NGOs used social media to connect and organise emergency relief in the aftermath of the 2018 Xepian Xe Nam Noy dam collapse. This generated awareness of the far-reaching devastation caused by the incident, and helped to extend assistance to displaced villagers, even through NGO-government collaborations. Yet the limits for civil society were underscored in 2019 when a young woman from southern Laos, was arrested after she posted social media commentary critical of the government’s slow and inadequate response to flood-affected communities, among other matters.

    Similarly in Cambodia, social media and smartphones provide a vital means of connection for citizens who are affected by dams, as well as forest and land encroachments. Kuy Indigenous villagers in Prey Long, for example, have used communication technology to gather data and report on illegal logging, in a form of “geographic citizen science”. Five years ago, advocates in urban land disputes in Battambong also used social media to criticise the ruling elite and raise awareness of the rights of informal settlers. Yet government tolerance of such activities has declined, as signalled by the arrest of some young advocates working for the NGO Mother Nature in 2021, after their Facebook posts. Tellingly, Cambodia’s ruling party is allegedly in discussions with Chinese advisors over potential assistance to strengthen government control over its citizens’ use of social media.

    Second, we observe the potential of innovative and flexible networks, which are both formal and informal. As seen in Vietnam between 2013-2018, advocates for healthy rivers developed cross-sector relationships over time, in order to achieve their goals iteratively. This approach led to the government’s cancellation of the controversial Dong Nai dams in 2015, after challenges mounted by an influential network that included researchers, civil society, and sympathetic government officials. Local government officials can provide critical support in such cases, as they are often motivated by their own personal origins in or close social ties to communities impacted by environmental damage: a distinctive dynamic in the Vietnamese setting, where government power is more decentralised. Similar hybrid networks have also been crucial for defending rivers in Thailand.

    As political space contracts, we now see an increasing role for informal networks or coalitions, which adopt long-term and adaptive strategies. Being less visible means that these groups can be more nimble and flexible; they can avoid direct conflict; and they can even foster conversations with government officials or other powerful actors. This may involve the pursuit of narrowed or less radical conversations in the short term, as currently seen in Laos and Vietnam, where civil society organisations have settled for government engagements that involve neutral activities like service delivery, tree planting, or humanitarian relief. In such contexts, change can only be incremental. Yet, while tinkering around the edges of trouble, advocates can gradually build skills, trust, capacities, and room to manoeuvre.

    Third, and finally, we observe agency in the production of knowledge, especially when this is driven by local villagers and their agendas. In Thailand, for example, co-producing knowledge has become a way to “fight back” against oppression, and to gain recognition for local perspectives and experiences of environmental change. This has been made famous in the method of Tai Baan research which is now providing regional inspiration: Tai Baan is a highly collaborative knowledge-making strategy that was developed in 2000 with villagers in Pak Mun, Thailand, as a way to document and communicate their experiences of a hydropower dam. A key achievement of this “knowledge advocacy” was to ensure that government officials heard villagers’ voices.

    Participatory action research of this kind was also deployed around Cambodia’s Lower Sesan II dam which became operational in 2018. Oxfam, for example, trained women in water monitoring, which enabled them to lobby local authorities to address contaminated water in relocated villages. International NGOs also worked with local networks to support Indigenous communities in the dam-affected area to map and seek recognition of their traditional territories—a strategy that has strengthened local voices and identities, albeit not without challenges. Ultimately, this work helped to empower some Indigenous Bunong families to refuse forced relocation by the government, so that they could remain on their customary lands.

    Rupture and the Mekong’s New Environmental Politics

    It is now abundantly clear that “environmental issues are not just environmental issues in the Mekong region”, as one member of our group noted. To illustrate this, we have shared our observations of increased government controls on civil society in relation to hydropower dams, as well as in wider natural resource management and land contests in urban and rural areas.

    Our findings show how the environmental frame acts as a window into the production of political space in the Mekong region today—and the results are sobering. While authorities have long considered the words “activist” and “human rights” to be highly provocative, our observations show how the envelope of provocation has widened. Criticism is barely tolerated, and government intimidation of civil society is manifesting across various scales and circumstances: from the arrests of rural villagers involved in isolated land disputes, to the silencing of NGO workers engaged in efforts to regulate and bring transparency to international markets. This new environmental politics is, if nothing else, “complex, nonlinear and undetermined”.

    For local civil society advocates seeking social and environmental justice, it is now hard to think in terms of success or failure: they recognise that they are engaged in a long-term struggle. Windows of opportunity may emerge, but they are often narrow and fleeting. This means that many advocates and ordinary citizens are facing exhaustion, and emotions are running high.

    Tragically too, the urgency of environmental decline and dispossession in many settings does not allow for advocates to “play the long game” on civil society and human rights in the region: many citizens are now faced with an emotional, political and material-environmental squeeze. This resonates with Saidiya Hartman’s “politics in a lower frequency”, whereby operating in highly dominated and violent spaces calls for “local, multiple, and dispersed sites of resilience”.

    Ultimately, we find some hope in the Mekong region’s “low frequency politics”, in which unexpected coalitions or unusual collaborations show promise. We have now seen how knowledge advocacy and communications through social media can be mobilised for change. Yet caution is required: donors and international partners need to be aware of the new political contours of civil society in the region, especially the potential risks of doing “political work” for local citizens and collaborators.

    The post Civil society in the Mekong: What can we learn from environmental struggles? appeared first on New Mandala.

    This post was originally published on New Mandala.

  • Laos is an information “black hole” where the government exerts complete control over news outlets, Reporters Without Borders’ (RSF) said in its 2022 World Press Freedom Index this week that ranks the Southeast Asian country near the bottom of its list in terms of allowing journalists to challenge authorities.

    Laos placed 161st out of of 180 countries in the index, a slight improvement over 2021, when it was ranked 172nd. But the index still painted a dismal picture of press freedom in Laos, a finding that local reporters and citizens backed up in interviews with RFA this week.

    “The government essentially controls all press. Laos’ 24 newspapers, 32 television networks and 44 radio stations are required to follow the party line dictated by the Peoples’ Propaganda Commissariat, which is disseminated by the three dailies that the ruling party publishes,” the index, released this week, said.

    “The Lao Popular Revolutionary Party (LPRP) keeps the press under close surveillance and makes the creation of independent media impossible. The circle of cronies at the heart of the system, in many cases descendants of the old aristocracy, keep a lock on information,” the report said.

    Laos’ guarantee of freedom of expression is undone by laws prohibiting media outlets from harming the “national interest” or “traditional culture.”

    “The penal code provides for imprisonment of journalists who criticize the government, a provision extended in 2014 to internet users. Internet service providers are required to report web users’ names, professions and data search histories to the authorities,” the index said.

    The small boost in the rankings was likely due to more reporting on drugs and corruption, a former reporter for Lao state media told RFA’s Lao Service on condition of anonymity for safety reasons.

    “In March this year, a drug lord, Sisouk Daoheuang, was sentenced to death for drug trafficking and smuggling. State media also report some more details like the number of corrupt officials who have been disciplined, dismissed and charged,” the former reporter said.

    But one current reporter who is an employee of the Information, Culture and Tourism Department of Savannakhet Province told RFA’s Lao Service that journalists’ work is still restricted.

    “Despite improvement in ranking, we in the Lao media still don’t have much press freedom. There are no independent news outlets. All the news agencies belong to government and are controlled by government,” the reporter said.

    “We’re all members of the state media and we’re not independent and there is no variety of news in Laos. So, our reporting is restricted especially when reporting about corruption of the Party members and government officials. We can’t be critical to the Party and government at all. Even reporting on social media is restricted,” said the source.

    Reporters must run their stories by their department directors before they are published and they cannot cover any events without permission from at least the head of the department, the reporter said.

    Another reporter in the capital Vientiane told RFA that no media outlet there is free or independent.

    “If we’re told to cover that event, we’ll go and do it. They’ll tell us whether we can or can’t go and we must follow government policy. We only report what is approved and permitted by the authorities,” the Vientiane reporter said.

    “Sometimes, we know that what we are reporting is not true, but we can’t do anything about it. For example, we know that those government officials in that ministry are corrupt and are embezzling state money, but we can’t report that. We can’t report any news that the government considers as dangerous to the national security, the political process or is too critical of the leaders,” said the Vientiane reporter.

    Another problem with freedom of the press is that too many people are afraid to speak the truth, a resident of the southern province of Savannakhet told RFA.

    “If we speak out we’ll be thrown in jail. In this country, if someone tries to speak the truth, they will end up missing like Mouay,” the resident said.

    Houayheuang Xayabouly, better known by her nickname Mouay, was arrested Sept. 12, 2019, a week after she published videos critical about the government’s inability to rescue people from flooding in the country’s southern Champassak and Salavan provinces. The delayed government response had left many Lao villagers stranded and cut off from help, she said in the video, which was viewed more than 150,000 times.

    “She criticized the government, and actually what she said was true, but now she’s in jail for five years. People outside the country can speak out, but no one inside can. The people of Laos are afraid and worried, even when they express themselves on social media,” said the resident.

    A resident of Vientiane province told RFA that people can get in trouble for complaining about their lives.

    “The government will suppress you right away before you can do more harm. It’s like they’ll put out the fire before it spreads. Even if you escape to Thailand, the government will get you. That’s why many people here don’t get involved in politics,” the Vientiane province resident said.

    An aid worker in Laos told RFA that social media has in some ways given people more of a voice, as it provides more access with less restrictions than traditional media like radio, television and newspapers.

    “More and more Laotians are hungry for information and they turn to social media for it. The trend will continue because Laotians can express themselves more on social media. They want to vent their frustration because the government can’t do anything to solve the problems like the crumbling economy and financial crisis.”

    The number of social media users among Laos’ population of 7 million people increased to 51% this year, up from 49% last year and from 43% year before, data from statista.com shows.

    “Social media is a voice and a tool of people. When they see an official doing something wrong or judges making an unfair decision, they can post their comments online,” a businessman in Laos told RFA.

    “Then either the police or the court can come out and give explanation to the public. That’s a good thing. We know that state media is not reliable. Only those who are 55 years old or older follow the state media. While younger folks follow Thai media, which is much more interesting.”

    Translated by Max Avary. Written in English by Eugene Whong.

    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA’s Lao Service.

  • Almost 70 percent of businesses that applied for registrations, licenses and permits in Laos paid bribes to government officials to get approval, a report by the Asian Development Bank (ADB) said.

    The report on the cost of doing business in Laos drew responses from 1,357 respondents, 68 percent of whom said that so-called “informal payments” were necessary for smooth and efficient business operations. ADB, which is based in Manila, provides loans, grants and other financial assistance to projects that promote growth in Asian countries and reduce extreme poverty in the region.

    “The informal charges must be paid for everything … because the access to the officials and the system they control is difficult, and the system is slow to adopt technology,” an employee at the ADB office in Laos, who requested anonymity for safety reasons, told RFA’s Lao Service Thursday.

    “It’s going to take some time to update the rules, amend the laws and improve the behavior of officials. The Lao government should develop human resources by upgrading their skills and knowledge, but it is more important that they are more transparent,” the ADB official said.

    Paying the bribe to get things done is sometimes easier than doing business by the book, an owner of a bar and restaurant in the historic town of Luang Prabang in northern Laos told RFA.

    “Paying kickbacks is widespread in Laos. They do it in every district and in every province because the process of obtaining license or permit in this country is very complex, bureaucratic and time consuming,” said the owner, who declined to be named.

    “In my case, I knew somebody in the provincial business registration office. They came by and inspected my facility first before I could register my business. You have to know somebody in the office, if not, it’s going to be difficult to get registered,” he said.

    Connections and money are integral to doing business in Laos, the owner of a Luang Prabang car rental company told RFA.

    “If you try to do it yourself, you’ll find a lot of trouble. But if you have a link or a connection in the office, it’ll be much easier because you and your connection can talk and compromise, of course, with the appropriate amount of money under the table,” he said.

    “With the appropriate amount, a process that normally takes three months takes only three weeks. In my case, I paid the appropriate amount to an acquaintance outside of his office after work hours,” the car rental owner said.

    Lao governmental paperwork is overly complicated, the owner of another business told RFA.

    “When I submit an application form for a permit, I can say to an official, ‘Please look at this application form. When it’s done, I’ll buy you a beer or two.’ Then I give him 300,000 kip ($25), the cost of one or two beers, for his service,” the source said.

    A Lao economist told RFA that the report did not uncover anything out of the ordinary.

    “For many people who don’t know about Laos, the ADB report looks negative. But for those who are used to it, kickbacks are normal because this kind of practice is a problem in every country in the world,” the economist said on condition of anonymity for safety reasons.

    “For example, when officials perform inspections for safety, labor practices or environmental impact of a factory, the factory owner would have to pay the inspectors cash and never receive a bill or receipt. The inspectors put the money in their pockets. The money is not a fee charged by the government,” he said, adding that foreign investors might not want to do business under that type of system.

    “For investors who are already here, the extra expenses in the form of kickbacks add up and increase the cost of doing business.”

    Solutions

    Kickbacks are often necessary because officials depend on them for much of their income, an official of the Lao Finance Ministry told RFA.

    “They take the kickbacks to make a living. I cannot deny that,” he said. “It’s getting worse in the current economic situation. The government is tackling this practice head-on in hopes of reducing it little by little.”

    The Lao Chamber of Industry and Commerce suggested in the ADB report that the government should step up training for its employees and switch from a system requiring person-to-person contact to an online processing method.

    In Transparency International’s 2021 Corruption Perceptions Index, which measures public sector corruption on a scale of 0 (“highly corrupt”) to 100 (“very clean”), Laos received a score of 30, placing it in 128th place among 180 countries.

    The least corrupt countries were New Zealand, Denmark, and Finland, each with score of 88, while the most corrupt was South Sudan, with a score of 11.

    Translated by Max Avary. Written in English by Eugene Whong.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA’s Lao Service.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Retired nurse/nurse practitioner Arlys Herem knew she wanted to be a nurse since she was in the sixth grade. What she didn’t know was that she would  spend most of her career in other countries caring for the disenfranchised, educating medical personnel, promoting peace and advocating for veteran care when she retired.

    Arlys joined the service when she was 17 to “get out of Milwaukee” and take advantage of a scholarship offered by the Army Nurse Corp. She trained at Walter Reed National Army Medical Center in Washington DC and received a BSN from the University of Maryland.

    As an Army nurse she flew to Vietnam and worked for 13 months in Phu Bai, Pleiku, Bin Thuoy and Saigon between 1971-72. Most of her patients didn’t require combat-related care apart from those who caught diseases or experienced psychological trauma. She did mention a helicopter pilot with a serious chest wound who received 11 units of blood and survived.

    From there, she seesawed across the ocean between Asian Refugee camps and American hospitals for most of her career with pit stops on a Navajo Indian Reservation near Monument Valley and a Mayan village in Belize where she landed after joining the Peace Corps in 1978. “I would know what to do next when it would come along” she said about her decision to join the Peace Corps in the middle of a Scrabble game while talking with her friend Connie.

    After working two stints at Cambodian refugee camps during the 80’s, she hooked up with the American Refugee Committee (ARC) in 1993 and returned to Asia to work 25 more years in Cambodia. She spent the first six years at a hospital in NW Cambodia where she said the Pol Pot regime left the area “incredibly devastated — rubble everywhere, no books or curricula, institutions demolished.”

    A colleague recalled working with Aryls at a Cambodian refugee camp on the Thai/Cambodian border beginning in 1986.

    Aryls and I were teachers in the camp health training school and shared a house there for 3 years. My main impression of her is that she is an eminently practical optimist who finds creative ways to manage challenges–of which there were many in a camp with a thatch-roofed, dirt floor hospital. She worked with refugees whose educations were cut short by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge– yet they learned enough to provide good care even in the midst of malaria and cholera outbreaks. The many students trained in camp schools went on to jobs with the U.N. after repatriation and were influential in rebuilding their shattered country. Arlys gave many of them the foundation for their future work. After that, she moved to Cambodia and helped local people set up a care network for HIV/AIDS patients. That was 22 years ago. The group has since continued to expand their scope by supporting volunteers who teach about living with HIV as well as organizing associations in the district that support the elderly and educate them on managing common chronic diseases such as hypertension. The impact for good she has had on many, many lives is immeasurable. I greatly admire her and am so fortunate to have such an extraordinary friend.

    — Deb Webber

    In 1995 she participated in the eight-month Peace Walk from Auschwitz to Hiroshima when it passed through Cambodia and began networking more with spiritual leaders, ex-pats, war resisters and inter-religious peace workers from nearby countries. Five years later when the AIDS epidemic reached Cambodia, she founded a local NGO called Dhammayietra Mongkol Borei (peace walks and ease suffering) to expand education/care and raise social awareness through non-violent efforts. The NGO is still operating.

    She was beginning to enjoy teaching more too. “I think people need to see something grow, I really do…it’s part of us: Gardens, kids, watching people get better at doing something, training volunteers, teaching barefoot doctors.” Strong relationships she formed with people while working in Asia including Khmers, prompted her to retire in Minneapolis after many of them moved to Minnesota. When she felt “it was time to come home” in 2017, she flew back to Minnesota to be with her friends.

    Three years later she joined Veterans For Peace (VFP) in the Twin Cities and soon teamed up with VFP member Jeff Roy and David Cooley to help organize a nationwide effort called SOVA (Save Our VA) to bring awareness to a recent bipartisan trend that seeks to further privatize veteran health care. Cooley had already been working nationally and leading the local chapter 27 SOVA committee.

    Jeff Roy wrote:

    Arlys is a very talented and detail-oriented activist with a big heart for others in her political work and otherwise. With her many years working in Cambodia and after her time in Vietnam, she seemed to develop a passion for and deep skills with collecting and organizing information critical to the effectiveness of nonprofits. As a key member of SOVA and its Steering Committee, she outdoes herself regularly in her ability to help other members have easy access to critical SOVA Campaign data that she’s helped sort out and store in Google docs. Finally, she’s a key organizer in Minneapolis, turning out with VFP members and other activists to attend our monthly SOVA demonstrations at the VA…sometimes in very crummy weather. We’re all fortunate to have her!

    While the VA has always farmed out medical services it couldn’t provide, the VA Mission Act signed by President Trump in 2018 called for expanding non-VA care based largely on accessibility and drive times to and from care centers. SOVA though, argues that the new Mission Act “Community Care Network” (CCN) may provide more convenience for some, but it diminishes the integrated and specialized care veterans are used to receiving at VA facilities.

    “I feel respected and the staff seems more personal” said Arlys about the care she gets at the VA. Adding that the VA has become more holistic and community oriented in their public health approach by offering alternatives to conventional care and helping veterans with homelessness, legal problems or readjusting to civilian life. She also likes the idea of having so many medical specialties and social services in one place with VA representatives on hand to investigate patient complaints about medical care.

    She mentioned that a number of studies have shown that VA medical care is just as good or better than care in the private sector. A 2020 Stanford University study confirms this, noting that veterans receiving care at the VA (even though vets generally have worse underlying health problems than non-veterans) usually survive medical emergencies better than those receiving private care — and at a lower cost.

    Moreover, the VA has a longstanding reputation of being a teaching and research center for healthcare professionals. At least 70% of American physicians have received some training at a VA facility and she pointed out that the VA’s Million Veteran Program has the world’s largest genomic database. Some of the VA’s contributions to medicine include implantable cardiac pacemakers, a shingles vaccine and the Nicotine Patch.

    Other concerns of hers raise questions about the competency of non-VA medical personnel who are inexperienced in spotting symptoms from military-related traumas, chemical exposures or burn pits. Also, cynical and dishonest attacks on VA care from right-wingers including the Koch Brothers, keep groups like SOVA and the Veterans Healthcare Policy Institute busy doing research so spurious accusations can be refuted. Not up for debate is a massive increase in fraudulent billing since the push for privatization began a few years ago.

    Her efforts with lobbing are starting to pay off. A number of representatives have already signed on to legislation that would automatically enroll veterans in the VA health care system after being discharged from the service. Sometimes a congressional staffer will call her to keep apprised on veterans issues. “It’s good to get know the staff” she said.

    As of February 18, 2022 Aryls has crocheted 300 hats for the poor. It seems even in her spare time she practices the four-word mantra printed on her front doormat: BE KIND DO GOOD.

    Bruce Carruthers (left), Arlys Herem and Jeff Roy meet with Rep. Watkin’s staff to advocate for VA care.

    Arlys Herem and co-worker at a Saigon hospital.

    Arlys Herem on the job near the Minneapolis VA.

    The post Former Vietnam Army Nurse Fights To Stop The Privatization Of VA Healthcare first appeared on Dissident Voice.

    This post was originally published on Dissident Voice.

  • Long lines of trucks have formed at the Chinese borders of Laos and Myanmar, held up by China’s restriction of imports in an effort to prevent more coronavirus outbreaks, sources in both Southeast Asian countries told RFA.

    In Myanmar’s eastern border town of Muse, exports to China of seven types of goods — including rice, chilies and eels — have been suspended since March 15, resulting in a backup of more than 70 trucks, border traders there told RFA’s Myanmar Service.

    “From the very beginning, it has been very difficult to trade with the Chinese side because of the high cost and the frequent changes in the system,” Than Bo Oo, general secretary of the Muse Rice Commodity Exchange, told RFA. “Lately, most of the goods being moved are those left over from recent months. No new shipments have come from the mainland.”

    “We are still adjusting to the system changes. The cost of shipping from the border now seems higher than the cost of shipping on the seas,” he said.

    Some of the trucks have opted to unload their cargo into warehouses along the Muse border rather than wait around for China to ease the restrictions, he said.

    Prior to the coronavirus pandemic, border traders were able to export 40,000 to 60,000 bags of rice a day. Prior to last week’s restrictions, only two or three 12-wheelers with 50 tons of rice could get into China each day, the traders told RFA. Now none are crossing.

    Fisheries products are now being sent to China through the air because the land route is inaccessible, Tai Kyaw said.

    Khun Min Thant blamed China’s policy of delegating responsibility for local COVID-19 policies for the back-up at the border. He said that local Chinese officials in areas near the Myanmar are quick to stop imports to show they are trying to respond to outbreaks. They worry that doing nothing would put their jobs in jeopardy.

    “Two mayors already lost their positions in Ruili in connection with COVID surges. So if only one or two people are found infected, they order a complete lockdown,” Khun Min Thant said “Under these circumstances, our losses will continue.

    More than 200 trucks have been stopped at the border by Chinese authorities in Kachin State, just north of Muse.

    The recurring opening and closing of the border since trade officially resumed in November last year has been a headache for Myanmar traders. RFA reported in January that after an abrupt closing, trucks carrying watermelons decided to dump their cargo near the border rather than wait around for the fruit to spoil.

    China is fighting its worst COVID-19 outbreak since the Wuhan mass infections at the start of the pandemic, with authorities struggling to contain the highly contagious omicron variant under the Chinese Communist Party’s controversial “dynamic zero-COVID” policy.

    An estimated 50 million people had been placed under lockdown in various cities and districts across the country as of last week.

    Figures for lockdowns in Yunnan, the Chinese province bordering Laos and Myanmar, were not immediately available. But local media said Chinese authorities closed a fruit market in the border town of Ruili after a cluster of transmissions was reported on March 8.

    Thaung Naing, an assistant secretary at the Ministry of Commerce, told RFA that officials with the ruling military junta are working to get China to lift the various restrictions on Myanmar goods.

    RFA attempted to contact the Chinese embassy in Yangon but received no response.

    According to figures from the Myanmar Ministry of Commerce, cross-border trade between Myanmar and China totaled $5.47 billion for 2020. But it slumped to only $3.13 billion last year.

    Laos’ logjam

    The backup of trucks at the Chinese border in Laos remains agonizingly long for drivers trying to get their goods into China, with disputes over access spilling into fistfights between Lao and Chinese truckers. Even as trade between the countries resumed, China imposed a number of precautions to prevent the spread of coronavirus, including reducing the number of trucks that can cross over the border gate at Boten.

    “It’s been a parking lot from Nampheng Village all the way to the Boten border gate for almost six months now,” a Lao truck driver told RFA’s Lao Service, describing a backup of about 25 miles.

    “It takes us more than 14 days to get to our destination in China,” he said.

    Another trucker told RFA that the authorities must solve the congestion at the border soon, because most of the trucks are carrying produce.

    “Some products have an expiration date, and they won’t be accepted by the Chinese. For example, vegetables, watermelons, bananas and chilies are quickly perishable. The dry produce like corn and cassava is OK though,” he said.

    But a Lao customs official at the Boten gate told RFA that traffic at the border has improved, due to the reopening of another gate in a different province.

    The recently opened $6 billion Lao-China Railway should help alleviate the border backup by reducing demand for truck freight. But most Lao goods cannot be shipped to China along the high-speed rail connecting the Lao capital Vientiane to China’s rail network, a Lao import-export expert who requested anonymity for safety reasons, told RFA.

    “Only the Chinese goods are coming to Laos [via train]. We have to wait until the Lao goods are allowed,” he said.

    Lao minerals, cassava and cassava powder are allowed in the cargo bays on the train, he said.

    For those whose goods are in the clear, the railway has been great for business, a mineral exports worker told RFA.

    “We ship our on the train to China every day,” he said. “We ship the freight in containers it takes no more than 30 hours to reach the destination. We’ve all switched to the railway to ship our products because it’s faster and cheaper.”

    An official of the Lao Ministry of Industry and Trade explained that Laos was negotiating with China to open train freight to more types of Lao products.

    “Of course, we want to ship more goods, especially agricultural products such as vegetables, bananas, watermelons and rubber by train to China. We don’t know how long the negotiation will last or when it will end,” the official said.

    The Vientiane Times reported this week that the Lao government has promised to get more investment from China in an effort to boost exports.

    Key to their strategy will be making the train available to Lao goods headed for China. The report said in the railway’s first 100 days, more than 360 cross-border trains transported 280,000 tons of freight to Laos, Cambodia, Myanmar, Vietnam, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore and Bangladesh.

    Translated by Khin Maung Nyane and Max Avary. Written in English by Eugene Whong. 


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by By RFA’s Myanmar and Lao Services.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Laos is set to sign agreements with Thailand to sell electricity from three dams being built on the Mekong River, despite opposition to the projects’ construction voiced by villagers and NGOs, according to Lao and Thai sources.

    The agreements between the two countries name the Luang Prabang Dam, Pak Beng Dam and Pak Lay Dam, all in northern Laos, as the power sources, sources say.

    “All of these projects are moving forward,” an official of the Lao Ministry of Energy and Mines told RFA on Thursday, speaking on condition of anonymity for security reasons. “The dam developers are ready to begin construction of those dams as soon as the power purchase agreements are signed.”

    The agreements between Laos and Thailand are scheduled to be signed in May this year, according to a March 15 report in the Bangkok Post.

    Developers of the Pak Beng Dam are now making changes to the dam’s design, however, and the Lao government has not yet finished a Heritage Impact Assessment (HIA) required for the Luang Prabang Dam by UNESCO, RFA’s ministry source said.

    Developers will provide missing or incomplete documents if work on any project is delayed, the official said. “And the Thai side will then decide when and which dam will enter their market.”

    Speaking to RFA this week, Lao villagers and NGO representatives in Thailand reiterated their opposition to the proposed dams, pointing to negative effects on the region’s ecosystem and the planned displacement of thousands of villagers living downstream.

    “People here are opposed to the dams, especially the large dams, said one villager living in Oudomxay province’s Pak Beng district near the site of the planned Pak Beng Dam. “They don’t want the dams because they are the ones who will be affected.

    “However, here in Laos they just discuss their opposition among themselves and not with the authorities,” the villager said, speaking like RFA’s other sources in Laos on condition of anonymity.

    “There will be too many damaging impacts,” agreed a villager living near the Luang Prabang Dam site in Luang Prabang province’s Chomphet district. “Most villagers here don’t want this dam to be built, because the Mekong River is the main source of food for their families. If this dam is built, all our fish will disappear.”

    Hannarong Yaowalerd, chairman of the Foundation for Sustainable Water Management in Thailand, said that Thailand should wait for more studies to be completed before signing deals allowing the proposed dams to begin operations.

    “The Pak Beng Dam needs to be technically improved,” he said. “And as for the Luang Prabang Dam, the most concerning issue now is the impact it may have on Luang Prabang Town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. We don’t need to sign the agreements now.”

    The Thai government is now pushing for the agreements to be signed because it wants to satisfy the interests of the dams’ developers, Yaowalerd said.

    ‘Not listening to concerns’

    A representative of the Love Chiang Khong Group, a Thai NGO in Chiang Rai province bordering Laos, meanwhile said the Thai government is refusing to listen to the concerns of Thai people likely to be affected by the dams.

    “They don’t care about cultural, historical or heritage sites. They also won’t care about damage to the ecosystem,” he said, also declining to be named. “The Mekong River is common property. Everyone depends on it.

    “The government’s Procedure for Notification, Prior Consultation and Agreement (PNPCA) is only ceremonial and meaningless,” he added.

    According to the website of the Mekong River Commission (MRC), a multi-nation group monitoring water flows and other conditions on the river, the Luang Prabang Dam built in Luang Prabang’s Chomphet district by Thailand’s Xayaburi Power Company and PetroVietnam Power, will cost $3 billion and displace 2,285 villagers.

    Construction of ports, a workers’ camp, power lines and water supply for the project are now complete, “and all heavy equipment has been brought in and an access road now 80 percent finished,” a Chomphet district official told RFA on Friday.

    The Pak Beng Dam, built by China Datang Overseas Investment, will cost $2.4 billion and affect 5,726 villagers, according to the MRC. An access road to the dam’s work site is now also in place, an official of Pak Beng district in Oudomxay province said.

    And the Pak Lay Dam, built in Xayaburi province by Gulf Energy Development and a Chinese state enterprise, Power China Resources Ltd., will cost $2.13 billion and affect 4,800 villagers in the province. “A road, power line, water supply and workers’ camp are now 80 percent complete, and some heavy equipment is now in place,” a district official said.

    Laos has staked its future on power generation in a controversial bid to become the “Battery of Southeast Asia,” exporting electricity from more than 50 large and small-scale dams on the Mekong River and its tributaries.

    Though the Lao government sees power generation as a way to boost the country’s economy, the projects have faced criticism because of their environmental impact, displacement of villagers and questionable arrangements.

    Reported by RFA’s Lao Service. Translated by Max Avary. Written in English by Richard Finney.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by Radio Free Asia.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • More than 100 families in the Lao capital Vientiane are calling on authorities to investigate a sand dredging company after their activities in the Ngeum River allegedly caused landslides that damaged several houses, sources in the capital told RFA.

    Sand is a hot commodity in Southeast Asia, needed to support a booming construction industry. But digging it up from the bottoms of rivers can be disastrous for the environment, accelerating erosion and leading to landslides that destroy buildings near riverbanks.

    The families, from Thasommor village the city’s Xaythany district, say that the company has been taking the sand without reinforcing the riverbank.

    “There were some landslides near my mom’s plot of land because of the sand dredging,” a resident of the village told RFA’s Lao Service March 11. “The landslides even affected my brother’s house, which had to stop construction.”

    Residents of the village petitioned the authorities to rectify the problem in the past, but they say that they received no response. They say they desperately need an embankment to protect their land and homes along the Ngeum.

    Another villager told RFA that the problem with the company has been going on for years, with authorities never taking the villagers’ concerns seriously.

    A third villager said that although his house is not near the river, he frequently hears complaints from other villagers about landslides caused by dredging. He said that prior to the dredging, damage to homes from landslides never happened.

    “There is no embankment around here. It is a private company that does the dredging. The company may have a concession to operate like this, but I don’t know much about that,” he said.

    An official from Xaythany district’s Natural Resources and Environment office told RFA that if the Thasommor residents are experiencing damaged homes due to landslides, they should ask their village chief to write a letter to the office so that authorities can investigate.

    The Vientiane administrative office and Vientiane energy and mines sector have, however, not authorized any Lao company to operate a sand dredging business along the Ngeum, the official said. There is therefore no information regarding which company’s sand dredging ships are allegedly causing the problems, he said. The official added that frequent flooding in the country is the main cause of landslides.

    In order to prevent landslides along the Mekong River and its tributaries, the Ministry of Natural Resources and Environment said companies with sand dredging concessions can operate only seven months per year, from December through June. When the rainy season starts, all the companies must stop their work. But some companies do not follow these instructions, RFA has confirmed. 

    In 2018, the Ministry of Public Work and Transport and the Ministry of Natural Resources and Environment proposed that the Lao government stop issuing dredging concessions along the Mekong and its tributaries to Lao companies.

    Sand dredging is a problem in other riparian communities along the Mekong. RFA has reported on the environmental damage from dredging in Cambodia, Myanmar and Vietnam, in addition to Laos. Though the region’s governments have attempted to regulate the practice, high prices for sand fueled by high demand in places like Singapore often lead companies to ignore restrictions.

    Translated by Phouvong. Written in English by Eugene Whong.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by Radio Free Asia.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Thailand has agreed in principle to buy more electricity from Laos after the two Southeast Asian neighbors signed an agreement that expands energy cooperation between the two Mekong River neighbors.

    The memorandum of understanding, signed by both countries’ respective ministers of energy March 4, promotes clean energy, and creates more opportunities to invest in Laos’ energy sector, an official of the Lao Ministry of Energy and Mines told RFA’s Lao Service Monday.

    Laos has staked its future on power generation in a controversial bid to become “The Battery of Southeast Asia,” exporting electricity from more than 50 large and small-scale dams on the Mekong River and its tributaries.

    Selling the excess energy has been a problem for heavily indebted Laos, which has agreements to buy the power from the dams at a fixed rate, but sells it at market rates, which has been lower due to the coronavirus pandemic.

    Though the agreement paves the way for Thailand to purchase more power from Laos, prices still must be negotiated.

    “The next step will be for each dam developer to negotiate prices and a power purchase agreement directly with the buyer, Thailand,” the Lao energy official said on condition of anonymity for safety reasons.

    The energy official also said that Laos plans to build even more dams including at least five more on the Mekong River mainstream. Though he acknowledged that selling energy from the dams has been difficult recently as neighboring countries have their own power surpluses. Thailand, however, remains Laos’ largest market.

    Laos’ state-run power company Électricité du Laos (EDL) is optimistic about the deal, an EDL official told RFA.

    “Data shows that the Electricity Generating Authority of Thailand is the most reliable buyer of our power,” the EDL official said.

    Environmentalist opposition

    Thai environmental advocacy groups criticized the agreement, saying that it would promote more degradation of the Mekong River’s ecology and impact riparian communities.

     

    “It’s not fair. The Thai government claims that the economy will recover after the COVID-19 pandemic and electric vehicles will be on their way, so they are saying they will need more power. But that’s just what they claim,” Witoon Permpongsacharoen from the Mekong River Energy and Ecology Network in Thailand told RFA.

    “Laos on the other hand isn’t listening to any criticism. Its government always believes that building dams is the only way that they can develop the country, but that’s not always true,” Permpongsacharoen said.

    He pointed out that Thailand has a 41 percent surplus of power, and it doesn’t need more from Laos.

    “The Thai government made this decision only for the interest of the Thai investors. They don’t care about the environmental and social impact of this deal. They don’t care that the dams are going to make climate change worse and create more methane in our air,” he said.

    The move only helps dam developers, a member of the Love Chiang Khong Group, a Thai riparian activist organization told RFA.

    “We in this group have been aggressively opposed to all these dams. It’s clear that the investors who are going to build dams in Laos do not care about the people,” said the activist, who requested anonymity to speak freely.

    “We’re going to continue to fight against these dams and for the people, not to mention all the aquatic species and wildlife in the Mekong region,” the activist said.

    According to a report published by the Lao Ministry of Energy and Mines, Laos has contracts to sell power to most of its neighbors, with Thailand on the hook for 10,500 megawatts. Laos is projected to be able to produce as high as 28,000 megawatts by 2030.

    Laos has built dozens of hydropower dams on the Mekong River and its tributaries in pursuit of its controversial economic plans.

    Though the Lao government sees power generation as a means to boost the country’s economy, the projects have faced criticism because of their environmental impact, displacement of villagers and questionable financial arrangements.

    Translated by Max Avary. Written in English by Eugene Whong.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by Radio Free Asia.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Two years into the COVID-19 pandemic, Laos’ economic future looks precarious, bogged down by massive public debt and an economic strategy overly reliant on power generation.

    The World Bank reported in August 2021 that Laos’ public debt has climbed to U.S. $13.3 billion, or 72 percent of its gross domestic product. Most of the debt was incurred by the energy sector, with the state-owned Electricité du Laos (EDL), accounting for 36 percent.

    Laos has built dozens of hydropower dams on the Mekong and its tributaries and is building about 50 more under a plan to become the “Battery of Southeast Asia” and export the electricity they generate to other countries in the region, mainly Thailand.

    Additionally, Laos and China in December completed a $6 billion high-speed railway project linking the Lao capital Vientiane with China’s Yunnan province. Though Laos only has a 30 percent stake in the project, it still needed to borrow heavily from China to fund what it pledged to the project.

    The World Bank said Laos owes a total of $1.3 billion in debt service each year through 2025 and estimated that servicing the annual bill would reach 52.5 percent of public sector revenue in 2021, considered high for low-income countries. It noted that Laos’s obligations far exceed its reserves, recommending a shift in focus to “managing debt in a more sustainable and transparent manner.”

    Two international credit rating agencies in 2020, Moody’s and Fitch Ratings, downgraded Laos’ sovereign rating, meaning they believe the country has a high likelihood of defaulting.

    Fitch said in an August 2021 report that almost half of Laos’ external debt over the next few years must be paid to China. The two sides have worked together on the debt issue previously, with Laos asking for a debt suspension agreement, and the People’s Bank of China swapping yuan with the Bank of the Lao PDR in 2020 to help boost reserves of foreign currency, Fitch noted.

    At an October meeting of the Lao National Assembly, the minister of finance warned that interest payments will sharply increase over the next five years on public debt that stood at $13 billion in 2020.

    “The government will have to pay $414 million a year in interest alone, so we must tighten our belts,” Finance Minister Bounchom Oubonpaseuth said.

    Negotiating with China will be key to getting Laos out of its debt problems, and there are four possible options, a foreign journalist and analyst who has covered Laos extensively, told RFA’s Lao Service on condition of anonymity.

    “You can suspend … and give a longer time to pay the debt. They can cancel the debt. … They can ask Laos to settle for a foreign currency swap between the Bank of Laos and the People’s Bank of China. Or, China can loan money to Laos to pay the debt.”

    This map published by AFP shows the locations of hydropower projects in various stages of completion along the Mekong River. 

    EDL heavily indebted

    Chanthaboun Soukaloun, managing director of Electricité du Laos, told the annual general meeting on February 11 that EDL has been losing money for years and has accumulated $5 billion in debt. The loss is affecting EDL’s ability to repay its loans, the Lao government news agency, KPL reported.

    “The government has been aware of the debt. Everybody and every department of the government must help repay our debt, but we at the EDL don’t have money,” an EDL official, who requested for anonymity for safety reasons, told RFA Feb. 17.

    “The government knows that EDL owes a lot of money to EGAT (Electricity Generating Authority of Thailand), and that the EDL doesn’t have money to pay them back,” he said.

    The debt rose sharply over the past decade as EDL borrowed significant sums from foreign countries, especially Thailand and China, to build dams, install power lines and invest in other power related businesses.

    But some of the dams have not been productive due to a lack of water, while other dams with sufficient resources produce power that nobody is buying.

    The EDL has an obligation to purchase the electricity generated by the dams at high prices but must sell it at lower prices to companies in Thailand and China.

    Additionally, EDL owns only 10 of Laos’ 88 currently operational dams, while the rest belong to foreign investors, who sell the power they generate to EDL at high prices.

    Despite the excess electricity, power prices remain too high for many domestic customers to pay, which is why the company is losing money, the official said.

    The power business favors foreign investors, an official from the Ministry of Energy and Mines told RFA.

    “Of course, they pay all taxes and royalties to the government, but the government has huge expenses, such as paying out compensation” to people displaced by hydropower projects, the energy official said.

    Compensation for households, or even entire villages displaced by dams and infrastructure projects has been a source of friction for years. Many rural villagers have told RFA that the offered compensation is far below the value of the property they are giving up, and they trade fertile farm land for remote parcels of land with poor soil.

    For those that accept, the government sometimes struggles to pay out compensation in a timely manner, with relocated families waiting years for payment in some cases.

    In this March 2020 file photo, employees of the Électricité du Laos (EDL) work on a power line in Vientiane, Laos. Credit: Citizen Journalist

    Another problem for EDL is that it anticipated higher electricity prices when it signed agreements to buy electricity from the dam investors, with the eye of selling it for higher to its buyers.

    EDL is obligated to buy the electricity from most of the dam projects for $0.06 per kilowatt hour but currently can only sell it for $0.04 to companies in China’s Yunnan province or $0.05 to companies in Thailand.

    Many Lao citizens blame EDL’s problems on corruption, which has plagued the inner workings of Laos’ national and local governments for decades.

    Berlin-based Transparency International’s 2020 Corruption Perceptions Index ranked Laos 134 of 180 countries it evaluated in fighting corruption.

    Prime Minister Phankham Viphavanh pledged to stamp out corruption, bribery, fraud and other malfeasance by state officials in a speech to the Lao National Assembly in August, and in December, Laos stepped up the campaign against corruption by expelling corrupt officials from the Lao People’s Revolutionary Party, the country’s sole political party.

    Corruption is so pervasive in Laos that many of its citizens suspect it is the reason EDL is losing so much money.

    “EDL must inspect and closely monitor its employees at all levels, making sure that they don’t abuse power and seek personal financial gain,” a Lao businessman told RFA. “Widespread corruption leads to financial leaks and massive debts.”

    EDL must be reorganized, a resident of the southern province of Champassak, told RFA.

    “EDL’s employees and management team are running the company for their own benefit, not for the company or the state. First and foremost, actions for personal benefit must be stopped,” the Champassak resident said.

    A resident of the capital Vientiane slammed EDL’s lack of transparency.

    “There are no financial reports published. There must be a lot of corruption going on. That’s why the company is in such a big debt,” he said.

    An EDL affiliate in a letter last year asked several Thai companies for a longer grace period in repaying debt, due to the COVID-19 pandemic and rapid inflation.

    Prime Minister Phankham Viphavanh told the Lao National Meeting in November that the government was in the process of reforming several large state enterprises, including EDL, because of massive debt problems.

    Translated by Samean Yun. Written in English by Eugene Whong.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by Radio Free Asia.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.


  • This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by Radio Free Asia.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Twelve members of a Christian family in southern Laos were attacked and driven from their home this month by villagers angered by the group’s practice of a “foreign religion,” family members and other sources said.

    The attack was the latest in a string of similar assaults and legal moves against Christians in the one-party communist state with a mostly Buddhist population despite a national law protecting the free exercise of their faith.

    The Feb. 9 attack in Savannakhet province’s Dong Savanh village in which the family home was burned down followed an earlier attack on the funeral of the family’s father, his widow Seng Aloun — now the family head — told RFA on Monday.

    “My husband died on Dec. 4 last year, and we took his body to the village cemetery two days later, but the villagers wouldn’t allow us to bury him there. They struck his coffin with wooden sticks and hit my family members too,” she said.

    “Later, we buried my husband’s body on Dec. 7 in our own rice field. But the villagers then burned down my home on Feb. 9 and seized our rice field the next day. They just want to get rid of us.”

    The family had been evicted from their village once before in 2017, Seng Aloun said. “Village residents and local authorities don’t like us because we believe in Jesus Christ. They don’t want us here. They say they don’t like the religion of a foreign country.”

    Police from Savannakhet’s Phalanxay district came on Tuesday to where the family now stays with relatives to ask about the burning of the family’s home and seizure of their field, but also told Seng Aloun to remove social media posts and videos she had posted describing the incident and the earlier attack on her husband’s funeral, she said.

    A district official told RFA on Feb. 18 that Phalanxay authorities were aware of the incident and had set up a team to investigate. “But our initial information is that this is a personal conflict, not a religious one,” the official said, speaking on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to discuss the case.

    “We are now looking for the person or persons who burned the family’s home, even if they are authorities in the village. Whoever did the burning will be punished according to the law,” he added.

    ‘They really don’t like us’

    Other Christians living in Savannakhet voiced concern over the treatment of Seng Aroun and her family, noting that the Dong Savanh village chief had joined in the Dec. 6 attack on her husband’s funeral, leaving two family members injured.

    “Where are the authorities? Where are the police?” the province resident asked. “They should be helping the family. The family is now living with relatives and want their land back so that they can work on it,” he said.

    “They really don’t like us,” another local Christian added.

    “For example, if we go to village authorities and ask them to sign a document, they turn their back on us and won’t do it. The police always side with village authorities and other villagers too, so we have nowhere else to turn for help,” he said.

    Other conflicts unresolved

    Similar conflicts in other Lao villages, districts and provinces have gone unresolved, a member of the country’s Evangelical Church added, saying that local authorities won’t tolerate other religions in their largely Buddhist and animist communities.

    In October 2020, authorities in Saravan province’s Ta Oy district, in the country’s south, evicted seven Christians and destroyed their homes when they would not renounce their faith.

    In March that year, Pastor Sithon Thippavong, a Lao Christian leader in Savannakhet’s Chonnabouly district, was arrested for refusing to sign a document renouncing his Christian faith and was later jailed for a year on charges of “disrupting unity” and “creating disorder.”

    Two years earlier, four Lao Christians and three Christian leaders were detained for seven days in Savannakhet’s Phin district for celebrating Christmas without permission.

    Lao Christians are allowed by the country’s Law on the Evangelical Church, approved and signed in Laos on Dec. 19, 2019, to conduct services and preach throughout the country and to maintain contacts with believers in other countries.

    But in practice, the law appears to apply only in the capital Vientiane and in other large cities, while Christians in the rural areas remain subject to disrespect by the general public and discrimination at the hands of local authorities, sources say.

    Reported by RFA’s Lao Service. Translated by Max Avary. Written in English by Richard Finney.


    This content originally appeared on Radio Free Asia and was authored by Radio Free Asia.

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  • Can we consider economic and financial ruptures, in addition to (or as an outcome of) nature-society ruptures? Along with a number of other countries who have embarked upon infrastructure and resource mega-projects under China’s Belt & Road Initiative, the Southeast Asian country of Laos is now experiencing sovereign debt distress. This has been unexpected for a country that enjoyed 7.5% average annual GDP growth from 2004-2018. How specifically has Laos found itself in such a financial predicament, what does it have to do with the country’s large investments in hydropower and railway infrastructure?

    Our 2021 paper published in Asia & the Pacific Policy Studies attempted to shed light on this question. We placed major resource and infrastructure lending from China at the centre of the story.

    To recap, sovereign debt dynamics exacted a steep cost on the Lao economy in 2021. Laos’ sovereign rating with Moody’s sits at a “Caa2” with a negative outlook, with Fitch similarly at CCC, both firmly within the sub-prime / speculative category. Lao public debt reached $13.3 billion (72% of  GDP in 2020), while debt servicing costs were at an alarming 52% of public sector revenues in 2021. With an average of US $1.3 billion in debt repayments coming due each year between 2021-25, and foreign currency reserves around that same level, the Bank of Laos has had to scramble to roll over maturing debt, even as this becomes more difficult with credit downgrades.

    Commentators have focused on the $5.9 billion Lao-China Railway project in the Governmenrt of Laos’ (GoL) debt conundrum. However Laos’ contribution to this project may be relatively contained. The GoL injected US$250 million in equity financing from the national budget over 5 years, and secured a $480 million low interest loan from China’s Export-Import Bank for the remainder. While there may be future contingent liabilities if the project is unprofitable, the railway itself (which started operations in December) does not seem to be the most important current driver of Laos’ elevated debt burden.

    Our analysis focused more squarely on a key state-owned enterprise—Electricite du Laos. Over the last decade, aided by Chinese lending, EdL has amassed a very significant debt load, reportedly around US$5 billion, with potential further contingent liabilities. In particular we examined EdL-backed hydropower projects targetting the domestic energy market and national electricity grid expansion as a key source of debt vulnerability.

    The first key point is that EdL’s power demand forecasts overshot by up to 50% of the wet season reserve margin. From 2011-2015 EdL signed a large number of Power Purchase Agreements with investors, and then from 2016 developed a series of major dam projects targeting the domestic market.  However major new industrial projects and SEZs have either been delayed or have not fully materialized, leaving expensive hydro-electric facilities sitting idle.

    Second, we document how EdL signed “take-or-pay” power purchase agreements (PPAs) with numerous Independent Power Producers. EdL extended contractual guarantees that they would serve as the electricity offtaker, whether or not there was demand for the power output. While take-or-pay contracts are common in the industry, by signing so many of these deals EdL exposed itself to financial risk through contingent liabilities. In short, EdL is in way over its head with PPAs, many with Chinese investors, and this overcapacity is set to persist for years into the future.

    A third issue is Laos’ unfinished domestic transmission grid, which means that excess domestic power capacity, for example as produced from the $2.7 billion Nam Ou Cascade of 7 dams in northern Laos, cannot currently be re-routed to Vientiane Capital, the major load centre. The Nam Ou Cascade Phases 1 and 2, completed in 2015 and 2021, and led by PowerChina, involves loans from China Development Bank, and turnkey Engineering-Procurement-Construction (EPC) contracts with Sino-Hydro, under the auspices of the Belt and Road Initiative. While EdL holds only a 15% equity share in the Nam Ou Cascade, there are indications that the “take or pay” provisions extended to PowerChina has required EdL to reduce power generation from some of their own fully state-owned dams in order to avoid contract penalties with PowerChina. The prevalent use of EPC contracts in other China- linked electricity infrastructure, which recycle China policy bank loans back to Chinese construction enterprises, has also led to inflated cost structures for different power sector projects in Laos.

    A fourth point relates to seasonal supply-demand swings. In Laos’ hot-dry season, hydropower facilities operate at reduced capacity, while domestic electricity demand peaks, especially driven by increased air conditioning usage. Because of the unfinished domestic transmission grid, during this season EdL is often required to import electricity from Thailand. Yet the price Laos pays for those electricity imports has been double (US 11 cents/kWh) the initial export selling price (US 5-6 cents/kWh). Moves by EdL to increase domestic electricity tariffs to help cover this gap have been met with popular discontent amongst urban classes and from other ministries, and the GoL rescinded the price hikes.

    Then there are the regional interests. Almost all of the Independant Power Producer dam projects targeting the Lao domestic market since 2016 have been funded by the China Development Bank. However Thailand and Vietnam have shown little interest in signing PPAs for projects in Laos in which their own construction firms or financial institutions are not involved. With EdL’s elevated debt burden, there was little scope to raise the estimated US $2 billion required to complete the domestic transmission grid and to thereby find new offtakers for surplus power.

    Enter Laos’ newest state enterprise, Electricite du Laos Transmission Company (EdL-T), spun off from EdL, and a new financial backer, in the form of China Southern Power Grid Company (CSG). In September 2020, CSG agreed to a 90% shareholding in EdL-T, an apparent debt for equity swap, with the promise to complete the national high voltage power grid and turn around the fortunes of Laos’ teetering state-owned electricity champion. National and regional energy security issues lurk in the background to this deal.

    The high price of Chinese hydropower

    Lack of governance leads to costly social and environmental impacts.

    More pieces may be yet to fall. The COVID crisis has hit Laos hard in 2021, with extended lockdowns in urban areas, and a collapse in tourism revenues. With large debt repayments coming due in the second half of 2021, the Bank of Laos has had difficulty raising new funds on the international bond market. A renminbi-denominated currency swap arrangement worth US $900 milion extended by the People’s Bank of China in early 2021 has helped to patch some of cracks in the economic edifice. But the Lao kip is now coming under pressure, retesting lows against the US dollar set after in 2003. Poor performance of the kip means that US dollar denominated debts become more expensive to service, while local currency bonds become less attractive for investors. Meanwhile, government spending on health and education has fallen far behind debt servicing.

    Overall, the Lao Government has pushed forward with an ambitious but risky hydropower and infrastructure development scheme. The domestic component of Laos’ “Battery of Asia” ambitions has been funded to an important degree by China’s policy banks and involves Chinese construction firms. Our paper tracks the fallout from this debt-fueled infrastructure expansion in Laos, which has led to a credit crunch, pressure on state budgets, and the forced sale of state assets including the strategic EdL-T. Financial ruptures have thus flowed on from an aggressive dam-building spree in Laos.

    Critical observers point to the larger problem whereby small developing countries must navigate vicious spirals of debt, credit downgrades and interest rate hikes during a financial shock, while large developed economies can seemingly engage in endless cycles of quantitative easing at low interest rates to navigate their way out of economic problems. This is part of the structural inequality of the global financial system. At the same time Laos has declined to participate in the World Bank Debt Service Suspension Initiative (DSSI), preferring to engage first with bilateral negotiations with China.

    In Laos and in the Mekong region, it has been riverside communities and peasant farmers who have shouldered much of the cost of resource-led development, experiencing widespread dislocation, resettlement and sharp environmental impacts. Rural people displaced by dams are now joined by the urbanites struggling with inflation in household staples during a sharp economic downturn.

    Debt problems continued to ricochet through the Lao economy. It is hoped the economy can rebound in 2022, supported by new electricity export deals, and new investment and tourism linkages facilited by the Lao-China Railway. We can also see how, under a financialised resource investment regime, repairing the financial damage from nature-society ruptures requires ever more extractive investment. At the end of 2021, the GoL found itself in an unexpected financial corner, while many displaced rural communities and the urban poor are going underwater.

    The post Going under? Belt and Road megaprojects and sovereign debt in Laos appeared first on New Mandala.

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  • Education is a key priority in global development agendas and its importance among intergovernmental organisations like UNESCO, UNICEF, and WHO is beyond doubt. But  the voices and worldviews of ethnic groups are often neglected in these global policy discourses, and policies rely instead on assumptions that reflect industrialised Western countries histories and contexts. One of those assumptions is the often unquestioned pathway from education to better health as learners acquire more skills, have better access to resources, and earn credentials for social and economic benefits. However, lessons from the Yru in Southern Laos remind us that “everyday cultural heritage” – a marker of cultural knowledge – is a formidable force of both the wellbeing of communities and their complex and often syncretic health-seeking behaviours.

    Laos follows the global education policy mindset. In the effort to emerge from its “least developed country” status, the country’s 2015 Education and Sports Sector Development Plan has framed education as a tool to convert the Lao population into,

    “good citizens, disciplined, healthy, knowledgeable, highly-skilled with professionalism in order to sustainably develop the country, to align and be compatible with the region and the world.”

    Nominal gains have indeed been made: Primary education net enrolment has reached 98.8% in 2016, and 80.9% of children completed primary school in 2015/16, compared to 48% in 2007/08. But problems persist despite apparent progress.

    One key issue is that structural barriers limit ethnic people’s ability to partake in and shape education in Laos despite government efforts to support ethnic groups. With a population of about 6.9 million, there are 50 official ethnic groups recognised by the government. The majority is ethnic Lao Loum, and their language is the only official language of the country. Other ethnicities have their own distinct cultural backgrounds, may not speak Lao as their mother tongue, and struggle with accessing education and health services.

    Further issues compound beneath the surface of access to services. Although research and policy assert wide-ranging positive impacts of education on livelihoods especially in low- and middle-income countries, new studies have documented counter-intuitive and problematic relationships between formal education and people’s health practices – for instance in Lao PDR, Thailand, and China.

    Map of Lao PDR highlighting the province Champassak. (Source: Wikimedia Commons user Hdamm)

    Do we have to challenge (yet again) the role of “education” in global development? To revisit our assumptions, we conducted research in Paksong District in the Southern Lao province of Champassak (see map). Our research takes place in Namtang village (pop. 1114), where the Yru people live in coexistence with the Lao Loum (Tai Lao) ethnic group. The local school in Namtang enables access to primary and secondary education for a majority of villagers and neighbouring communities, and community members indeed value education as a means to advance and improve human behaviour, livelihoods, and development. In the villagers’ perception, education actively links to health-related beliefs and practices, which manifest in easy access to formal healthcare services including a health centre, a private clinic, and a drugstore in Namtang village.

    But schooling is not the only influence on health practices and well-being. Other social and cultural factors, such as traditions and family and community relations, continue to shape local health practices. Indeed, the community map below depicts a local Buddhist temple (bottom right corner) as a main destination for healing and for health knowledge for youth as well as senior villagers:

    “I used to be a monk. The ways I took care of my health were based on the Buddha’s teaching, meditation, and the Five Precepts of Buddhism.” (Youth Research Participant)

    While this is not uncommon, the Yru specifically also maintain an intangible cultural heritage called Reed (“mores” in English). It can be understood as the governing rules of the community, which ban for instance rice milling before 6am or shooting guns in the village, and which require rectifying rituals to restore well-being and to prevent misfortune.

    Participatory mapping by senior citizens depicting healthcare and healing locations in Namtang village and their corresponding real-life locations. The top two images depict the Neum Reed, a ritual house for Yru ceremonies. The coloured stickers indicate treatment preferences. (Source: research materials. Image credit: Thipphaphone Xayavong.)

    The Reed of the Yru culture illustrates the multiple dimensions of health and well-being and complicates the often-assumed link between formal education and healthcare service utilisation. In contrast to health and education policy narratives that emphasise individual responsibility, the Reed is a collective matter that determines the community’s health and wellbeing: If any individual breaks the Reed, it could disrupt normalcy and provoke unusual injuries, death, or loss of community members. To live a healthy life, taking care of oneself is therefore not enough; respect for the social contract established by the Reed needs to be observed as well. Everyday heritage in the form of rituals involving offerings of animals and ceremonial drink reproduces this social contract, making it a collectively produced form of well-being. The Reed is indeed said to be “necessary” for healing as it coexists with and infuses into the mainstream provision of formal healthcare services:

     “If we cannot be treated at the hospital, or from the temple, then we correct the Reed.” (Senior Research Participant)

    Such social and spiritual dimensions of well-being are often missing in arguments about health, education, and their linkage. To uncover these invisibilities, we use participatory methods that are more capable of capturing community perspectives and broader social and cultural aspects of their life. We started with a series of consultations with different stakeholders, including the health department, health workers, village authorities, health volunteers, and villagers. We then trained a group of research assistants for this project, whom we recruited from the participating villages. As local researchers who shared the lived experiences of the Yru, they were able to reshape our research agenda to better suit the local context. The research assistants then took leading roles as co-facilitators in community consultations.

    A demonstration of using Lao Hai (a liquor jar) in Peng Reed ritual. In the actual event, a small chicken (sometimes pork small for bigger event) and Lao Hai are the two main offerings that people use to give tribute to the spirits of their parents, or spirits in nature (river, forest, lake). The ritual is led by respected elders in the community have inhabited the role from their ancestors. (Image credit: Sai, Research Assistant in Namtang Village.)

    The community consultations again used participatory techniques (role plays, peace circle discussion groups, community mapping) and provided a safe space for community members to share experiences in education and health. A bilingual setup using Yru and Lao language facilitated the understanding of complex concepts, mutual learning, and the co-production of knowledge. Other, art-based techniques like participatory mapping and role-playing helped create a relaxing and enjoyable space for people to freely tell their stories. Compared to conventional research methods (which we used as well, in this and previous projects), the participants could therefore take more control of what kind of information they wanted to present and how they built their narratives.

    Smiling to fight: Waiting out the pandemic in Laos

    An important and unanswered question is the extent to which traditions of subsistence farming may still keep families afloat.

    Research on the role of culture in promoting health is not new. Our study, however, does not merely regard cultural heritage as an instrument to promote health but focuses on its genuine and core value in shaping health practices and producing community well-being in coexistence and coevolution with so-called modern medicine. In Namtang village, maintaining good health and well-being is not a mere matter of individual responsibility to stay physically healthy, but a collective community process of cultural production. Intangible cultural heritage such as Reed defines the relationship of individuals to their family, community, and spaces (e.g. Neum Reed), which makes it necessary to maintain individual and community well-being.

    The voices of ethnic groups help us reflect on and challenge mainstream policy positions: If development policy promotes secular formal education that crowds out traditional customs, are we not likely to undermine cultural practices that indirectly affect physical health, and also directly constitute non-physical dimensions of well-being? Indeed, modernisation paradigms and their quest for “good citizens, disciplined, healthy, knowledgeable, highly-skilled with professionalism” may accidentally threaten multidimensional health despite their good intentions. Heritage-sensitive participatory approaches – and, ultimately, heritage-sensitive development policy – can help safeguard the perspectives and lives that are often marginalised in mainstream discourses.

    The post Reshaping education and development: Learning from the Yru of Laos appeared first on New Mandala.

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  • In May, the HBO television network aired a new two-part documentary exploring America’s ongoing opioid epidemic entitled The Crime of the Century. The first episode summarized the role of the pharmaceutical industry in the crisis, specifically that of Sackler family drug-maker Purdue Pharma and its deadly prescription painkiller, OxyContin. Part One also thoroughly investigates the complicity of the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in the deceptive marketing by the drug company to obtain U.S. government approval for oxycodone despite its high risk of abuse and dependency, just as the pharmaceutical lobby bribes lawmakers in Washington. Later, the second half of the series charts the current rising use of even more powerful synthetic opioids like fentanyl. During COVID-19, the number of fatal overdoses have reportedly spiked in an epidemic already estimated to be taking nearly 50,000 lives per year. The HBO production is one of a slew of recent films such as Netflix’s The Pharmacist and The Young Turks’ The Oxy Kingpins which highlight the responsibility of the pharmaceutical industry but omit discussion of a related issue that has become taboo for media to even mention. While the film’s scathing indictment of Big Pharma is certainly relevant, it unfortunately neglects to address another enormous but lesser-known factor in America’s escalating drug problem.

    Corporate media would have us believe it is simply fortuitous that during the exact time opioid overdose deaths in the U.S. began to increase in the early 2000s, the so-called War on Terror began with the conquest and plundering of a country abroad that has since become the world’s epicenter for opium production. By the end of August, American combat forces are scheduled to fully withdraw from Afghanistan shortly before the twentieth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks that preceded the October 2001 invasion and subsequent two decade occupation. Contrary to the spin put on the announcement by the Biden administration, the pledge to finally remove troops from the longest war in U.S. history was actually yet another postponement, as the Trump administration had previously agreed with the Taliban to a complete draw-down by May. Time will tell whether the new deadline is Washington kicking the can down the road again in the endless war, but the withdrawal has already drawn criticism from the bipartisan foreign policy establishment with former Secretaries of State Hillary Clinton and Condoleezza Rice voicing their objections to the House Foreign Affairs Committee. Unfortunately for the Beltway chicken hawks, polls show an increasingly war-weary American public are unanimously in support of the move, which is little wonder given they have endured a silent epidemic that can be partly traced back to the conflict-ridden nation.

    Even though the FDA approved OxyContin six years before the U.S. took control of the South Central Asian country, an increase in domestic heroin overdoses has been intertwined with the uptick in abuse of commonly prescribed and man-made opioids which have become gateway drugs to the morphium-derived opiate in the new millennium. Meanwhile, Afghanistan has become the globe’s leading narco-state under NATO occupation which accounts for more than 90% of global opium production that is used to make heroin and other narcotics. According to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC), poppy cultivation in the Islamic Republic increased by 37% last year alone. At the same time, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reports that heroin use in the U.S. more than doubled among young adults in the last ten years, while 45% of heroin users were said to be hooked on prescription opioid painkillers as well. Yet the impression one gets from mainstream media is that the vast majority of smack on America’s streets is coming solely from Mexican cartels, a statistical impossibility based on the scale of the U.S. user demand in proportion to the amount of hectares produced in Latin America, when the majority is inevitably being sourced from a country its own military has colonized for two decades.

    The predominant narrative is that the illegal trade is the Taliban’s primary source of income financing its insurgency which has put the Pashtun-based group in nearly as strong a position today as it was prior to its overthrow when it presided over three quarters of the country. While the newly rebranded movement’s bloody and intolerant history cannot be whitewashed, one would have no idea that the lowest period in the previous thirty years for Afghan opium growth was actually under the five-year reign of the Islamists who strictly forbid poppy farming a year before the U.S. takeover, though it is claimed they were merely deceiving the international community. Nevertheless, where opium harvesting really flourished preceding the NATO invasion was under the border lands controlled by the Northern Alliance, the same coalition of warlords and tribes later armed by the C.I.A. to oust the Taliban, while United Nations observers even acknowledged the success of the Sharia-based ban until its ouster.

    Beginning in 2001, Afghanistan was instantly transformed into the chief global heroin supplier entering Turkey through the Balkans into the European Union and via Tajikistan eastward into Russia, China and beyond. In the midst of the U.S. exit, there is a general agreement that the days are numbered for the Kabul government as the Taliban continue to make gains. Still, the question remains — if the self-described Islamic Emirate and its asymmetric warfare is to blame for the opium boom, then where on earth did the billions NATO allocated for its counter-narcotics strategy go? Even in the rare instances when major news outlets have reported on the U.S. military’s non-intervention policy toward opium farming with American marines suspiciously under orders to turn a blind eye to the poppy fields, the yellow press simply refuses to connect the dots. Under the smokescreen of supposedly protecting the only means of subsistence for the impoverished locals, NATO forces are in reality safeguarding the lethal product lining the pockets of the Afghan government. Why else would the Western coalition continue to overlook the Taliban’s main source of revenue if it is only the Pashtun nationalists who profit?

    In reality, it was under the initial post-Taliban regime of President Hamid Karzai where drug exports began to surge as the very regime installed by the Bush administration shielded the unlawful trade from its cosmetic prohibition effort. Even though voter fraud was rampant during both the 2004 and 2009 Afghan elections, Karzai was championed as the country’s first “democratically-elected” leader while receiving tens of millions in behind the scenes payments from the Central Intelligence Agency. A longtime Western asset, Karzai had previously raised funds in neighboring Pakistan for the anti-communist mujahideen during the Afghan-Soviet War in the 1980s. Not only did the ranks of the Islamic ‘holy warriors’ armed and funded in the C.I.A.’s Operation Cyclone program include Karzai and the eventual core of both the Taliban and Al-Qaeda — including Osama bin Laden himself — but it is also well established the jihadists were deeply immersed in drug smuggling as the U.S. looked the other way. The late, great historian William Blum wrote:

    CIA-supported mujahideen rebels engaged heavily in drug trafficking while fighting the Soviet-supported government, which had plans to reform Afghan society. The Agency’s principal client was Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, one of the leading drug lords and the biggest heroin refiner, who was also the largest recipient of CIA military support. CIA-supplied trucks and mules that had carried arms into Afghanistan were used to transport opium to laboratories along the Afghan-Pakistan border. The output provided up to one-half of the heroin used annually in the United States and three-quarters of that used in Western Europe. U.S. officials admitted in 1990 that they had failed to investigate or take action against the drug operation because of a desire not to offend their Pakistani and Afghan allies. In 1993, an official of the DEA dubbed Afghanistan the new Colombia of the drug world.

    As maintained by the UNODC, the heroin flooding out of Afghanistan and Central Asia into Western Europe passes through the Balkan route consisting of the independent ex-Yugoslav states, together with Albania and the partially-recognized protectorate of Kosovo. Not coincidentally, this transit corridor largely began to swell with narcotraffic proceeding the NATO war on Yugoslavia in the 1990s, especially in the wake of the Kosovo conflict which saw the Clinton administration shore up the Al Qaeda-linked Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) to secede the disputed province from Serbia. Even with their previous State Department designation as a terrorist organization until 1998, the Islamist militants were given an instant facelift as freedom fighters. Apart from the fact that the ethnic Albanian separatists had considerable ties to Salafist extremist networks, the C.I.A.-backed Kosovar insurgents also subsidized their military campaign, which involved serious war crimes and ethnic cleansing, through narcoterrorism and drug running with Albanian crime syndicates — in above all, heroin. As journalist Diana Johnstone writes inFools’ Crusade: Yugoslavia, NATO and Western Delusions:

    The U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration and other Western agencies were well aware of the close links between the UCK/KLA and the Kosovo Albanian drug traffickers controlling the main flow of heroin into Western Europe from Afghanistan via Turkey. The CIA has a long record of considering such groups as assets against governments targeted by the United States, whether in Southeast Asia, Africa or Central America.

    Shortly after the Red Army retreated in 1989, Afghanistan became one of the world’s top opium producers for the first time throughout the next decade until Taliban Supreme Leader Mullah Omar issued a fatwa against the lucrative crop in 2000. When the comprador Karzai assumed office the very next year, another family figure emerged as a key coalition ally in the country’s south — younger half-brother Ahmed Wali Karzai — who was appointed to govern poppy-rich Kandahar Province until his assassination in 2011. Just a year earlier, it was revealed by WikiLeaks embassy cables that Washington was well aware the younger Karzai was a corrupt drug lord, not long after The New York Times divulged his key role in the opium trade while simultaneously on the C.I.A. payroll. Even though this partial hangout was publicized by the Old Gray Lady, the newspaper of record never bothered to further investigate the links between Langley and the Karzai family’s deep pockets from the drug market. Instead, they continued to craft the misleading perception that taxes on poppy farming within Taliban-held areas was chiefly responsible for the illegal industry dominating the Afghan economy and fueling the never-ending war that Washington has a vested interest in prolonging.

    Many commentators have drawn parallels between the recent disorganized abandonment of Bagram Airfield, the largest U.S. base in Afghanistan, and the final evacuation of American combat troops from South Vietnam during the Fall (Liberation) of Saigon in 1975. The mountainous country situated at the intersection of Central and South Asia along with Pakistan and (to a lesser extent) Iran comprises what is known as the ‘Golden Crescent’, one of two main hubs of opium turnout on the continent. In the Vietnam era, most of the globe’s heroin came from the other major axis of poppy-plant growth in the ‘Golden Triangle’ of Southeast Asia located at the border junction between Thailand, Laos and Myanmar. This crossroads continued to be the largest region for harvesting of the flower until the early 21st century when Afghanistan surpassed it in out-turn. While there has yet to be revealed a smoking gun, per se, implicating the C.I.A. in drug trafficking from the Golden Crescent, it is at the very least food for thought given the precedent set by the agency throughout its 73-year history.

    From the beginning of the Cold War, Langley intimately conspired with organized crime to achieve U.S. foreign policy objectives. Following the Cuban Revolution in 1959, the rogue spy agency frequently enlisted the Mafia in its many failed attempts to overthrow Fidel Castro and decades later many still believe that the same elements likely had a hand in the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Still, it was not until 1972 during the Vietnam War when historian Alfred W. McCoy famously uncovered the extent to which the C.I.A. was involved in the international drug trade in The Politics of Heroin in Southeast Asia. The explosive study meticulously documented how the narcotics coming out of the Golden Triangle were being transported on a front airline known as Air America run by U.S. intelligence as part of its covert operations in bordering Laos.

    In the Laotian civil war, the C.I.A. had secretly organized a guerrilla army of 30,000 strong from the indigenous Hmong population to fight the communist Pathet Lao forces aligned with North Vietnam and the highland natives were economically dependent on poppy cultivation. When the heroin exported out of Laos didn’t find its way to cities in America, it ended up next-door in Vietnam where opiate habits among G.I.s reached epidemic proportions, one of many instances of ‘blowback’ from U.S. collusion with worldwide drug smuggling. Believe it or not, however, this was not the first correlation between an American war and an opiate epidemic at home, as previously during the Civil War in the 1870s there was widespread morphine addiction among Union and Confederate soldiers.

    It appears that almost everywhere U.S. interventionism goes, the drug market seems to follow. In the early 1980s, the C.I.A. mobilized another counter-revolutionary fighting force in Central America as part of the Reagan administration’s dirty war against the left-wing Sandinista government in Nicaragua. During the Nicaraguan civil war, Congress had forbidden any funding or supplying of weapons to the right-wing Contras as stipulated in the Boland Amendment. Instead, Washington used go-betweens like Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega, a long-standing C.I.A. operative closely linked to narco-trafficking through Pablo Escobar’s Medellín Cartel, until the U.S. later turned against the strongman. In what became known as the Iran-Contra affair, the Reagan White House was embroiled in scandal after it was divulged that the C.I.A. had devised a rat line funneling arms to a most unlikely source in the Islamic Republic of Iran — a sworn enemy of the U.S. under embargo — by which the takings were diverted to the Nicaraguan terrorists. Although the official excuse for the secret deal was an arms-for-hostages exchange for U.S. citizens being held in Lebanon, the real purpose for the arrangement was to finance the Contras whose other proceeds happened to come from a different illicit enterprise — cocaine.

    Despite the fact that a 1986 inquiry by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee found that the agency knew the anti-Sandinista rebels were engaged in cocaine trafficking just as use of its highly-addictive freebase variation was surging in cities across America, it was not until a decade later when investigative journalist Gary Webb in his controversial Dark Alliance series fully exposed the link between Contra drug operations under C.I.A. protection and the crack epidemic domestically. Public outcry over the three-part investigation resonated most strongly within the African-American community whose inner city neighborhoods were devastated by the crack explosion and the indignation culminated in a Los Angeles town hall where a large audience confronted C.I.A. Director John Deutch.

    Amid the fallout, Webb found himself the target of a media-led smear campaign disputing the credibility of the exposé which destroyed his life and derailed his career, even though his findings were based on extensive court documents and corroborated by former crack kingpins like “Freeway” Rick Ross and ex-LAPD narcotics officer Michael C. Ruppert. Sadly, the journalist would later die of a highly suspicious suicide in 2004 but eventually Webb’s muckraking was the subject of a favorable Hollywood depiction in 2014’s Kill The Messenger. In the end, the fearless reporter was punished for revealing that many of the individuals most involved in cocaine trafficking in the eighties were the same exact individuals the C.I.A. employed to channel guns to the Contras, thereby permitting drugs to flow into the U.S..

    Although there has yet to be the equivalent of a Vietnam or Nicaragua-level disclosure of incontrovertible evidence incriminating Uncle Sam in the Afghan drug business as the troop removal approaches, the answer may lie with who is set to replace them. A Defense Department report from earlier this year indicates that at least 18,000 security contractors remain in the war-torn country, where outsourcing to private military companies like Academi (formerly Blackwater) has increasingly been relied upon in the 20-year war, including for futile drug enforcement measures. As the services of guns-for-hire with a penchant for human rights abuses grew in the lengthy conflict, oversight and accountability diminished to the point where the Pentagon is unable to accurately keep track of defense firms or what mercenaries are even doing in the country. Meanwhile, private security services have made a fortune being contracted out for the abortive anti-drug effort just as Afghanistan set records in opiate production.

    Alfred W. McCoy, the acclaimed historian who unearthed C.I.A. collaboration with opiate trafficking in Indochina, not long ago chronicled the imminent downfall of the U.S. as a superpower in In the Shadows of American History: The Rise and Decline of U.S. Global Power. In his work, McCoy notes how the U.S. has set out to fulfill the “Heartland Theory” geostrategy envisioned by the architect of modern geopolitics, Sir Halford Mackinder, in his influential 1904 paper “The Geographical Pivot of History.” The English analyst reconceived the continents as poles of interconnected global power and cited the way in which the British Empire joined with the other Western European nations in the 19th century to prevent Russian imperial expansionism in “The Great Game” with Afghanistan serving as a battleground. Fearing that the Russian Empire would enlarge toward the south, the British sent forces to Afghanistan as a containment strategy, a decision which ultimately proved to be a humiliating defeat for the East India Company but according to Mackinder blocked the Russian sphere of influence in British India. He then theorized that the country which conquered the Eurasian ‘Heartland’ of the Russian core would come to dominate the world. For the strategist, the geographical notion of Eurasia also consisted of China which the British had used drug addiction to destabilize and overcome in the Opium Wars.

    In 1979, the National Security Adviser in the Jimmy Carter administration, Zbigniew Brzezinski, put Mackinder’s blueprint into practice after the U.S. was forced to pull back in Vietnam by luring the Soviet Union into its own impregnable quagmire in a new “Great Game.” The scheme worked like a charm and just months after the Polish-born Russophobe persuaded the 39th president to lend clandestine support to the mujahideen in Afghanistan, aid from Moscow was requested by the socialist government in Kabul and the rest was history. Like the British Empire and Alexander the Great before it, the U.S. is itself now bogged down in the ‘graveyard of empires’ after  forgetting the lessons of history. Unintended or not, one of the adverse results of America’s empire-building has been the pouring of fuel on the fire of an initially homegrown opioid crisis begun by Big Pharma by turning Afghanistan into a multi-billion dollar narco-economy whereby heroin is circulated for consumption all over the map.

    Like the Pentagon Papers released during the Vietnam War, the internal memos of the Afghanistan Papers made public in 2019 proved officials were deceiving the American people about the reality of the no-win situation on the ground. It remains to be seen what impact the U.S. handover to the corrupt Kabul regime will have for dope distribution as a Taliban seizure of power appears near, but the latest report by the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR) determined that officials have long known the war was ill-fated from the outset and warns Washington is bound to repeat the same errors in the future. Unless critical steps are taken to rein in the military-industrial complex, we have to assume that with another forever war there will unavoidably come the opening of another C.I.A.-controlled international drug route with Americans either suffering the consequences with their pocketbooks or their lives.

    The post The War in Afghanistan: The real “Crime of the Century” behind the Opioid Crisis first appeared on Dissident Voice.

    This post was originally published on Dissident Voice.

  • On 17 a blog post in hrcessex by Sarah Mui profiles Muay: “A Fierce Woman Human Rights Defender”

    Houayheung (“Muay”) Xayabouly is not only a mother, small business owner and the primary breadwinner of her family, but shehas also been breaking down stereotypical gender roles by being a fierce human rights defender and environmental activist in Laos.She is viewed as a public figure among her community because of her work to shed light onto the countless human rights violations that she and fellow Lao people have endured at the hands of the national government. In 2019, the Lao government decided to make an example out of Muay and unjustly sentenced her to five years in prison, for which she was stripped of all fair trial guarantees. In honor of International Women’s Day and Women’s History Month, I urge all who read this to remember her name, learn her fight and spread awareness to demand that all charges be dropped and Muay be set free.

    Photo courtesy of Manushya Foundatio

    In 2017, Muay began raising awareness on social media over the excessive tolls that she along with other people in her community were being charged when crossing a bridge on the border of Laos and Thailand. The cost of the toll was equivalent to several meals, but Lao people relied on it to travel to and from work each day, including Muay herself. It turned out that the Lao government had given the private international company, Duangdee, the concession to charge the toll when it constructed the bridge in the first place. This concession left her community in an impossible situation where they were perpetually indebted to this private company who took advantage of the bridge’s necessity. Muay’s video about the toll deeply resonated with the Lao people, who agreed that the government benefited from the financial relationship with Duangdee. This made Muay realize the importance of using her voice to speak up for Lao people, and it was then that she made the decision to dedicate her life to fighting for them.   

    The Lao government did nothing in response to their people’s outcry over the excessive tolls, but rather chose to focus attention on finding ways to intimidate Muay. Soon after the video went viral, the police were sent to her location to warn her to not criticize it.

    In 2018, Muay challenged the Lao government over the corrupt hiring practices of public sector and governmental positions in that they were being appointed on the condition of bribes instead of through proper hiring procedures. This was quite personal for Muay because her own brother had been deeply impacted by this practice. He had always aspired to become a police officer but was cheated out of money and the position of his dreams due to these dishonorable practices. Muay’s video discussing the topic received over 320,000 views as of July last year. 

    Soon after Muay’s widely viewed video, she was fired from her job as a tour guide for “unknown” reasons other than the fact her employer had been mysteriously pressured to do so. 

    Muay was not going to let the government deter her from helping Lao people. Later that year, she decided to create a school for Lao children to address the dire inequalities that they faced in accessing education. The current practice was for parents to pay a bribe to secure a spot for their children, otherwise they could not provide them an education. She started multiple fundraisers to accomplish this goal, including selling shirts that said, “I don’t want to buy government positions,” referencing the Lao government’s corrupt hiring practices in addition to holding a concert featuring a number of local performers. 

    Again, instead of actually listening to the suffering of its people, the government chose to continue to try to intimidate Muay by shutting down the fundraising concert and prohibiting the selling of shirts. 

    The year 2018 was also troubling because that summer a dam collapsed in Attapeu Province, which led to numerous deaths, disappearances and displacements of Lao people. The government purportedly underreported the impact of the collapse and restricted access to the scene by the media and independent aid organizations. Muay decided to take matters into her own hands and post her own videos of the disaster and its significant effect on the community. 

    In response to the shocking video, Muay was called to the police station and was told to cease all criticism of the Lao government. 

    Around the same time, Muay had learned that donations for the impacted families of the dam collapse were being sold by Lao police for their own monetary gain. She could not allow her community to suffer so she started collecting donations for them herself. She documented and shared this all on social media.

    Within a few days, the Lao government issued a press statement advising the public against reading “unofficial news” about the collapse. 

    In the autumn of 2019, the Lao people who lived close to the dam were again harmed after a tropical storm caused major flooding, leaving over 100,000 displaced from their homes. Again, disturbed by the Lao government’s indifference towards its people, Muay posted another video calling the government out for its slow response and its lack of preventative measures which could have mitigated the storm’s impact.  

    Around the same time, the Lao government sent police to arrest Muay without a warrant while she was dining at a restaurant. She tried to post a video about what had happened, but she was forced to delete it. She was then placed in pre-trial detention long before her hearing and was denied an impartial lawyer and the ability to challenge her detention. She was subject to repeated long interrogations where she was coerced to confess to “spreading propaganda against the Lao government.” She was subsequently sentenced to five years in prison, for which she visitation has been limited and closely monitored. She has not been able to see her young daughter but a handful of times and international NGOs have been completely barred.

    Photo courtesy of Manushya Foundation

    The Lao Government is Using Muay as an Example to Silence Dissent 

    Muay is a strong and dedicated woman human rights defender and environmental activist who has fought endlessly for her community. Instead of taking accountability and listening to the suffering of its people, the Lao government has instead chosen to turn a blind eye to its human rights obligations and punish Muay for her significant contributions to her country. Until now, Muay’s story has only been made available by a few NGOs working hard to shed light onto her fervent advocacy and now wrongful detention. To spread the word about her fight, please share this blog, follow #FreeMuay and visit this link to demand that Muay be set free!

    About the Author: Sarah Mui is an American human rights lawyer currently in the LLM for International Human Rights Law program at the University of Essex. She is also a research assistant with the Manushya Foundation located in Bangkok. Sarah hopes to work in the field women’s rights upon graduation. 

    https://hrcessex.wordpress.com/2021/03/17/muay-a-fierce-woman-human-rights-defender/

    This post was originally published on Hans Thoolen on Human Rights Defenders and their awards.

  • The Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES) is one of the most important international bodies in the world right now. Its actions and choices have immense bearing on what the future holds. CITES determines what trade in at-risk wildlife species is permissible or not. As such, whether the world properly tackles the biodiversity crisis, aka the disappearance of essential diverse life on earth, and limits the risk of future zoonotic pandemics, like coronavirus (Covid-19), partly lies in its hands.

    Currently, CITES is subject to two legal challenges. They both relate to China and its trading in Asian elephants and chimpanzees with Laos and South Africa respectively. The challenges are complex and allege numerous violations of CITES wildlife trading rules. They paint a picture of a highly profitable and thriving market in some of the world’s most endangered species, where corruption, rule-bending and fraud is rife. In essence, the legal complaints expose the CITES system as one where the rules are used to accommodate the trade, rather than the other way around.

    With CITES’ increasing importance in our wildlife-depleted and pandemic-riddled world, these legal challenges offer an insight into how the UN body currently functions. Unfortunately, they starkly highlight how unfit CITES is for the existential problems we face.

    The Convention

    As The Canary has previously reported, CITES is a global agreement between most states – known as parties – on international wildlife trading. Its primary purpose is meant to be ensuring that trade doesn’t drive species to extinction. It currently regulates the trade in around 38,700 species that it’s designated as in need of protection – approximately 32,800 species of plants and 5,950 species of non-human animals.

    It lists these species in three appendices, essentially depending on how much at risk of extinction they are. It then sets out rules for trade of species in those different appendices. This rules-based trade is authorised through a permitting system. Permits are issued by national CITES management authorities in member countries “upon advice” from their national CITES scientific authorities. A central CITES authority, called the CITES Secretariat, oversees the working of the Convention, assisted by a number of committees.

    In theory, the system is simple enough. For international trade in CITES-listed species to occur, the national CITES authorities in the involved countries have to issue import and export permits, which are in line with the applicable rules for that species, to confirm the trade is permissible.

    The legal complaints show, however, that in practice, the system is anything but simple or, indeed, functional.

    Responsibility for source codes

    CITES has created source codes for species subject to trade. As the name implies, these codes indicate where the trader sourced the individuals in question from. The legal complaint about Asian elephant trades between Laos and China, which UK law firm Advocates for Animals has raised with CITES on behalf of filmmaker and author Karl Ammann, has issues relating to source codes at its core.

    CITES lists Asian elephants in Appendix I, reserved for species that are “the most endangered”. However, one of the special provisions for trade that CITES has is that if individuals from an Appendix I species are bred in captivity for commercial purposes, they are downgraded to Appendix II. There are more restrictions on trade for Appendix I species than Appendix II.

    In the CITES list of Asian elephant trades from Laos to China since 2014, all of them are listed as captive-bred, or source code C. The legal complaint disputes this, arguing that the source code has been ‘misused’. It claims that Laos “does not have any CITES registered commercial breeding facilities”. It also highlights a study that states “80% of calves born in captivity in Laos during the past decade are from wild genitors [fathers] from the Nam Pouy Protected Area”. Ammann says his sources have confirmed this.

    Whether the source code has been misused here is a case that Laos has to answer. But a further burning question is, why didn’t China question Laos’s repeated use of source code C, if it’s a country that has no CITES registered breeding facilities? Indeed, in its guidance on the application of source codes, CITES says that:

    If no licensed operation for the species exists, the legality of the export should be questioned.

    Internal inconsistencies

    The complaint also points out that CITES’ data says that Laos has exported 87 elephants to China since 2014. But a media report from Laos claimed that the country has exported 142 Asian elephants to China through one port – Mohan Port – since 2015. A further report by the Rescue Animals Project, which is quoted in the complaint, says that in 2014 there were 195 Asian elephants in 57 venues in China. The report said the number had increased by 140 to 335 Asian elephants, in 67 venues, by 2020.

    Clearly, the numbers don’t stack up. The Advocates for Animals complaint alleges that elephants are regularly smuggled, via a “hidden forest trail”, across the Laos/China border. This could account for the discrepancy. A failure by involved countries to fully record their permit documentation in the CITES database could cause such disparities too. Nonetheless, the fact that the discrepancy has only come to the fore because of the legal challenge begs another question: where are the checks and balances in CITES whereby the declared trades are checked against actual trades and what’s happening on the ground?

    Definition issues

    The second legal complaint, which Advocates for Animals has also raised on behalf of Ammann, focuses on the sale of 18 chimpanzees from South Africa to a Chinese zoo. As is the case for the Asian elephant complaint, it claims that the trade potentially violated numerous CITES rules. One of the violations the complaint alleges is that the traded chimpanzees will be “used for primarily commercial purposes”. As an Appendix I species, people cannot trade chimpanzees for primarily commercial purposes.

    CITES has a definition of what ‘commercial purposes’ means. It states that:

    An activity can generally be described as ‘commercial’ if its purpose is to obtain economic benefit (whether in cash or otherwise), and is directed toward resale, exchange, provision of a service or any other form of economic use or benefit.

    It also says that the term should be defined “as broadly as possible so that any transaction which is not wholly ‘non-commercial’ will be regarded as ‘commercial’”.

    The legal complaint partly asserts [pdf p6] that the trade was ‘primarily commercial’ because the zoo – Beijing Wild Animal Park – is a “profit based facility”, with a net profit of around $7m in 2017. As various tourism websites have boasted, the park also puts on ‘animal shows’, meaning the venue forces certain species to perform for the paying spectators.

    China issued a government directive in 2011 banning such performances. It reiterated the ban in further guidance in 2013. Nonetheless, the performances continue in many venues, with some notable exceptions.

    Lack of clarity

    CITES has responded to the chimpanzee complaint. Based on its response, Advocates for Animals understands that CITES is satisfied the trade in chimpanzees was for zoo purposes due to China claiming that the park’s focus is on science, education and research, among other related things. However, it appears all parties have acknowledged the venue isn’t registered as a scientific, educational or research institution.

    Essentially, CITES concluded that the purpose of the chimpanzee sale was for ‘zoo’ purposes not for ‘commercial purposes’ because that’s what China claims. It did concede that more clarification is needed for purpose code Z, i.e., zoos, and pledged to take action accordingly. But the fact CITES doesn’t appear to already have a clear definition of what constitutes a zoo and under what circumstances it considers a zoo to be a commercial entity – in light of its own definition of ‘commercial purposes’ – is deeply troubling.

    As Advocates for Animals’ Alice Collinson commented:

    It is vital that CITES put measures in place to prevent protected animals from being traded to zoos for primarily commercial purposes, which is happening increasingly according to Karl Ammann’s growing evidence base, particularly with China, and could undermine the purpose of a regime aimed at protecting the most vulnerable species. CITES has not ruled out that zoos can fall into the category of primary commercial, but have failed to clarify when that could occur.

    A system ripe for corruption

    The Asian elephant complaint also raises concerns over corruption being an issue in the current CITES system. Ammann has been investigating the wildlife trade, including the trade in elephants, for years. The complaint asserts that his investigations have shown that trafficking of elephants between Laos and China, in some cases, “involved bribes with officials”. The complaint alleges that bribes, which were not exclusive to one or other side of the border, were sometimes connected with preparing the ‘paperwork’ for CITES permits.

    Adding to concerns over corruption, Ammann’s investigations show that although Chinese dealers may purchase a Laotian elephant for around $25,000, the price Chinese zoos pay for them can be up to $500,000. This raises further issues with the ‘non-commercial’ classification of such trading. It also begs the question of where these vast sums of money are going.

    Ammann previously co-authored a 2013 report on illegal sales of chimpanzees from Guinea, mainly to China. Guinea issued numerous fraudulent permits for the chimpanzees between 2009 and 2011. In their investigation, the 2013 report’s authors said animal dealers told them that getting the fraudulent permits was “just a question of the relevant financial initiative (bribe)”.

    In short, allegations of corruption are neither new nor uncommon in CITES. One of the reasons why that’s the case is because CITES still relies on an archaic paper permitting system. As The Canary previously reported, an e-permit system does exist, called eCITES. But it appears to be barely functional, partly because of a lack of funding. It’s also not compulsory.

    The Canary contacted China’s CITES authorities for comment on the Asian elephant complaint. They did not respond to the request.

    Iceberg ahead

    Like the Laotian elephants, the issue with the Guinea-China chimpanzee trades centred on the classification of the great apes as ‘captive-bred’, despite Guinea having no breeding centres for them. Meanwhile, as with the South African chimpanzees, these apes were destined for Chinese zoos that the 2013 report’s authors argued were for ‘primarily commercial purposes’. One of the grounds for the Asian elephant complaint is also that they are used for ‘primarily commercial purposes’.

    Considered together, these three situations highlight recurring issues with the CITES system. Clearly, the body needs to address the inconsistencies around its ‘captive-bred’ source code. Arguably, given this source code appears ripe for abuse, the body needs to consider affording all individuals of a species the same stronger trade restrictions, regardless of their ‘source’ being the wild or captivity. CITES also needs to firm up who bears responsibility for ensuring source codes are adhered to. Notably, in the Guinea-China chimpanzee controversy, China faced no repercussions for its role in the years-long fraudulent use of the code. Moreover, CITES didn’t enforce a crucial obligation the involved parties had in the situation. Namely, under the Convention, parties are “obliged… to provide for the confiscation or return to the State of export” of any individuals who are “traded in violation of the Convention”.

    The apparent lack of checks and balances regarding declared trades and the reality on the ground also needs to be addressed. Systematic checks of submitted CITES paperwork, and wholesale adoption of a transparent, electronic permitting system, should happen too. Furthermore, the body must provide clarity on the critical purpose codes it has created and address the inconsistencies in its guidance and definitions. In particular, it needs to urgently resolve the ambiguity over when zoos should be viewed as commercial enterprises, so that the Z purpose code matches up with its definition of ‘primarily commercial purposes’.

    Like all international bodies, CITES is a behemoth. Coordination of the global wildlife trade involving most of the world’s governments is understandably no easy task. But for the sake of everyone in the living world – human and non-human – it is an essential one, with its importance only growing amid the biodiversity crisis and the threat of zoonotic diseases.

    Given its critical role, CITES needs to operate like a tight ship. But right now, it more resembles the Titanic. If it doesn’t buck up and get its act together, there’s nothing but icebergs ahead.

    Featured image via Wikimedia and Karl Ammann

    By Tracy Keeling

    This post was originally published on The Canary.