Where they always got along

The District of Rueso turned the clock back 30 years over the last two weeks, giving the locals – Malays, Chinese, Thais – a chance to recall “the good old days” and consider that, just the same, things really haven’t changed much at all. 

Despite the worrying unrest in Narathiwat and the neighbouring provinces, the social fabric that bound them together throughout the years remains intact. 

Rueso continues to be one of the key commercial centres in Thailand’s southernmost province. The Sai Buri River flows on, as does the train rolling to and from Bangkok.

Chinese merchants settled here four generations ago and invested in rubber factories. They and their children learned to speak Malay. 

Their migration coincided with the rise of the first generation of Malay Muslim separatists, but any violent clashes were mainly with government security forces.

Local historian Najib Bin Ahmad says many of the Malays and Chinese in Rueso were educated in Penang, Malaysia, and were influenced by ideologies then common across British Malaya, especially in terms of community relations – and democracy. He says they weren’t swayed by Thailand’s nationalistic hype, instead placing the interests of their community above patriotism for the country as a whole.

The first wave of insurgency swept through the region in the early 1990s. The latest generation of separatists surfaced just a decade ago and, this time around, the theatre of violence is no longer confined to remote areas. The gunfire and bomb explosions have shifted into towns and cities across the South and taken their toll on race relations within this highly contested Muslim-majority zone.

Rueso has witnessed its fair share of violence, but as the local community tries hard to show – like they did at the festival of goodwill this past week – the citizens still get along well.

The Rueso Festival, wrapped in nostalgia, had stalls selling traditional foods all around the City Hall compound. Well-known restaurateurs who had moved on to bigger and better ventures were coaxed into cooking up the popular old recipes once again.

Vintage photos in fresh frames were hung at the civic headquarters, and an ancient refrigerator hummed at its toils – powered by gasoline. Old-fashioned bicycles were tried out for the first time in ages.

Local VIPs took turns on a stage talking about cherished bygone times, about how Rueso – which the residents call Jaba – had to strive to survive the various challenges that arose.

Dechrat Simsiri, now governor of next-door Yala, is a native of Rueso. He was there recalling an incident that occurred more than three decades ago: A separatist cell kidnapped him and held him for ransom. One of those kidnappers, he pointed out, is now a member of a tambon administrative organisation in the area.

Kitti Chokwattana, who was district chief of Rueso 33 years ago, said he made it compulsory that every village had a tadeka – a Muslim kindergarten. “It was a common sight back then to see Buddhist novices and young Muslim religious students in long traditional white gowns walking side by side,” he said.

There aren’t as many young people in Rueso now. That’s one thing that’s changed. Many have moved to bigger places to get work. 

In its heyday, in the 1970s, Rueso boasted a movie theatre, a Chinese opera house and three photo studios. There were half a dozen clearinghouses and related outlets where the rubber tappers sold their produce.

The Chinese merchants often used to say, “We’ll be in trouble if the Malayus [Malays] start wearing trousers.” It was an acknowledgement that change was inevitable, and sure enough, today more and more Malays in the district are businessmen. 

The Chinese families are still primarily in charge of commerce, but the Malays sense no inequality, Najib says. They achieved a delicate comfort level over the years.

Interestingly, the Malay and Thai/Chinese residents share an apprehension about outsiders, especially government bureaucrats. The civil servants have a track record of buying up properties, exploiting resources for personal gain and then leaving.

The ongoing insurgency, says Najib, is essentially about Thailand’s failure in its efforts to build a nation-state to accommodate the Malay historical and cultural narrative.

The citizens of Rueso have shown that they can live together amicably and work things out among themselves without the involvement of the state.

So there is widespread disdain here for media treatment of the southern insurgency as a “crime story”, a convenient ignoring of the region’s humanity. As a whole, the deep South is not besieged. Life goes on, quite regardless of the fact that the latest wave of insurgency has claimed more than 5,500 lives in a decade.

 

The Nation’s former regional-news editor, Don Pathan is a freelance consultant based in Yala and a member of the Patani Forum Find out more at www.PataniForum.com.