Look to the West Volume IX: The Electric Circus

[King of the Uzbeks]

Live Long and Prosper Indeed

 

[King of Danes]

Loved this update! I'm a big fan of old detective novels irl, so seeing ttl's spin of it was very neat

You’re probably expecting me to start with Jeanette Quentin. (Small reaction from audience) Well, there is a reason why Madame Quentin is rightly known as La reine du crime in French-speaking lands. Even in days when translations were considered inherently suspicious, readers here and around the world have continued to devour her books. Her best known stories are those involving the retired Irish chief of police, Ruairí Ó Caoimh, the man with the carrotty-red hair whose name no-one in France can either spell or pronounce – which unfortunately included Quentin’s publishers (Audience laughter) – and whose genial sagacity is shattered only when someone mistakes him for an Englishman, as they invariably do. Ó Caoimh, or O’Keeffe if I can anglicise it without being burned at the stake, was a very versatile vehicle for Quentin. He began literary life in 1930 with sensationalist plots concerning unfinished business from the recent war. However, Quentin soon hit her stride with mysteries set in anonymous, superficially peaceful rural French villages, where the locals were at each others’ throats behind the scenes and O’Keeffe’s retirement is interrupted as he must solve the latest murder. But Quentin was also able to space out these tales, and reinvent the character, by adding flashback cases from Quentin’s days on the force in Ireland, along with overseas visits to Bisnaga and Pérousie.

And so we see ttl's version of Agatha Christie and Poirot. Otl Agatha Christie is the best selling author ever (sans someone like Shakespeare ofc) - Does Jeanette Quentin hold the same honour ttl?

 

[PobreCesar]

You’re probably expecting me to start with Jeanette Quentin. (Small reaction from audience) Well, there is a reason why Madame Quentin is rightly known as La reine du crime in French-speaking lands. Even in days when translations were considered inherently suspicious, readers here and around the world have continued to devour her books. Her best known stories are those involving the retired Irish chief of police, Ruairí Ó Caoimh, the man with the carrotty-red hair whose name no-one in France can either spell or pronounce – which unfortunately included Quentin’s publishers (Audience laughter) – and whose genial sagacity is shattered only when someone mistakes him for an Englishman, as they invariably do. Ó Caoimh, or O’Keeffe if I can anglicise it without being burned at the stake, was a very versatile vehicle for Quentin. He began literary life in 1930 with sensationalist plots concerning unfinished business from the recent war. However, Quentin soon hit her stride with mysteries set in anonymous, superficially peaceful rural French villages, where the locals were at each others’ throats behind the scenes and O’Keeffe’s retirement is interrupted as he must solve the latest murder. But Quentin was also able to space out these tales, and reinvent the character, by adding flashback cases from Quentin’s days on the force in Ireland, along with overseas visits to Bisnaga and Pérousie.

I've been binge-reading Agatha Christie novels this year, so this was perfectly timed for me.

 

[Falecius]

Since these people are speaking English, not Italian, I'd assume Barclay can differentiate them readily by pronouncing "pittsa" with two lax vowels and "pizza" with two tense vowels.

Makes sense.

 

[Beatriz]

With Catholicism on the defacto decline between Societism and the Romulans, will there be an official French Catholic Church?

 

[Analytical Engine]

With Catholicism on the defacto decline between Societism and the Romulans, will there be an official French Catholic Church?

Surely everyone will have their own Catholic church.

 

[Thande]

Thanks for the comments. If it seems like I described the Barone-Archer story concept in detail, that's because I'm thinking of writing one myself in-universe as a spinoff...

@Beatriz probably either the next update or more likely the one after will look at the Middle East/North Africa.

Why do the Romulan Party's script graphics look a lot like they are inspired by some variant of the Syriac abjad?

That was a coincidence (well, one could tie it to TTL's fascination with Near Eastern archaeology over Egypt - at least until now - but that wouldn't make much sense for the Romulans). It's my attempt at a blocky 'futurist' style.

Also, "Pizza" sounds exactly like "Pittsa" - while misspelling the word might be offence comparable to putting pineapple slices over the thing*, nobody would really be able to hear this orthographic difference in correct Italian.

*We would contact our Embassy so that they may take care of the appropriate diplomatic steps to protect our national honour.

It's meant to be 'pittsa' with a short vowel. This is based on how some people in the UK pronounced it when it was a novel food here in the 70s.

 

[Leonidas]

Having a shared Latin language with Societist powers seems to have done quite a bit to undermine the Romulan regime (although they clearly had other problems). This could be seen by elites elsewhere as a reason to keep their respective national populations as isolated from a shared global culture as possible, the better to allow them to control information in their own states.

 

[Lavanya Six]

One thing that sticks out to me is the moralizing of the lecture, despite the speaker himself basically calling out high-brow literary critics/snobs as Societists who think fiction writers love fantasizing about killing people. For example, in an OTL lecture, in a storied setting/event like this lecture is being given in, I find it unlikely (although not impossible) that you'd get an argument like--

But really, murder is popular among ratiocinic writers simply because it represents the ultimate, heinous crime whose perpetrator is justified, in his or her own mind, in any action to conceal their guilt. A man who steals, whether it be a loaf of bread in the street or a million imps from a pension fund, must at some point make a judgement of whether it is best to continue a futile attempt to escape the police or to simply submit. And our story comes to a premature end, as it does with other lesser crimes. Conversely, for the murderer the only possible legal fate is life imprisonment or, historically, the rope. He will do anything to escape that fate. Importantly, it also locks him into a decaying path of descent. Morally, his first crime may be as justifiable as any crime can be; the slaying of a blackmailer who tormented him or a rival who implicated his innocent self in some other crime, perhaps. And yet we see again and again, in fiction and reality, the superficially ‘good’ man who is soon killing again and again in a desperate and futile attempt to cover up his original crime, all thought of morality forgotten. When the first murder is committed, something breaks inside our moral compass, and though on the outside we may look unchanged, inside we are no longer completely human. (Audience murmurs) I know that sort of sentiment can sound evocative of Societism, but it is very much also the justification of law and order in the nations, and the rules that underpin our civilisation.

That's a very strict sense of black-and-white morality, and his pleading at the end rings hollow, tbh. Perhaps this is another instance where even the critics of Societist have internalized the Societist standpoint on something? Because it sounds like OTL noir fiction wouldn't fit into the genre he's describing. Maybe that's not considered "logical reasoning" ratiocinic fiction ITTL? Like how Sci-fi/Fantasy/Horror have different genre boundaries here?

Also, the detail that life imprisonment is "the only possible legal fate" for murder seems extreme, although that might be an issue of simplification on the speaker's part. No need to delve into the idea of manslaughter or "twenty years to life" for a reduced murder sentence. OTOH, if it isn't a simplification, that could be an extension of the internalized Societist ideals: kill someone, and we'll get your ass.

 

[Beatriz]

Having a shared Latin language with Societist powers seems to have done quite a bit to undermine the Romulan regime (although they clearly had other problems). This could be seen by elites elsewhere as a reason to keep their respective national populations as isolated from a shared global culture as possible, the better to allow them to control information in their own states.

Presumably where Panchala gets its idea of restricting access to foreign languages from. Panchala adopting “Consul” as its title for its Head of State seems a bit too on the nose

 

[Leonidas]

Presumably where Panchala gets its idea of restricting access to foreign languages from. Panchala adopting “Consul” as its title for its Head of State seems a bit too on the nose

Yes, and it dovetails nicely with Diversitarian ideology, as we’ve seen already with governments controlling what media gets translated and separating different nationalities by compartment when traveling. It all seems tailored to reduce the spread of inconvenient ideas and influence people’s views of other nations so they don’t attempt to build solidarity around anything except opposing societism.

 

[Beatriz]

I expect Literal Underground Cities to make an appearance at some point during this timeline

 

[Beatriz]

Yes, and it dovetails nicely with Diversitarian ideology, as we’ve seen already with governments controlling what media gets translated and separating different nationalities by compartment when traveling. It all seems tailored to reduce the spread of inconvenient ideas and influence people’s views of other nations so they don’t attempt to build solidarity around anything except opposing societism.

I was also remarking on the *Fascist influences plus “the glories of the Aryan ancestors” and anti-intellectual elements mentiomed - seems like an answer to “what if the *RSS were the main independence movement “

 

[Beatriz]

Also, the loss of the German colonies in the Pandoric War, the loss of Belgian colonies in the Black Twenties, and the Implied loss of the Italian and Russian colonies in/after the Sunrise War makes outside-of-narrative sense because the metropoles are geographically less suited for colonies

 

[scifilovr]

Her best known stories are those involving the retired Irish chief of police, Ruairí Ó Caoimh, the man with the carrotty-red hair whose name no-one in France can either spell or pronounce – which unfortunately included Quentin’s publishers (Audience laughter) – and whose genial sagacity is shattered only when someone mistakes him for an Englishman, as they invariably do. Ó Caoimh, or O’Keeffe if I can anglicise it without being burned at the stake, was a very versatile vehicle for Quentin. He began literary life in 1930 with sensationalist plots concerning unfinished business from the recent war. However, Quentin soon hit her stride with mysteries set in anonymous, superficially peaceful rural French villages, where the locals were at each others’ throats behind the scenes and O’Keeffe’s retirement is interrupted as he must solve the latest murder.

I don't know if it's just me, but some of those sleepy French villages sound very much like Sandford being visited by Detective Nicholas Angel.

 

[Thande]

One thing that sticks out to me is the moralizing of the lecture, despite the speaker himself basically calling out high-brow literary critics/snobs as Societists who think fiction writers love fantasizing about killing people. For example, in an OTL lecture, in a storied setting/event like this lecture is being given in, I find it unlikely (although not impossible) that you'd get an argument like--

That's a very strict sense of black-and-white morality, and his pleading at the end rings hollow, tbh. Perhaps this is another instance where even the critics of Societist have internalized the Societist standpoint on something? Because it sounds like OTL noir fiction wouldn't fit into the genre he's describing. Maybe that's not considered "logical reasoning" ratiocinic fiction ITTL? Like how Sci-fi/Fantasy/Horror have different genre boundaries here?

I was actually inspired by a 1924 OTL essay (not a lecture) by the mystery writer R. Austin Freeman (now forgotten but deserves to be better remembered IMO, influenced many others, though obviously some of his views were dodgy). Basically, like the speaker here, he starts with an impassioned defence of the genre.

THE STATUS in the world of letters of that type of fiction which finds its principal motive in the unravelment of crimes or similar intricate mysteries presents certain anomalies. By the critic and the professedly literary person the detective story — to adopt the unprepossessing name by which this class of fiction is now universally known — is apt to be dismissed contemptuously as outside the pale of literature, to be conceived of as a type of work produced by half-educated and wholly incompetent writers for consumption by office boys, factory girls, and other persons devoid of culture and literary taste.

That such works are produced by such writers for such readers is an undeniable truth; but in mere badness of quality the detective story holds no monopoly. By similar writers and for similar readers there are produced love stories, romances, and even historical tales of no better quality. But there is this difference: that, whereas the place in literature of the love story or the romance has been determined by the consideration of the masterpieces of each type, the detective story appears to have been judged by its failures. The status of the whole class has been fixed by an estimate formed from inferior samples.

What is the explanation of this discrepancy? Why is it that, whereas a bad love story or romance is condemned merely on its merits as a defective specimen of a respectable class, a detective story is apt to be condemned without trial in virtue of some sort of assumed original sin? The assumption as to the class of reader is manifestly untrue. There is no type of fiction that is more universally popular than the detective story. It is a familiar fact that many famous men have found in this kind of reading their favourite recreation, and that it is consumed with pleasure, and even with enthusiasm, by many learned and intellectual men, not infrequently in preference to any other form of fiction.

This being the case, I again ask for an explanation of the contempt in which the whole genus of detective fiction is held by the professedly literary. Clearly, a form of literature which arouses the enthusiasm of men of intellect and culture can be affected by no inherently base quality. It cannot be foolish, and is unlikely to be immoral. As a matter of fact, it is neither. The explanation is probably to be found in the great proportion of failures; in the tendency of the tyro and the amateur perversely to adopt this difficult and intricate form for their 'prentice efforts; in the crude literary technique often associated with otherwise satisfactory productions; and perhaps in the falling off in quality of the work of regular novelists when they experiment in this department of fiction, to which they may be adapted neither by temperament nor by training.

Later, he tries to explain why detective fiction writers use murder as a plot device so much when people criticise it as being unrealistic or bad taste:

The problem is usually concerned with a crime, not because a crime is an attractive subject, but because it forms the most natural occasion for an investigation of the kind required. For the same reason — suitability — crime against the person is more commonly adopted than crime against property; and murder — actual, attempted or suspected - is usually the most suitable of all. For the villain is the player on the other side; and since we want him to be a desperate player, the stakes must be appropriately high. A capital crime gives us an adversary who is playing for his life, and who consequently furnishes the best subject for dramatic treatment.

So yes I took a lot of inspiration from this, albeit updated in language and made more conversational.

Presumably where Panchala gets its idea of restricting access to foreign languages from. Panchala adopting “Consul” as its title for its Head of State seems a bit too on the nose

This is a translation of the actual title (which I haven't formulated yet but will be derived from 'Sangha' in Sanskrit for assembly). 'Consul' is just seen as the default title of the leader of a republican state in TTL.

I don't know if it's just me, but some of those sleepy French villages sound very much like Sandford being visited by Detective Nicholas Angel.

Wasn't an intentional reference, but then Hot Fuzz was partly drawing on the Christie trope of the sleepy village with a dark secret, and Christie's point expressed through Miss Marple that there is plenty of vicious human criminal impulse beneath the surface of the village setting. (She repeatedly annoys her worldly London-based nephew by calling him naive and inexperienced about the depths of human depravity, etc.)

 

[Thande]

Part #319: Siamese Sins

“Enjoy traditional Khon-dance performances at the Golden Wat, followed by tasting the exotic flavours of kaeng phet curry. Embrace the rich historical heritage of Ayu- (illegible, overlaid with: ) JUSTICE FOR ANNAM! FREE TRINH CUONG! STOP THE MASSACRES!”

- Advertising poster (graffiti’d) seen on Gooch Street, Fredericksburg, ENA.
Photographed and transcribed by Sgt Dominic Ellis, December 2020​

*

(Dr Wostyn’s note)

Turn off that damned noise, Bruno. Well, we’ve taken a look at events in China (grumbles to self) albeit not to the degree of detail they warrant… (normally) but we would be remiss if we did not consider what is widely thought of as this world’s second Asian great power. While I would prefer to focus on the era of 1926-1956 as we are covering at present, I must concede that it appears that present-day Siamese politics is unavoidably influencing how that history perceived among the people here and now…

*

Extract from recorded lecture on “Ayutthaya and the Other Side of the Story” by Wasan Boonsawad and Alice Thompson, recorded October 26th, 2020—

Yes, thank you – my apologies, ladies and gentlemen – I think that’s the last of them…a big thank you to the University security team.

Indeed, I am grateful as well. It seems there is nowhere on this earth that we can escape those…

Quite, quite. Well, never mind the late start. I’m sure we will all join me in welcoming Khun Boonsawad, Cultural Attaché at the Siamese Embassy. (Polite audience applause)

Thank you. For the avoidance of confusion, I should point out that Khun is a title rather than part of my name. It is also not necessary, Miss Thompson, you may refer to me simply as Nai.

Thank you, Kh – Nai Boonsawad. Well, er, Nai Boonsawad is here to talk to us about the history of Siam, and more particularly Ayutthaya.

I know the two are often confused here, and I think it is important for me to explain the difference. One can only truly understand the audacity of the ignorance and errors of those—

Ye-es, yes, we will get to that, Nai Boonsawad. I’m sure many people in the audience may already know a little of modern Siamese culture. Siamese cuisine and performing arts are becoming increasingly popular in the Empire of late.

And around the world, Miss Thompson.[1] For those of you who have enjoyed our music, our theatre and our food, I hope to provide a little enlightenment of the rich historical heritage that underpins where those treasures come from.

And we are very grateful for that, Kh – Nai Boonsawad.

I believe that is my cue to begin. (A few audience titters) Very well. Miss Thompson, if you could cue up my first slide – my apologies, I meant after the title slide – no, that’s too far – yes, that’s the one. Right.

I could go back many centuries to talk about the origins of the ethnic Thai peoples, of course, but that would be misleading. Modern Siam, after all, is not synonymous solely with Thai people. As a political unit, it did originate from the Thai state of Ayutthaya, to which additional components, both Thai and non-Thai, were later added. So it makes sense for me to begin with the foundations of Ayutthaya as a state.

Now, on this map you can see marked the cities of Ayutthaya, Lopburi and Suphanburi. In the thirteenth century by your calendar, which is the earliest time when we have written records of the Thai language, these three were rival, separate city-states. Traditional history records that Ayutthaya the nation-state was founded in the year 1351, more than two and a half centuries before the first English settlers arrived at Jamestown. (Audience murmurs)

Yet that is still young compared to many continuous nation-states of the Old World.[2]

Quite so; in some ways, Ayutthaya was, as you say, ‘late to the party’. (A few more audience titters) As I was saying, in 1351 those three city-states merged to form the nation-state of Ayutthaya, or the Ayutthaya Kingdom, under King Uthong.

But despite that early moment of hope, lack of unity has frequently been the scourge of Ayutthaya.

Yes, it is true. It illustrates how ill-informed those…individuals are, for, as you say, struggles over unity were common even when we were a purely Thai state. They are not truly matters of cultural independence, merely—

Yes, sorry, we’re getting off-topic.

For now…yes. Yes, in the beginning there was rivalry between the Uthong dynasty in Lopburi and the Suphannabhum dynasty in Suphanburi. Ayutthaya always faced a dichotomy of such internal strife coupled with battles against warmongering neighbours.

But sometimes it was the very threat from those neighbours that forced a sense of unity?

Yes, that’s true. Well, in the fifteenth century Ayutthaya fought wars with the Khmer Empire, that is, modern Cambodia, with the southern Malay sultanates, and with Lanna in the north.[3] The Kingdom of Lanna, the Land of a Million Rice Fields as the name means, were sometimes thought of as a Lao people at the time, but today are comfortable in their Thai identity. Somewhat culturally distinct as northerners from the people of old Ayutthaya, you understand, but certainly a comfortable part of the state. Which makes it all the more laughable that Ayutthaya’s other rivals at the time, the Cambodians and Malays—

Yes, yes. Lanna was more culturally influenced by the Indian states, wasn’t it?

At that time, yes. In, mm, between 1441 and 1474 there was a long on-again, off-again war between Ayutthaya and Lanna. At that time, King Trailokanat moved his residence to a forward position in the north to better prosecute the war. That became the city of Phitsanulok, which was spun off after the war as an autonomous state ruled by the Uparaja – you would say the crown prince. Notice that even from that time, the Ayutthai government was more than willing to grant appropriate devolved power and autonomy to regions providing they behaved responsibly and did not—

Yes, er, yes, Nai Boonsawad. You mentioned King Trailokanat. Perhaps we could clarify, er, for the people…?

What? Oh, yes. I know that people here in the Empire often think we simply name all of our kings interchangeably Sanphet, as sometimes the French are notorious for doing so with Louis. (Nervous audience laughter) In fact Sanphet is a title or a, ah, cognomen, not a name. It means the Omniscient and was originally a title associated with the Buddha. The Buddhist faith became integral to our culture and our monarchy throughout the centuries I will describe – but I will get to that later. Anyroad, King Trailokanat is also noteworthy because he started the Chatusadom cabinet system of governance in Ayutthaya, which has continued to form the basic pattern, with suitable modernisations, of government in Siam today.

Yes. You were talking about Lanna. Now unfortunately, Lanna also became a battlefield between Ayutthaya and your western neighbour, which we in the Empire mostly call Burma. At that time it was under the Toungoo dynasty?

That is right. But, though Burma had brief times of ascendant power, they were the exception rather than the rule. Even visitors from far Europe recognised the power and splendour of Ayutthaya. In the early 1500s their travel records name Ayutthaya as one of the three great powers of Asia, alongside Ming Dynasty China and the Bisnaga Empire.[4] This was the same Ming China that sailed vessels to far-flung lands, and their Admiral Zheng He founded a base in the Malay states that delayed their incorporation by Ayutthaya.[5] Even back then, we were both culturally influenced by China and a rival to Chinese interests. Burma was not on the same level.

But nonetheless there were defeats at the hands of Burma.

Yes, no nation can win every war…but Ayutthaya has always shown the ability to rise again. In, hmm, 1568-69 came the third of three wars between ourselves and Burma. That time, the Burmese won and took Ayutthaya. Their King Bayinnaung was a great military leader, a conqueror who built an empire. Yet, like Alexander, it did not long outlive him. Our future King Naresuan grew up in Burmese exile before he was permitted to return. He learned carefully from the Burmese and continued to exercise the military lessons of Bayinnaung after the Burmese themselves had forgotten them.

King Naresuan is considered one of your greatest monarchs, isn’t he?

One of the greatest monarchs of Ayutthaya, yes. He prevented some opportunistic attempts by Cambodians to attack when we were weak. Of course, this is before we were all friends. Then we rose against Burma and defeated them to win our freedom back, a nine years’ war from 1584 to 1593. King Naresuan fought a famous elephant duel with the Burmese crown prince.

Yes, I’ve seen pictures of that. I thought it wasn’t so much a duel as—

When he died in 1605, Naresuan left a proud legacy. Ayutthaya was not only free of the Burmese bootheel, but our – its – influence stretched across Lanna and Cambodia, and we were already establishing closer ties with the Malays.

Throughout all these years, Ayutthaya – ah – Siam was establishing its unique culture, wasn’t it? At the crossroads of influence between China and the Indian states?

Yes, that is true. Our culture is indeed unique, influenced by those outside forces but refining and preserving what is crude or neglected within them. We remember and honour the Buddha when his memory is trampled upon in his own homeland. We acknowledge the Hindu influence as well without setting the two at odds and causing pointless strife—

Yes, er, yes. I more meant on your cooking and…

Yes, it is true that Chinese traders visited us as early as the thirteenth century, for instance. Luk-jin marriages have left a, ah, is residue the right word, on our culture. Ayutthai and Chinese were mixing long before European and Chinese, leaving a – no, legacy – of hybrids long before the Gwayese people you may know better.

And your music—

That is a different matter. Yes, it was a golden age of literature and art. Medicine as well. But I must get back to where I was. The death of King Naresuan.

Er – yes. Wasn’t there an issue with disputed successions?

Several times, yes. A scourge of many countries. We were just talking about China. This very Empire was born from a succession dispute, was it not? (Audience reaction)

Er – I suppose you could put it that way…

Well, succession disputes in the seventeenth century did weaken us from within, it is true. There were also problems with the economic system of the day, where the royal power exercised a monopoly. European traders, like the Portuguese, started undermining that. King Songtham lost control of Lanna and Cambodia, the legacy of Naresuan, and decided to expel the Portuguese and instead pursue links with the French and English.

A more nuanced move than many Asian rulers at the time, I think – he understood he could not simply shut them all out.

Quite. One only has to look at the Japanese – the Yapontsi, you would say. (Audience murmurs) Oh, you in the Novamund like to buy their own propaganda that they were a backwards folk before they embraced the black flag, but that is simply to save their own face at the failure of their civilisation. Back in the sixteenth century they were invading Corea and threatening Ming China. (Sceptical audience reaction) Ayutthaya even offered to strike at the Japanese islands to aid the Ming Emperor. In the seventeenth century, Japanese mercenaries even formed the royal guard of the Ayutthai King.[6] With rather less disastrous results than in Russia! Yes, the Japanese had power, there is no mistaking it. And then, as you said, Miss Thompson, they thought they could simply hide from the world and ignore the existence of European traders through wishful thinking – and they paid for it with the very soul of their nation.

Er – I see. Um…that’s a contentious example, Khun Boonsawad. I was thinking more of old Qing China.

Ha, that is contentious in turn, Miss Thompson. But we must all have our own distinct definitions of controversy in this Diversitarian world, no? (Slightly more positive, but uncertain, audience reaction) Again, I know it is common to judge the Qing Chinese by their absurd northern descendants. But to do so would be – hmm – like judging Augustus Caesar by association with the corrupt Byzantine despots that came after him, no? In the eighteenth century, Ayutthaya had reason to consider Qing China a valued friend. But I am getting ahead of myself again.

The royal monopoly was endangered by new traders and mercenaries, as I said. Not only Europeans, but Persians as well. Foreign trade was increasing but there were many power struggles. In 1660, after the Qing takeover of China, the Qing invaded Burma to capture the last Ming imperial claimant who had taken refuge there. Seeing Burmese weakness, our King Narai tried to take back Lanna due to instability in Burma, but failed. He became very close to the French, as well as appointing a Greek, Constantine Phaulkon, as de facto chancellor. This upset the people, especially when matters of faith came into it – the Jesuits…the irony is that we rose up and overthrew a French-influenced, Catholic-influenced king in the very same year, 1688, that the English did.[7] I know that is part of your own historical identity by adoption. (A few sounds of acknowledgement)

That is a big part of your cultural identity’s association with Buddhism, isn’t it?

Yes, I think that’s true – it demonstrated that the Eightfold Path was not merely some notion of the elite, to fall away upon invasion or fashion as happened in some other countries. It was a rallying point for the common people, the birth, or recognition, of a national spirit. Of Ayutthaya, that is, rather than Siam. But I will get to that distinction.

The revolution was masterminded by Phetracha, a minister and general of elephants. But when he seized the throne himself, his rule was unstable and only contributed to infighting and decline. He tried to cut off Ayutthaya from European influence altogether, and we’ve already discussed where that path can end.

But Qing infuence increased?

Yes. In fact, there was an influx of Chinese colonists, farmers bringing new techniques. A useful addition, but also their manner of trade kept undermining the basis of our economy at the time, the centralised phrai system. Essentially, it created a new middle class, the phrai mangmi, who represented a challenge to the old order. There were popular revolts…

Yes, 1688 was only the first, wasn’t it?

Indeed. As we have seen in history so many times, when the revolutionary genie is first freed from the bottle, it is impossible to restore it, whether it works for or against the aims of those who freed it.

There were also military reversals, weren’t there?

Yes. A related matter. The kings saw elite military groups as a potential threat to them. Phetracha’s example was always in their mind – if one king could be overthrown, so could others. And so there were losing fights with the Nguyen-lords of Annam over influence in Cambodia.[8] The decline was obvious. The armouries were full of modern European weapons, modern for the 1750s that is, but they lacked trained soldiers to wield them, for the kings were afraid of soldies. The writing, as you say, was on the wall, and there was a new adversary. Burma, or Ava, was now under the control of the new Konbaung dynasty.

Founded by Alaungpaya, a mere village headman who rose to become a king by his own hand.

Yes, well, admirable as his social mobility may be (audience chuckles) the dynasty he founded was no friend to Ayutthaya. The Toungoo had been bad enough, but the Konbaung were worse. He invaded us in 1759 – over Tenasserim, the usual – and at least had the decency to die one year later and end the war because Burma collapsed into a succession struggle. Alaungpaya’s son Naungdawgyi had to put down several revolts, including one by Minkhaung Nawrahta – you English-speakers usually know him as Myat Htun – who managed to take the capital of Ava from Naungdawgyi. The king had to turn to help from the English East India Company to retake the city, and Minkhaung fled into exile in China.[9]

Qing China, that is.

Yes, I will come to that. Naungdawgyi managed to suppress the other revolts and then turned his attention to Ayutthaya again. We had been hamstrung by an unprepared army and a weak king, Ekkathat, who enjoyed his luxuries while our lands had burned. Ekkathat had shamefully surrendered to the Burmese in a second conflict to spare his own life. He has his revisionist defenders today, of course, who argue that by abasing himself he saved Ayutthaya from destruction. But the city is very difficult to besiege thanks to the monsoon season, and our defenders were fighting for their homeland. It does not convince me.[10]

And soon the Burmese triumph would be challenged.

Well, yes. Even at the time Naungdawygyi was invading, the Chinese were already attacking in turn at the behest of Minkhaung Nawrahta, seeking to overthrow the Konbaung and restore the Toungoo dynasty. It took several invasions to complete the task, but the Chinese armies were able to take Ava and eject the Konbaung, killing Naungdawgyi in the process. His brother Hsinbyushin became king of a Konbaung remnant and fell on Arakan, taking it over.[11]

But the short-lived Burmese empire was finished.

Yes. The Chinese had shattered the empire Alaungpaya had built. The Toungoo dynasty was restored in Ava, the Mon state of Pegu was broken away, the Chinese temporarily annexed the provinces they named Shanguo and Monguo,[12] and Ayutthaya was free to rise again and unite with Lanna in 1770. King Ekkathat had, mercifully, if I can say that, died during the Chinese invasions, and his brother Uthumphon returned from a monastery – again – to be a far superior king.

He ruled until his death in 1786, uniting and reforming the kingdoms, and was succeeded by Maha Ekatotaphak.

The Great.

Yes, he is certainly a central figure in Thai history…

Not merely Ayutthai or Thai history, but Siamese history. Together with Prachai Tangsopon, he founded the centralised Royal Army and eliminated the conflicting feudal loyalties that had plagued us for so long.

Which stood you in good stead when the Three Emperors’ War broke out in China.

Yes, as you call it in English. The Chinese had helped defend us when Konbaung Burmese-Arakan tried to invade in 1789. But now things had changed. The withdrawal of General Sun’s armies was daunting to us, especially when Phaungasa Min of the Konbaung promptly invaded Toungoo Ava again. King Ekatotaphak sought to unite the former Chinese vassal kingdoms to oppose the Konbaung. We could not save Ava, but we created what became known as the Threefold Harmonious Accord, Ayutthaya-Lanna, Pegu and Tonkin. Of course, things are different now, but that was the beginning.[13]

The beginning of the Siamese Empire?

That is what Europeans called it, long before there truly was a political union. You must understand that the term Siam has never been used by us for ourselves, any of us. It began with the Portuguese, who may have taken it from the Chinese or an Indian language. Some say it means Land of Gold. A fitting name, perhaps, but nothing to do with the Thai people. Yet it has become a useful label. Precisely because Siam meant nothing to us, it is a usefully inclusive name to apply to our current state, our country of countries, our nation of nations, in which the Thai, the Viet, the Malay and the Cambodian can all stand equally. (Audience murmurs)

Ye-yes. Uh, and speaking of how the Cambodians…

That came later. But in the short term, as well as defending against the Konbaung Burmese, the Accord also protected Tonkin from the Nguyen Annamese…that was before we were all friends, of course.

Of course. Er, and the Accord continued to strengthen in subsequent years, didn’t it?

We were strong and well-organised, but we were also fortunate in our neighbours and our history, it must be admitted. Of course, one might argue that inner harmony reflects outer harmony…the ongoing strife in China, with the Feng revolt and Yu Wangshan in Yunnan; the fact that the British, and later you Americans, were content to impose peaceful trade on the Burmese as you grew stronger in Bengal; the Dutch and Portuguese falling apart in the East Indies and allowing us to unite the peninsular Malays and gain control over Aceh and its pepper trade in 1846.[14] These were profound moments of solidarity that built Siam as it is today. We were a powerful force opposing further European colonial encroachment. We stood up to the ICPA when they tried to declare all the world Europe’s waters in 1821. Or look what happened to the Belgians when they tried to take over Annam and Cambodia. We liberated them in the 1850s and humiliated Maximilian at sea.[15]

But there was still another war with the Burmese, wasn’t there?

Yes, in 1829-1830, at the time of what you call the Popular Wars. General Yu’s warlord regime in Yunnan had collapsed and we prevented the Burmese from trying to take over. Of course, what to do with Yunnan, then, when the Qing remnant was far away and we did not recognise the Feng…temporarily, of course, we hoped a Yunnanese government would join the Accord.[16]

The Feng Chinese did not like that, did they?

No. That was the first Feng War. 1838 to 1842…

We call it the First Sino-Siamese War.

Yes, you would, but we did not consider the Feng to truly be China, of course. Not at that time.

But they still won.

Sadly so – starting a long-running conflict over the border in Tonkin, taking Yunnan for themselves and sparking rebellions. King Sunthon had to work hard to hold the Accord together, but it emerged from the experience strengthened. A united Siamese Empire in truth, not merely the name that Europeans had given it before.

Yes, the rebellious lands were annexed, weren’t they? (Awkward pause) I assume the unification was probably helped by technological modernisation.

Yes, we were not so foolish as to turn our noses up at innovation merely because it came from outside. Railways, steam engines and modern weapons made a significant difference. No longer were we a land of mandalas, of isolated city states held together only by loose feudal links. That reform took many years, under many monarchs, but it was finally accomplished.

Well, barons wanting to hold control over their lands and serfs are a problem that has plagued the mondernisation of many nations...

Indeed. But in the end we were successful. We were able to demonstrate the beginnings of our new unity in 1844, when we prevented the Portuguese imperialists from trying to take over Timor.[16]

The Timor War, yes, which means Siam was partly responsible for kicking off the Pânico de '46 and the Portuguese Revolution.

I will not apologise for it. They deserved everything they did to themselves for what they tried to do to…

Yes, yes, all right. But things changed when the UPSA began interfering in the region, yes?

For better and for worse. They had taken over the Philippines and were doing deals with the Batavian Dutch. We protected the Malays from encroachment, of course, as happened with the Sultanates of Sulu and Mataram, locked into unequal treaties… [17]

But you did trade with the Meridians.

Not to the extent that outsiders seem to think. They seemed to make us a member of the Hermandad, a treaty we never signed.

On paper no, but, well, economic policy often suggested an alignment. The Pandoric War—

Do not get me started on the start of the Pandoric War! It was a nonsense and should never have gone further than that accursed mountainside. Besides, that is getting ahead of ourselves. In 1869 we showed just how strong we had grown by taking on the Feng once again and winning back territory in Tonkin. Our navy humiliated the Feng at sea.[18]

An impressive victory, indeed. But probably one that illustrated to the Chinese – to the Feng – the flaws in their own navy, resulting in a different outcome next time?

That is the way of the world. But that era was not merely about war for the sake of war. It was about demonstrating to the wider world that Siam was a national entity, worthy of respect and possessing a seat at the table of the high places of diplomacy. Without our protection, lands such as Annam and Cambodia would unquestionably have fallen into the hands of outside colonisers, as the Belgians tried and failed to. (Audience murmurs) They would not have been treated as equals by Europeans or Novamundines. A Cambodian might speak of his land’s great culture and history. Yes, indeed, and the temple of the Angkor Wat is a great wonder of the world, one of the greatest achievements of human hands. But so is the Parthenon in old Greece, and that did not prevent Greece’s subjugation. The Europeans of the time might prate about civilisation, but all they truly respected was force.

I think...

I have already spoken of the Japanese, the old Yapontsi. Once a great power of Asia, no matter the sceptical looks you cast my way. Reduced to a land of serfs under foreign rule, before...

Perhaps we can get off this topic. What about the political reforms made at the time?

Those were also important, yes. I have spoken about the political unification, first with Lanna, Chiangmai and Tenasserim, then with Pegu, Cambodia, Annam and Tonkin, and finally Malaya. I also alluded to the creation of a modern state rather than the feudal web of mueang-mandalas and tax farmers. As you said, it is a problem that many lands have faced. One cannot build a lasting national society on such a foundation, as it will sink and shatter every time there is a royal succession.

There were changes to society, weren’t there?

Many changes. We were stuck with old, inefficient ways of doing things. Slavery, serfdom, corvée labour, torture in our judicial system. (Audience murmurs) I do not judge the men who practised such things as some of you might. We did not live their lives, we do not wear their shoes. Moral judgement is to be practised on those who share our own time and have the same choices we do, not our grandfathers who would have dreamed of things we take for granted as unimagined luxuries.

Er, I see. But Siam did move away from those practices?

There were a number of reforms, yes, under multiple kings. I will stick to the titles you Americans mostly know them by. Sanphet X, the sun of King Sunthon, abolished most forms of slavery in 1850. We had seen how divisions over the practice had ripped this country apart, frankly, and we wished to avoid the same happening to us.[19] (Audience murmurs) That was only part of a broader series of reforms attacking the sakdina social caste system, which is now consigned to the past.

Is that truly the case, Khun Boonsawad? We still often hear of discrimination in the courts against those of phrai descent...

And I could look around and see that this building, and the street it is on, are named after some of the same First Families of Virginia who continue to exert a disproportionate influence over politics and public life here, no? (Audience reaction)

I...

I am sorry. I do not wish to be too confrontational or to accuse you of hypocrisy. Merely that the lingering remnants of feudalism are a problem that confront us all. We have seen where the path of embracing societal hierarchy as some sort of ‘natural law’ leads. (Murmurs of agreement) We know we must avoid it, and divorce our spiritual understanding from such ideas. One’s station on the Wheel is not one’s station in society.

I...yes. (Coughs) Did you say that King Sanphet X started those reforms in 1850? I thought he did not take the throne until-

I was chronologically imprecise, perhaps. But that conveniently leads us onto another reform. Traditionally in Ayutthaya, the – ah – the heir presumptive, the uparaja, you would say the crown prince – possessed a role euphemistically called the Wang Na, the Front Palace.[20]

Back then it was a kind of viceroy or deputy king, wasn’t it?

Yes, in a way. Under Sanphet XI it was reformed so that the title of Front Palace was distinct from that of crown prince. The King wanted to make the succession more predictable and less subject to change, while still being able to change out his Front Palace. Sometimes the Uparaja was still made Front Palace, but more usually a different noble was chosen, helping share power with other parts of the empire.

But there was also a prime minister as well, wasn’t there?

Yes, the Front Palace title is usually conflated with prime minister in your sources because of what came later. But in the nineteenth century there was still the unreformed Chatusadom cabinet system which included the Samuha Nayok or true prime minister. He ruled over the four old ministries with their ministers for police, faith, finance and farming.[21] Sanphet XI also reformed the Chatusadom in 1875 after the war with the Feng, creating new ministries and defining the role of the Samuha Nayok. He knew that Siam needed to shift towards constitutional monarchy and began introducing elected local councils on the basis of the new amphoe divisions , although we would not have a true central parliament until the Grand Sapha was created in 1906.[22]

That was after the Red Sash Brigades, wasn’t it?

Yes, we’re getting out of order. The late nineteenth century, the Long Peace as you call it – it wasn’t as long for us...

No, there was a war with France after the one with China, wasn’t there?

In 1879 and 1880. It did not last long, and fortunately the only result was that the boundary of Singapur was better delineated, and Siamese control of the rest of Malaya recognised. All of Europe had no problem acknowledging that then-

Er, yes...but there was a naval battle, wasn’t there?

Our men fought bravely, but our naval technology had fallen behind. There had still been debates about armourclads, but now it became clear that wooden ships or even early armourclads were obsolete. Coming off the back of the war with the Feng in which our navy had triumphed, it was a wake-up call to modernise.[23]

And the UPSA was involved at the peace treaty.

Another misconception, the idea that we only survived due to Meridian support. A simple piece of racialist chauvinism. No, we had proven to the European colonisers that we were a force to be reckoned with, defiant even when we lost so many ships. No. We were never that close to the Hermandad, though some of our people felt we were. As I was saying, this period was also a golden age for theatre and radical literature. Authors such as Chuan Phaya or the poet Sakchai Bualong-

Wasn’t they both put in prison for what they wrote?

As I said, I do not judge past generations. We held the WorldFest in Thonburi in 1892 and took our rightful place among the great powers of Asia. The railways united us, the new schools system brought children from poor families into a wider world of knowledge and opportunity, as is right. It was a golden age in many ways, and then it was brought to an end by that disgraceful act by a gang of mercenaries atop a mountain along a disputed border. (Murmurs from audience)

I know that you hold the killing of David Braithwaite to be a great crime, and you are correct to do so. It would be my profound wish, if I could turn back time and change history like those silly authors imagine, that King Sanphet XII and Front Palace Phon Singhanat simply disown those mercenary fools, even apologise to the Feng and to your people. But in truth that decision was not theirs to make, as the war spread and escalated too quickly. Every man had an inherited grudge, every man had convinced himself that he could win a quick victory to satisfy it. And the result, discord, disharmony, oceans of blood.

Er – well put, sir.

The Pandoric War, as you call it, was a disaster for Siam. We fought bravely for years, and in the end all we had to show for it was territorial losses in Tonkin, sunk ships in the East Sea, and too many young men who would never come home to their families. Frankly, I do not wish to dwell on it.

It left a profound effect on our society. One positive was that it welded us more tightly together as a nation. Men from old Ayutthaya, Lanna, Malaya, Cambodia and more had fought alongside one another and saw each other as brothers. We still celebrate our bittersweet Warriors’ Day, no matter the sadness, to remember that unity...

Were the Red Sashes a part of that unity?

(A pause) You have, as you would say, put your finger on a delicate point. The Red Sashes were mostly angry young men, veterans understandably upset that their sacrifice had ended in defeat. They blamed the defeat on the decadence of some nobles in Ayutthaya, war profiteers. They were not entirely wrong, of course, but they exaggerated the point. They called them white elephants, like the one which adorns our flag, showing contempt for the sacred.[24] And they hated monks and wat-temples, called them parasites and burned them. No matter how badly they had been treated, nothing can justify such contempt for the way of peace or the state which protects us. If they had been allowed to seize power, Siam would have come to regret it.[25]

They almost sound like the Romulans in Italy, later on.

It is a fair point. If so, all we can do is be thankful that our steps were guided to avoid that dark fate. The King appeased them by taxing the rich and providing further reforms, including the creation of the Grand Sapha. He then drew upon them to face the challenges to the south. With the fall of the UPSA, the Batavian Republic had collapsed, and we knew we must preserve all we could from the coming nightmare. It is by our hand that any Nusantaran culture has survived at all, our defence of Sumatra against the Societist hordes and their hatred of all history and heritage, their massacre of memory.[26] We also forged an alliance with the Philippine Republic and its Meridian Refugiados. We had never been close to the UPSA in its life, but its legacy owed homage to us in its afterlife. Perhaps that is one reason why so many folk make the error of thinking we were ever part of the Hermandad.

Er – perhaps. What was the First Interbellum like in Siam?

Well, can one even call it an Interbellum? There was a continuous low-level war against the Societists in and around the Nusantara, which would continue for most of the century. Siam has fought them for longer and more consistently than any nation on Earth. (Mixed audience reactions) It is a point of pride, and again, a sign of unity.

But there were peaceful developments...the invention of the groovedisc...

Yes, it meant that our gum-lacquer plantations saw record profits and expansion. We ourselves were a little uncertain what to make of recorded music at first, and there were still social restrictions which meant that we never quite shared the Flippant culture that made it to the Feng, for better or for worse.

To China?

Well, at this point we had to concede and recognise that they were the only legitimate Chinese government, much as we did not like the fact!

I see. Siam was also a centre of aerocraft innovation, was it not?

Yes, despite the bitterness of the, ah, the Pandoric War, one area in which we could console ourselves was how our aerocraft had outstripped those of the Feng. Aerocraft would be important in our conflicts with the Societists as well. Science and technology in general were growth areas, coming hand in hand with our trade investment in what was then the International Guntoor Region. Our motivations should be obvious. It had become clear that Siam could not rely on reliable trade deals with any external power,[27] and innovation must be in our own hands.

Which would pay dividends in the Black Twenties.

Indeed. Before then came the Panic of 1917 and the Treaty of Guiling.

France provided a loan, didn’t it?

We have learned from our history not to become too dependent on French goodwill. (A few audience chuckles) It was a tit-for-tat agreement. France thought she could buy our neutrality against the Feng – against China, as part of her grand strategy of Russian containment. We had already concluded we dd not intend to fight China, but let us take her money. And if she negotiated for the return of parts of the lands lost in the Pandoric War, why not?

Er – yes. So Siam was neutral in the Black Twenties. (Audience murmurs)

Again – to say so implies we were at peace. We were never at peace. We were always fighting the Societists.

I – yes. But your scientists were able to develop...

Yes, we developed the first plague vaccine. It was a great and proud achievement for the University of Ayutthaya and our other researchers. Finally, Europe and the Novamund had to humble themselves and acknowledge our equality to them.[28]

It was a proud achievement I am sure, and Siam’s response to the plague was widely admired. But there was also the matter of the One-Way Hajj.

That is an offensive propaganda term. No country which was comfortably free from accommodating those hordes of refugees should deign to pass judgement on the troubles of those which were.

I – well...

Muslims have a duty to seek out Mecca, so I am told. We gave them one out of the goodness of our hearts as good Buddhists seeking right resolve. And now the leaders of the Federation speak glowingly of how their cuisine has been enhanced by nasi goreng restaurants amid the desert cities of Araby. What a favour we did for them. (Audience murmurs)

I – er – um...

Of course there were deaths. There were deaths everywhere! It was a pandemic! We suffered alongside others. What of the people who complained that we were spending on boats for Muslims when good Buddhists were dying in their homes? We could have followed their pressure and thrown the poor Javanese overboard. We did not. (Increasing audience murmurs)

Er – perhaps we should change the subject. What about the alliance with Bengal?

Ah. Now that is a complicated matter. You are referring to the accord signed in 1924.[29] Again, it was the right thing to do, but some of the consequences...it is difficult to say.

The accord was signed to coordinate plague responses?

At first. Greater things came from it. For so long, we had been de facto enemies of Bengal. We saw Bengal as a front for English influence, and later American influence. (Audience reaction) Of course, we are all friends now. After your President Faulkner pulled out (More reaction) things changed. Bengal began to shift to authentic native rule, to take her place among the Asian nations. We are proud that we helped shepherd her on that path through our alliance. We Asians understood the value of Diversitarianism long before you Novamundines, or the Europeans. Just as we had preserved Nusantaran culture in Sumatra as we fought the Societists, we helped nations in India recover their dignity and independence. We owe them a cultural and spiritual debt, no matter how misguided some of their leaderships might be.

But the link with Bengal changed geopolitics, didn’t it?

It did. We had been opponents for so long. Konbaung-Burma had been a puppet of Bengal, reduced to a border march almost. And parts of the Siamese Empire, perhaps, remained loyal to the King-Emperor precisely because of the threat from Bengal and her allies. I hope I made clear earlier just how many, and how often, wars were fought between us and the Burmese going back centuries. But war had become bad for business, both for Bengal and ourselves. We had not directly fought the Burmese since 1841, more than eighty years.[30] Can you imagine how profound a change that was? How it helped so many of our people develop in peace? Now, unintentionally, the agreement with Bengal threatened to knock the props of that peace away. People are short-sighted. Especially Burmese people.

Er...

My Diversitarian right, of course! (Slightly nervous audience laughter)

Er...yes. But it was not truly peace, was it? Not with the Societists...

No, that is true, of course. Even after Sumatra was secured, the low-level conflict continued, long before the world as a whole recognised the Quiet War. The Threefold Eye was forever bent on us, jealous that we had pushed its gaze out of Sumatra and Mindanao when on every other front it had advanced.

Uh, except some parts of Africa, I think...and the Societists also tried to take over Formosa, didn’t they?

In 1945. A bad business. If the Feng – the Chinese – had seen fit to share more intelligence with us, it could have been prevented. At least the attempt failed. Formosa could have been another Java, another Cuba, another Jamaica. (Audience murmurs) Yes, you had to deal with island refugees fleeing Societist rule yourself, didn’t you? (More hostile sounds)

I, I, think we should talk about what else was happening at this time. The, uh, the Electric Circus age, as some people call it.

Electricity was slower to come to us. As you rightly pointed out, we were still fighting a war. Low-level, it is described as, but it did not seem that way to the families bereaved of young men. And not only Thai families, of course, I honour the contributions made by the other nations under Siam. Nonetheless, electric power did begin to transform Siam, all of Siam. Ayutthaya and Thonburi shone with artificial light for the first time, then Chiangmai, Phitsanulok, Tavoy...Phnom Penh, Phuxuan and Penang...factories to employ the people, refrigeration to preserve food and make life more bearable in the summers...it was transformative.[31]

And you also introduced new forms of transport?

Yes. Railways had already changed things, as I said, and we introduced those to Sumatra. But we also approached aero travel in a way different to the way you did in the West. We had built many large aerocraft, both conventional dromes and seadromes, to transport groups of elite strike marines during the worst of the island-hopping conflicts with the Societists. Some of them had now become obsolete, and the nature of the war had mostly shifted to the sea – and beneath it. We had many trained pilots looking for work. So Royal Siamese Aerolines was created to make use of the dromes and pilots. We had not built so many concrete aeroports as other nations did,[32] so many of our early flights were with seadromes landing at seaports and on rivers. Nonetheless, we were able to offer tickets at cheaper prices than in most lands, and it is a proud boast that even Siamese subjects of modest income were able to see the world from above.

Those early flights were also hazardous, weren’t they?

They were, as they were in all lands. But perhaps that is part of the reason why there was a new spiritual awakening in our wats and stupas, a new realisation of how precious and fragile our world is – and our own lives are. Green jungles, blue seas, white clouds; they called it the Three Hues, I think I am translating that correctly.

I have heard Tri-colour Way, but I suspect it’s hard to translate. People have probably seen the tricolour flags hanging on Siamese Buddhist temples in films, at least.

Film, yes, film was another big change in that era. We were swift to embrace the technology in the 1910s but our studios did not reach the heights they are famous for until the 1930s and 40s.[33] I am sure everyone here will be familiar with the epic historical dramas of Teerawat Krungget and Dulyarit Khawlaor, some of which depict events I’ve been talking about like the various Burmese wars. (Polite but noncommittal audience reaction)

Er – yes, or, for instance, the Muay martial arts films of Suphachai Karaket? (Much more enthusiastic audience reaction) Or all the musicals with the lovely Suteeya Suphalak? (Audience reaction now includes lecherous sounds)

Hmmph…not the most culturally refined of examples you might have picked, Miss Thompson, but I will concede that there is no such thing as bad cultural influence, perhaps? Film captured the imagination of our land in the 1940s and helped us make our mark on the world. Music took longer, as I said. None of this is exclusively Thai, of course. Many of our cultural touchstones are of Annamese or Cambodian origin, or Malay, which only makes it more...

Ah – but conflict was coming, wasn’t it? When the Crash of 1956 happened...

It was a bad time for everyone. I will not apologise for the deterioration of relations. It was not a repudiation of the Treaty of Guiling, as some claim. Rather, that treaty had never defined the border running through the mountain ranges, through Shan and Mon lands and the Feng-controlled Yunnan province.

That same border that caused the tragedy of the Pandoric War?

...Yes. As technology advanced – not only railways or even aerocraft, but now even sending artificial moons into space to look down on us – border ambiguities could no longer be tolerated. After the Crash, the King had reformed governance again to appease the people...the Sapha grew in power, and the Front Palace was merged with the role of Samuha Nayok, now appointed by the Sapha. We had political parties for the first time, and the Red Garuda Party felt that economic provocations by the Feng had grown too blatant to be ignored. Their embrace of an atavistic Nanyue identity, their interference in the parts of Tonkin they had rightly given up by treaty...

Are you saying that it was the will of the people that war came?

In a sense. It is not the Buddhist way, it is not right resolve. But perhaps, when they saw that...certain parts of the Empire seemed determine to break away as soon as an outside threat diminished, some misguided folk decided to provide one...









[1] What is carefully not brought up here is that this is partly thanks to initiatives funded by the Siamese government precisely with that intention. The OTL Thai government has become known for doing the same since the turn of the twenty-first century, albeit more specifically for cuisine rather than the arts as well.

[2] This kind of historiography is less prevalent in OTL when discussing Thailand, because although there was a great deal of cultural continuity between Ayutthaya and the modern Thai state founded in Thonburi-Bangkok after Ayutthaya’s conquest by the Burmese, it is still a sufficiently dramatic break point that Thailand is not usually held up as a continuously existing nation-state in the same way China (also not outright colonised by Europeans) is.

[3] Lanna is usually transliterated as Lan Na in modern OTL sources.

[4] ‘The Bisnaga Empire’ refers to the Vijayanagara Empire (1336-1646). Historiography in TTL has a vested interest in implying a sense of (interrupted) continuity between that state and the modern post-French colonial state of Bisnaga in southern India, which has somewhat similar borders. Note that while ‘Bisnaga’ is a Lusitanised and contracted Portuguese reading of ‘Vijayanagara’, it is still anachronistic to use in this sense because even the Portuguese at the time referred to the Vijayanagara Empire as ‘Narasinga’ due to confusion with the name of one of its rulers, not ‘Bisnaga’.

[5] This is a diplomatic way of saying that Zheng He’s base warned the Ayutthais off trying anything, and any actual Ayutthai conquest of the Malays would take centuries more.

[6] Referring to Yamada Nagamasa, a seventeenth-century adventurer who helped establish a Japanese colony (including many exiled Japanese Christians) in what is now southern Thailand. This ultimately led to a breakdown of relations between the Japanese Shogunate and Ayutthaya, into which vacuum the Dutch stepped. These parts of history are often little known in TTL, largely because they contradict the standard narrative of Japanese history.

[7] As previously mentioned in Part #270 in Volume VII.

[8] ‘Annam’ is typically used in present-day English in TTL to refer to the whole of central and southern Vietnam, with the north described as Tonkin. ‘Annam’ originally meant all of Vietnam, but this distinction was created due to Tonkin being the part disputed with Feng China in later wars. The term Cochinchina, which was used by contemporary Europeans to describe the southern realm de facto ruled by the Nguyens in this era (Đàng Trong in Vietnamese) has faded from use.

[9] A key divergence passed over here is that the EIC agreed to help Naungdawgyi. The EIC was still angry with him over the massacre of British traders at Negrais the year before, Their envoy Captain Walter Alves demanded an apology and reparations, which Naungdawgyi was unwilling to give (though he did release some British prisoners). In OTL, the EIC decided that the Burma trade was not important enough to push the issue, as Britain now effectively had a trade monopoly regardless. In TTL, with the French victories or stalemates in the eighteenth century wars in India, the British EIC still has genuine competition and trade with Konbaung Burma is a prize worth fighting for. Thus in TTL, the EIC manages to patch things up with King Naungdawgyi and supply him with weapons, which subtly but significantly changes the course of the conflict. See Interlude #5 in Volume I; note that the text in that interlude mistakenly conflates Minkhaung with Hsinbyushin.

[10] In OTL, Naungdawygi died in 1763 and was succeeded by his brother Hsinbyushin. Ekkathat also tried to surrender in OTL but was turned down by Hsinbyushin, whose armies burned and looted the city of Ayutthaya. While the Thai people did bounce back relatively few years later under the leadership of Taksin the Great, with a new dynasty and capital at Thonburi-Bangkok, this traumatic end to the 417-year-long Ayutthaya Kingdom had a profound impact on the Thai identity. In TTL, due to the different course of the wars and a different calculation, Naungdawgyi elects to accept the surrender, and Ayutthaya city is spared.

[11] In OTL, the Chinese invasions were effectively defeated by Hsinbyushin, though Burma formally agreed to become a Qing vassal afterwards to save face. While this didn’t stop Siam/Thailand from bouncing back relatively quickly, the continuing powerful Burmese state was a substantial opponent for the British in Bengal. TTL is a very significant change, with the Chinese building a series of vassal states in the region (later taken over by Ayutthaya) and the Konbaung reduced to effectively a vassal state of British Bengal.

[12] Technically the Chinese wouldn’t have used those names at the time, these are later half-translations implying the two are independent states.

[13] See Part #93 in Volume II.

[14] See Part #113 in Volume III. Note that by this point, the Siamese were allied with the exilic Batavian Dutch Republic in the East Indies, despite the anti-colonial rhetoric.

[15] See Part #163 in Volume IV (it was more the Batavian Dutch who did the sea raids).

[16] …by helping the Batavian Dutch imperialists who were already there.

[17] This is a very revisionist take, as Sulu and Mataram (among others) were just as concerned about Siamese encroachment, and indeed the Batavian Dutch had as many ties to Siam as they did to the UPSA.

[18] See Part #203 in Volume V. This time it really was the Siamese naval forces responsible for the victory.

[19] This also happened in OTL. King Rama V (Chulalongkorn) of Thailand phased out the Thai slavery system beginning in 1874 due to his concerns that slavery had ignited the bloodshed of the American Civil War. The process was gradual and not completed until the 1910s; here, the earlier start helps ensure slavery is ended earlier – at least in the core Ayutthaya, but not necessarily in the peripheral parts of the Siamese Empire.

[20] This is a parallel evolution of the same term as OTL, which only dates from 1782, because the heir presumptive had a palace built (in OTL in Thonburi-Bangkok) in front of the king’s. However, that tradition of layout did go back to Ayutthaya, so it is reasonable that the name could have caught on even though the capital remains there in TTL. Prior to this, the usual euphemism for the heir presumptive was ‘the Great Auspicious Place’ (Krom Phrarajawang Bovorn Sathan Mongkol). Note that the old form of the Front Palace never quite gained the level of power and influence it did in OTL under the Rattanakosin Period, until it was abolished by Rama V in the ‘Front Palace Crisis’ in 1874.

[21] This is a loose translation of the titles of the ministries, whose roles did not map quite so neatly to portfolios as this (as is common with other unreformed cabinets of the period).

[22] ‘Grand Sapha’ is a half-translation (‘sapha’ means council and is used with various prefixes to refer to different levels of national and local government in Thai). ‘Sapha’ is usually left untranslated in English in TTL as it’s a well-known metonymic parliamentary term associated with Siam, similar to ‘Duma’ for Russia or ‘Sejm’ in Poland in OTL. In OTL the first Thai national elections took place in 1931, but initially political parties were not legal and a large slice of the representatives were appointed by the King. In TTL the body is wholly elected from the start (albeit on a restrictive franchise) but is initially largely just a rubber-stamp.

[23] See Part #217 in Volume V; this is alluding to the Battle of Penang in the Franco-Siamese War.

[24] The Ayutthai flag was originally a plain red banner. In OTL various combinations of a white chakra symbol, a white elephant and stripes were added to make it more distinctive after the refounding of Siam at Thonburi-Bangkok, and the central stripe was changed to blue during the First World War. Supposedly the elephant was removed due to concerns that the flag could be flown upside-down, which would be inauspicious symbolism. In TTL, a white elephant has simply been added to the plain red flag in the 1870s to form the Siamese flag.

[25] See Part #255 in Volume VII.

[26] The fact that the Siamese conquest started before the Societists were in any position to try to take over the Nusantara, of course, merely represents commendable foresight. In reality, Siam was fighting an (also) expansionist Mataram for years before the Societists moved in.

[27] Like the one with the UPSA/Hermandad which Siam definitely did not have.

[28] See Part #285 in Volume VIII. Of course, this carefully doesn’t mention that Siam brought in researchers from overseas or that the plague pandemic probably started in the first place due to renewed Sino-Siamese trade via Yunnan.

[29] See Part #292 in Volume VIII. Note that Boonsawad’s interpretation of Siam’s motivations are somewhat different to those given in the source for that segment.

[30] In OTL the endemic Burmese-Siamese wars, which began in 1547, came to an end in 1855 (largely because the British Empire had subordinated Burma after two wars, and would later take it over outright in a third).

[31] Phuxuan is an older name of the Vietnamese city now known as Hue, Tavoy is an older transliteration of the Tenasserim city now spelled Dawei (and part of Burma/Myanmar in OTL). Boonsawad probably picked some of these for alliterative value rather than necessarily always being the largest and most important cities.

[32] Due to neutrality in the Black Twenties conflicts.

[33] In OTL Thailand was an early adopter of cinema but its ‘golden age’ of cinema is similarly considered to be the 1930s, with another way of innovation in the 1970s.

 

[Thande]

(If this post goes onto the next page, please note part #319 is posted above)

This is a note that after the next update, 320, in a fortnight's time, LTTW will then go on hiatus until at least September because I will be going on holiday and then have jury duty soon afterwards. This will also give me some time to think through a few concepts I want to cover. We will resume in hopefully September and then I intend to finish Volume IX by the end of 2023 (or just after). I hope you are enjoying this volume so far!

 

[Analytical Engine]

Enjoy your holiday, Thande.

 

[Kriegdämmerung]

Well well well, what have we here? A Siam update? About time!

Excellent update Thande! As a general theme, the tone taken by the Siamese attaché reminds me immensely of both some of the Myanmar bureaucrats I dealt with during the Rohingya crisis, as well as Southeast Asians general attitudes to one another (at least when it comes to stereotypes). Not sure if that was what you were going for, but very well done, sir.

We also seem to know a lot more about the events around, and post, Sunrise War, namely that:

1. Having Japanese bodyguards didn't work out well for the Russian Tsar...that's one way to blow up a city
2. China and Siam got into a bad enough pissing match that even by *2020, calling the Feng "China" is not a line the government wishes to pursue

Very curious for the next update(s) and enjoy the holiday!