In a free state

27 January 1999

We cross the border without difficulty. The frontier post is a rough wooden gate hinged by an old truck tyre. Nobody asks for passports. The only guard is a proud but exhausted bitch surrounded by five scraggy new puppies.

When the villagers fenced off the village, the provincial authorities claimed they had declared a "free state". But the fence is a few rails of bamboo. Chickens, dogs and children pass through without noticing it exists. The villagers are rather amused by the accusation. "Welcome to the free state" they beam.

The core population of the two villages in the free state are Chao Bon, a Mon-Khmer minority. They have probably been in this area longer than any Thai. They like lonely places. Gradually they have been pushed farther into the forest. A generation ago they would run away at the site of a stranger. Now many other northeasterners have joined them and inter-married. They live by collecting bai lan, the palm fibre on which all Siam’s religious texts, chronicles and histories were once written. Now it is used for wrapping traditional savouries. Almost all the nation’s supply comes from this Pa Nayang Klak forest in lower Chaiyaphum. The villagers look after the forest because it is their livelihood. They feed us a lunch of red ants eggs, spicy mushroom, pak wan and fresh vegetables. "It all comes from our pollution-free supermarket".

This "free state" seems to belong to a different century, a different Thailand. But here and now, the outside world is hammering on the door. These two villages stand in the way of the construction of the Pong Khun Petch (PKP) dam.

A lot of people believe the PKP dam will make them happier. This is a region of rain-shadow. The annual rainfall is small and unreliable. Last year El Nino made things bad. This year may be worse.

Many are pinning their hopes on the PKP dam. But who will really benefit? The villagers who blocked the road on 5 January in support of the dam came mostly from the area to the north. Their hope is understandable because their area is really parched. But it is on a hill, above the planned reservoir. Nowhere in the project document is their any provision for pumping water uphill. The villagers in the area just below the dam have plenty of water in the rainy season but think the dam will help their second crop. But the project plan makes it clear that the benefits will come in the rainy season, not the dry. This plan targets the benefits to areas 100 kms down the Chi river in Khon Kaen. The man in charge of a pumping station some 20 kms down the Chi is amazed by this news; "It will never get that far".

Even so, someone will benefit. But is the PKP dam the best plan for this area? The dam will hold 70 million cubic meter of water. But the upper Chi as a whole carries 2400 million. Will anyone notice this little addition? Would it make more sense to manage the 2400 better rather than bothering with another 70?

Probably so. But managing the 2400 is a problem. Water is a very free business. Along this short stretch of the upper Chi, there are pumping stations built by the Irrigation Department, the Science Ministry and by local communities. Most have no gauges. Nobody has a clear idea where, when and how much water is pumped out. The stretch also has a number of weirs built by local communities. The overall layout owes much more to local initiative than any overall plan. At a newly built Science Ministry pump, the local overseer knows how to operate the on-off switch but little else. Will the flow be enough? "Don’t know yet, this is the first year." What will you do if different villages fight over the supply? "No idea."

The district officer admits he used to have no interest in the PKP dam, even though the project has been discussed for over a decade. Until last year. Then the water ran out in the dry season. He had to decide which villages would get the dwindling supply. He nearly got torn apart in the process. That experience made him interested in the PKP project. His conception of how the dam will help the water system in his area bears no relationship to the project plan (which he has never read). But he has joined the legion of hope. And like any convert, his support is especially fervent. "Those villages must be removed. That forest is not worth saving anyway."

Certainly Pa Nayang Klak does not look like the lush rainforest of the picture postcards. It’s dry deciduous, and outside the rainy season it looks sparse and parched. But this is the type of forest which once covered much of the northeast, and whose rapid disappearance over the last generation make the statistics of forest destruction so dramatic. The villagers in the "free state" are not the only ones who use this forest’s resources. All over the northeast there are people who used to have a forest like this close at hand, and they still miss its benefits. Every now and then they get together, pile into a pickup and head for Chaiyaphum. Some collect bai lan. More gather up red ants eggs, pak wan, bamboo shoots, herbs, mushrooms, and the tree frogs which can be knocked off the branches after a good storm.

These benefits don’t figure in the cost-benefit analysis of the dam. Of course, not all the forest will be flooded. But the removal of a significant amount will set off a chain reaction. All the demand for bai lan, mushroom, red ants eggs and tree frogs will be concentrated in the remaining part. At some point, this pressure will pass a critical point and the forest will disappear. This has been the pattern all over the region.

The PKP project has many supporters. The Irrigation Department has already spent over 50 million baht on plans, land purchase and compensation. The contractor has his machinery standing by idle. The land speculators are eager to cash in their profits. Many farmers (far more than can realistically benefit) have invested this dam with their own hopes. Local officials pray it will make their life easier. In a free democratic state, support in such numbers certainly matters. But is the PKP project happening because the Irrigation Department likes building dams and is no good at water management? Because it has no interest in finding more rational ways to manage the upper Chi. Because no attempt has been made to assess the real social and economic value of the forest which will be destroyed. Because too many people have been seduced by lies and bad data. Because projects acquire a momentum which is difficult to defy. Because logic gets sacrificed to emotion. Because in a free, democratic state, taking decisions which respect the past, present and future requires a lot of effort.