Late last year we invited Sujit Wongthes, a master historian of Mainland Southeast Asia, for a riverside conversation on the Chao Phraya. Behind him where we sat was the former Lao palace, now called Bang Yi Khan Palace (and also known as Chao Lao Palace), and in the background is Rama VIII Bridge.
After we published the interview video in both Thai and English, many anonymous online commenters demanded that Sujit go back and relearn history—even though he has written over 150 books on the subject.
So we transcribed the conversation into text for readers to browse at their own pace, without omitting any parts, for the benefit of everyone interested to learn history with an open mind.
Why did you suggest we sit here? What is the significance of this place?
This is the palace of Chao Anouvong (the last king of the Kingdom of Vientiane). The wall you see is the palace wall. Before Rama VIII Bridge was built this whole area used to be gardens and orchards. I brought you here because all the questions are about Laos and The Isaan Record is “Isaan,” which is connected to Laos — so I wanted us to talk in a place linked to Laos.
According to French records by La Loubère, the area from Bangkok to Nonthaburi was regarded as the best fruit garden in Southeast Asia — a vast orchard comparable to Bang Chang in Samut Songkhram Province, which they called Bang Chang outer garden. This area was Bangkok’s inner garden.
From the mouth of the river outward it was all gardens. This area was very dense. When I was a child I lived nearby, I was an ordination‑age boy at Bang Yi Khan temple. Records also state this whole area was the Lao prince’s palace. I understand that in Rama I’s reign he ordered a palace built here for the Lao nobility, so the surrounding area was populated by Lao communities; it was even called “Ban Lao Vientiane” in the documents.
There is also Kharuehabodi temple. Its principal image, Thraek Kham Buddha statue, was brought from Chiang Mai together with the Emerald Buddha. The route was Chiang Mai to Luang Prabang, then to Vientiane before being enshrined at Kharuehabodi temple. The temple adjoins the palace wall, and, further downstream, with Daodeung temple, which is also connected to the Lao nobility.
Who was the Lao noble?
Her name was Chao Chom Waen, though in the temple she was called “Khun Suea or Tiger”, outsiders knew her as Chao Chom Waen. She was originally a Lao noble from Vientiane. When Siam captured Vientiane and brought the Emerald Buddha, they also brought this Lao noble and presented her to King Taksin of Thonburi; King Taksin then granted her as a consort to Rama I.
Rama I favored Chao Chom Waen and called her “Chaokhun Suea.” She was known for fierce jealousy — people said she was the consort who was as jealous as a tiger. There is a story that during Rama II’s reign a woman became pregnant in an adultery case; Rama I was very angry and said it must not happen, but Chao Chom Waen (Khun Suea) asked for royal pardon and was granted mercy.
Rama II respected Chao Chom Waen greatly. Possibly for that reason Rama II ordered a palace to be built here for the Lao nobility in this neighborhood. It’s unclear exactly in which reign the palace was built — if not Rama I, then it was during the reign of Rama II.
In Rama I’s reign, in the period when Rattanakosin was established, the Emerald Buddha was brought from Vientiane and offered to King Taksin, and the Lao nobility also brought the Emerald Buddha’s legend with them.
“What tells us these things about the palace comes from the writings of Khun Phum, a famous poetess and daughter of Phraya Ratchamontri Borirak. Khun Phum, nicknamed ‘Busabha Tha Ruea Chiang,’ was an accomplished poet who wrote the travel poem ‘Nirat Wang Bang Yi Khan,’ indicating she had visited this palace. She normally lived at Tha Chang in the royal quarter but recorded her visit to Wang Bang Yi Khan.”
We know Khun Phum could have visited Bang Yi Khan palace because her father’s house was here. Later, in Rama II’s reign, a house was granted to Sunthorn Phu (a famous poet) , and in Rama III the royal residence of Sunthorn Phu was given at Tha Chang Bang Luang for the Phraya Ratchamontri family, who then moved to Tha Chang Bang Luang while this site was donated as a temple called Wat Kharuehabodi.
So this was Khun Phum’s father’s home, and she returned to visit. She also described the condition of the Lao court. Her nirat “Nirat Wang Bang Yi Khan,” gives us details about Bang Yi Khan.
Writings on Kharuehabodi temple refer to a wealthy person or magnate; Phraya Ratchamontri Borirak, Khun Phum’s father, was affluent. Why was he rich? From holding government posts—raising the question of how nobles became wealthy: they grew rich from leveraging taxes, such as excise rights on liquor.
“When granted the liquor tax concession you could set up distilleries. This is the origin of the Bang Yi Khan distilleries, giving the area its name. Sunthorn Phu wrote, ‘to the distillery where the still’s smoke rises, with betel‑nut poles tied at the eaves’ that’s this distillery.”
In truth Sunthorn Phu had no connection to drunkenness having been ordained for nearly 30 years he couldn’t have been drunk but people slandered him because he was famous.
Is this area still a Lao quarter today?
No one knows anymore. Those who were Lao have all forgotten.
Why was the Lao quarter forgotten? Have they been assimilated by Thais?
Not exactly—they assimilated themselves. There were Lao communities on both sides of the river—Thonburi and the Phra Nakhon side. Over there (Phra Nakhon), where the tall buildings and the Bank of Thailand now stand, was once the palace of Prince Nakhon Sawan. From the central bank to Intharawat temple were once all Lao houses, but they eventually assimilated.
The history of Tor Monk (the venerable Great Monk) of Inthar temple (Wat Intharawihan), and Monk Tor of Rakhang temple (Wat Rakhang Khositaram Woramahawihan), also traces back here. His native village was around Tha Ruea district in Ayutthaya, in the area of the river route into Bangkok.
When the Emerald Buddha was brought to Bangkok it passed through Tha Ruea on the Pa Sak river before entering the capital. Monk Tor’s birthplace was there; he later ordained in Bangkok and became Monk Tor of Rakhang temple. Lao people then built a Monk Pho Tor at Inthar temple to commemorate his homeland—everything is connected.
“Both sides—Thonburi and Phra Nakhon—were heavily Lao, but over time people forgot” (laughs).
Why did the Lao assimilate themselves or not want others to know they were Lao?
It wasn’t like being intentionally swallowed up; it happened naturally in society—like the Chinese who came to Thailand and are now completely Thai and love Thailand, sometimes more than native Thais. Look at Luang Wichitwathakan or Kim Liang—they are extremely patriotic Thais.
And where did the Isaan people come from?
Oh! That’s a big, long story (laughs).
Where should one begin when asked the question of where Isaan people come from and how long they have lived in this region?
They’ve been here for no less than 5,000 years. To keep the number simple: archaeological evidence—such as pottery containing rice grains—has been carbon‑dated to over 5,000 years. Generally, evidence of agricultural communities across Thailand dates to around 3,000 years ago, but Isaan is the densest area in the country.
Isaan is densely populated today, but in fact it has been densely settled for more than 3,000 years. If you ask where Isaan people came from: they are indigenous to the region; they did not migrate here from elsewhere.
People did move in and out—that’s a natural process—but there have been long‑standing local communities. More than 3,000 years ago there were communities here already practicing metallurgy and possessing advanced technology. Around the start of the Common Era long‑distance maritime trade with India began, with Indian merchants buying copper to re‑export to the Greco‑Roman world.
Thailand’s largest copper source was at Wong Phrachan Mountain (Lopburi Province). The Mekong banks were also full of copper deposits: the largest copper sources were in the Isaan region and along both sides of the Mekong, and copper was a major export to India. When Indians bought copper they had to collect it in Isaan.
The Mekong river region was called Sepon on the Lao side; to reach the sea for shipping to India the copper had to be transported overland to coastal ports—then to Tavoy (then in Burma) via the Tha Chin and Mae Klong rivers and the three pagoda pass—before being shipped to India.
“This trade route is what led India to call the region Suvarnabhumi—literally “land of copper” (Suvarna here meaning copper), not gold, as commonly thought. Thailand has almost no gold deposits—only small placer gold in the Mekong, not enough to make necklaces.”
Bronze (copper‑tin alloy) sources used for casting large temple and Buddha images were also concentrated in Isaan—especially around Phu Lon in Nong Khai and continuing toward Loei. With the copper trade came migrants from other regions: resources made the area prosperous, so people gradually moved in.
Mythic accounts—like stories in the Urangkhata tales of nagas quarrelling and digging the Mekong to connect the Mun and Chi rivers—reflect migration routes in legend that align with real movements of people from south China (Yunnan, Guangxi) into Isaan. They brought knowledge, experience, and technologies from southern China. Two key introductions were wet‑rice paddy cultivation with irrigation and metallurgical techniques for smelting and casting bronze.
These forces drove Isaan to become a technologically advanced and densely populated region, attracting settlers from many directions continuously. This is a major and important story—yet it is often omitted from Thai historiography and even Isaan’s own historical narratives.
Why isn’t such a major topic well represented in Thai history?
Because even in Isaan people barely know about it, and most of the information is kept by the Ministry of Culture, which hoards data like a dog guarding a bone on the lawn and refuses to inform the public.
So Isaan was rich in copper and there’s much more to research, right?
Isaan had highly advanced technologies—metallurgical smelting and metalworking, starting with copper and then iron—which revolutionized the world, because iron was transformative.
“Whoever discovered iron, wow! That place became a great power, because iron produced tools for carving stone, weapons, and so many tools for making a living,” he said with a laugh.
The largest iron source in Isaan is Thung Kula Ronghai, which has both iron and rock salt. Scientists still cannot fully explain whether they are related—whether salt played a role in iron smelting—there is no answer yet.
“The fact is there was so much salt it exceeded local consumption, so the Thung Kula Ronghai area supported dense, continuous settlement for 2,500–3,000 years.”
What about the Chao Phraya basin during this period (2500-3000 years ago)?
Back then the Chao Phraya basin had ordinary settlements, and the south had communities too, but the density and metal technology were most pronounced in Isaan. The central region had copper at Lopburi but only in one spot, while in Isaan it covered both sides of the Mekong.
When India came to buy copper from Isaan, transport routes were needed, so roads and shipping routes developed. Those copper trade routes produced major cities in Isaan, such as Sema (Sung Noen District, Nakhon Ratchasima) and Si Thep (Phetchabun Province), twin towns that grew from the copper trade.
Isaan is rich, both culturally and in copper but why is this hardly talked about in Isaan today?
The reason it isn’t discussed is that Thai history often focuses only on Buddha images—round faces, smiling, big chests, small waists—and nothing else. The people got left out of history.
Thai history says that towns and states emerged only after adopting Indian civilization, following George Cœdès’s view that Southeast Asia had to accept Indian civilization to become urbanized.
“But if you accept Indian civilization, why would they spread their culture? If there are no people, no towns, beasts tear each other apart. There had to be towns and large settlements first, then India came.”
Explained this way: towns already existed from the copper trade; then Buddhism and Brahmanism arrived because the technology was already there. Those communities were almost small states. When India arrived it brought religion and local elites adopted it; they then used existing technology to cast deities and Buddha images.
Previously, the Lao on this side were culturally rich and technologically advanced so why did they become a Siamese dependency? Was their politics weak?
Before going there we must clarify the foundations first. The main problem in how Thai history has been taught is “a lack of geography.” There’s no sense of the physical landscape. Thailand actually has two distinct types of terrain: lowland plains and uplands. The lowland area—from the Chao Phraya River to the inland Khmer lakes—forms one continuous plain; nothing separates it.
This is not explained in Thai history. People of the lowlands and the highlands have been connected and interacting continuously for 5,000 years, and for the past 3,000 years they have been in networks linked in this way.
Connected through mountain passes, and battles even today are fought over these passes, contesting control of the gaps. Take the Ta Mueang Tham and Ta Mueang Tod temples: they are religious sites and rest stops along the passes. There are nearly a hundred passes along the Phanom Dong Rak ridge, which links the upland area called “jen la bok.” “Jen la nam” refers to the lowlands. In Khmer, the highlands are called Khmer lue (upper Khmer) and the lowlands Khmer krom (lower Khmer) everyone knows that; Khmer krom has been Thai‑ified.
The oldest evidence shows people from the Yangtze, Huanghe and Yellow River regions and the Mekong in China mixed with the peoples of the Thai lands more than 2,000 years ago. Scholars have noted that the uplands rise from the Isaan plain at Woe Ta Bua on the Isaan edge around Chaiyaphum and Dan Khun Thot in Nakhon Ratchasima about 30 meters above Bangkok, as high as the Eiffel Tower or the Baiyoke Tower in scale. From that rim the land falls into low basins such as Thung Kula.
About 5,000 years ago both glutinous and non‑glutinous rice were present — short‑grained and long‑grained varieties. People have been pounding glutinous rice here for 5,000 years, preferring it to non‑glutinous rice; long‑grained rice was not the local preference.
How do we know? Because the local accompaniments are eaten with sticky rice: the pungent, fermented flavors — pla‑dek, pla‑ra, chili pastes, dried fish, crunchy fish — these are foods for sticky rice, not for ordinary non‑glutinous rice.
Because Isaan was a copper source, both banks of the Mekong became centers of bronze‑casting technology for Buddha images and deities. Isaan was the origin of the Suvarnabhumi copper trade, and the metals revolution’s root — iron — lay in Thung Kula Ronghai, where iron tools for carving and the early material basis of the Siamese people were produced.
Thai language also developed through movement. Originally it wasn’t called the Tai language family or Tai-Kadai; languages from Guangxi in southern China moved with trade. Language travels even if people do not migrate. Why did one language become the lingua franca? Because people of many different parentages could not understand each other, they needed a common market language.
Today we use English as a lingua franca, but back then they used Tai.
At home people spoke Mon or Khmer, but at the market they had to speak Tai so everyone could understand. That is why they were collectively called “Siamese”—whether Hmong, Mon, Khmer, Malay—if they spoke Tai in the market they were Siamese. They did not call it Thai then but Tai, the root of the Thai language. When the Siamese moved down into the Chao Phraya basin they called themselves “Thai.”
“The origin of the Siamese or Thai people is in Isaan. La Loubère clearly recorded that the people of Ayutthaya called themselves Thai, and that there were two kinds of Thai: the ‘small Thai’ and the ‘great Thai.’ The ‘small Thai’ were the Mekong Lao, while the ‘great Thai’ were the Salween Lao, both present in Ayutthaya.”
La Loubère asked those people and they said they were “small Thai,” although in reality they were Lao from Isaan, because the Mekong groups in Isaan are closest to being Thai. Evidence includes the “Siemguk” bas‑relief at Prasat Angkor Wat showing a person standing on an elephant’s back—something Thai history still cannot explain and does not tell us who it represents.
“Siem” means “Siam,” while “guk” denotes an origin or source; together it means the original Siam. Chinese records state that the Siamese liked to raid the Khmer borderlands and were skilled at silk weaving, mulberry cultivation, and sericulture, concentrated along the Mun River basin.
“Today the area is around Pak Thong Chai, with a center at Mueang Sema, Sung Noen district, because descendants of Siemguk remained there. A century later came Pha Muang, a regional ruler in that area. The Urangkhata records also call this region ‘Ratcha Nakhon Ratchasima,’ a royal town, and it was these Siamese royal towns that cooperated with Lopburi–Khmer Lopburi in founding Ayutthaya.”
In Ayutthaya inscriptions, the Stele of Si Satchanalai appears in Khmer script brought from Si Satchanalai, which corresponds to the Mueang Sema–Sung Noen area. The Mueang Sema cluster and Mueang Si Thep have been connected since before the Dvaravati period, with evidence from the copper trade.
Mueang Sema followed Mahayana Buddhism. Sema branched off the founding of Phimai, which carried Mahayana Buddhism with it. The largest head of a Bodhisattva was also found in the Sema area near Prasat Phanom Wan. Phimai is known worldwide as an origin point of Khmer kings (the Mahithir dynasty) worldwide.
Phimai Stone Sanctuary served as a prototype for Angkor Wat, and several Khmer kings—such as Suryavarman II (builder of Angkor Wat) and Jayavarman VII (builder of Angkor Thom)—trace roots back to Phimai.
“That means the ancestors of the Khmer kings had their center in the Mun River basin. Their fathers and mothers lived in Isaan, which is why so many stone sanctuaries were built there.”
The Sukhothai inscriptions also record that Pho Khun Pha Mueang was the son‑in‑law of a Khmer king, receiving a wife (Queen Sukol Mahadevi), the royal spear Khanchai Sri, and the new name Si Indrathit. Thus Pho Khun Pha Mueang was an heir of Siemguk and directly part of the Siamese people. Later, when Ayutthaya was reestablished, it adopted Theravada Buddhism in the Lankan tradition.
Yet the Ayodhya name and Ramayana links remained because the Phimai royal line revered the Ramakien; at the same time Lankan Theravada also venerated characters like Thotsakan, so religious culture and beliefs became interwoven.
Given this background, the term “Lao” seems very significant. Why, then, in modern times has “Lao” become a term of disparagement or a label of low status?
It’s because Thai history as taught today—what I studied and what you studied across the country—was rewritten after 1939 when the country name changed from “Siam” to “Thailand” under Field Marshal Plaek Phibunsongkhram and Luang Wichitwathakan.
“They wrote that the pure‑blooded true Thai come 100% from the Altai Mountains—everyone memorized it—but where the Altai really is, they didn’t know; no one had been there, yet they wrote this nonsense.”
They claimed Chinese invasions forced people to retreat south and then establish Sukhothai as Thailand’s first capital; that narrative was memorized and in the process Isaan was cut off—despite real evidence of connections between the Chao Phraya basin and Isaan for at least 3,000 years.
Why did this narrative emerge in Thai history, why did they do that?
Out of patriotism (he replied immediately). Deep patriotism. So Sukhothai leaves no room for Isaan, because they wrote that the pure Thai come from Sukhothai — how could Isaan be “true Thai” if true Thai are from Sukhothai?
At one time a Ministry of Education textbook stated that Isaan had no connection with the Chao Phraya basin. I then wrote a column attacking it for seven days and seven nights, showing that the evidence is complete: the Chao Phraya basin and Isaan have been connected for at least 3,000 years.
The Director‑General of the Department of General Education called to meet me and said, “Hey! Can you stop writing?” I asked why. He replied, “Because it plays into the communists’ hands — they’ll use it to claim Thailand cut Isaan off, then Isaan will join Laos and become communist.”
I retorted, “Then change the textbook. If you don’t change it, I won’t stop.” They then changed it, but only for two years — then they removed the topic again. They didn’t really change it; they just cut it out and stopped talking about Isaan and cut out the period in 1899–1901, when Siam was trying to exert control over the Isaan people.
Was there liberation of Isaan people from Siamese rule? I thought there was repression.
No, here’s what happened. At that time, during King Rama V’s reign, Siam was caught between French power in Indochina and British power in Burma–India. Both empires wanted Siam to serve as a buffer state. The French sought to annex Siam by claiming Isaan was Lao.
But Siam negotiated with the British, and in the end the two great powers agreed to keep Siam as a buffer state, preventing the French from crossing the Mekong. Still, Siam had to act quickly to change administrative names so the French could not claim the region was Lao.
Thailand therefore moved to protect itself: the area, once called the “Lao mandala,” was renamed several times from 1899, and finally designated the Northeastern Monthon or Isaan as defined by Bangkok to avoid French pretexts and make clear it was part of Siam.
So Thailand’s decision was driven by fear that Isaan might become part of France, not by an effort to coerce Siam, correct?
Oh yes — exactly. It was Siam being coerced. Why don’t they use another phrase? Why say “Lao forced Siam”? You need to read Mahasilavirot’s book. By Rama VI it was called “Isaan,” not “Lao,” so the Isaan identity gained official recognition over the term Lao.
In people’s understanding, being “Isaan” sounds better than being “Lao.” When I wrote that Isaan is Lao, Isaan people even scolded me because they don’t want to be called Lao.
Why don’t Isaan people want to be called “Lao”?
It’s a problem of nationalism and the modern nation‑state. The new nation‑state project — especially the national anthem and nation‑building — insists on creating Thai identity.
Perhaps people felt shameful about being called Lao?
Partly. It stems from historical contempt toward the Lao, which didn’t just start recently — it goes back to Ayutthaya. When Ayutthaya was a kingdom trading overseas, Lao polities were interior and less developed, so Ayutthaya began to look down on the Lao. Contempt for Lao and Khmer dates back to early Ayutthaya.
There is evidence in early Ayutthayan literature such as the book Samut Kho Khamchan. One scene depicts a Thai and a Lao sword fighting, the Thai winning and mocking the Lao — so this kind of thing goes back more than 500 years.
Regarding the Phi Bun (spirit‑merit) uprising at Trakan Phuet Phon district, Ubon Ratchathani province— did Siam suppress it to prevent secession?
Before we get there, some background: about 700–800 years ago central Isaan (the Chi basin–Thung Kula area) experienced depopulation. One cause may have been climate drought; another major cause was shifts in trade routes and power centers. People moved to the Mun basin; the Chao Phraya basin became Ayutthaya’s population core, and some moved toward the Khmer lake-Angkor Wat-Angkor Thom region.
How do we know? Because archaeological continuity from that period is missing in the original sites. Later, Lao from Vientiane, who had lived on the left bank of the Mekong, moved into the former ancient towns because those places offered fresh water, non‑saline soil, and ready resources.
Vientiane’s population declined while Phuan people from Xiangkhouang in Lao migrated into Vientiane; migration cycles repeated. So original Vientiane inhabitants came from multiple places and became part of the Isaan population; meanwhile many original Isaan people migrated to Ayutthaya and Khmer lands.
“This population movement history is almost absent from mainstream Thai history, which instead emphasizes Chinese migration narratives—so later Bangkok and Vientiane elites appear close, but the fuller migration story is omitted.”
How do we see that elite closeness?
It’s visible in widespread Lao connections in Bangkok’s court, though not openly discussed due to embarrassment.
Can you give an example?
Sure, for example Sunthorn Phu’s circle was tied to Lao networks. Tha Phra palace area now houses Silpakorn University; descendants of Prince Lakkhananukun and related families are largely Lao. There are quite a few Lao kin in Bangkok’s elite.
As for the “Phi Bun” uprising, it occurred after King Chulalongkorn’s administrative reforms (from 1899 onward). He abolished the mandala system of tributary principalities to modernize along Western lines and reorganized territories into monthons, outlawing ethnic labels such as Lao, Khmer, Phu Thai, etc., to make a modern Western‑style nation‑state.
“All of this generated conflicts. An important work on the administrative reforms of King Chulalongkorn is Tech Bunnag’s book The Revolt of R.S. 121, which discusses the Phi Bun uprising in Isaan, the Ngiao rebellion in Phrae, and the Seven Cities rebellion of Phaya Khaek (kings of muslims)—three uprisings that broke out simultaneously and resembled each other.”
The term “phi bun” derives from “phu mi bun” (literally “people of merit”). The first person to use the pejorative “phi bun” was Prince Sanphisitprasong. The notion of “phu mi bun” is an ideological concept from Lankan Theravada: those who accumulated great merit in past lives become wealthy and can become kings in this life.
“The Lankan Theravada ideology changed the notion that ordinary people could become kings; merchants could become kings.
“The tale of U Thong king” is not a historical person; it is a legend. U Thong king did not have other professions—he was a merchant in the story, but he did not exist historically; it is a myth.
Were Isaan, the north, and some deep south provinces treated as another form of colony at that time?
Yes, it depends on how you interpret it. Thai rulers like to claim we were never colonized, but it depends on whether you mean de jure or de facto.
Siam was a de facto colony: not officially colonized, but effectively under outside pressures and compelled to conform. In colonial terms some scholars call it an “internal colony.” Siam itself acted as a colonial power, bringing previously external polities under internal colonial administration.
Can we call Siam a colonial power in this region? Would people be upset?
They would be angry (he replies immediately). I’ve written about this many times and received much criticism. Notice how when the Burmese attacked Bang Rachan we composed triumphant songs, but when we burned Vientiane or attacked the Khmer, we don’t talk about it — it’s absent from Thai history.
So I published a book, “Nirat Thap Wiangchan, or March The Army to Vientiane” and handed it out at the book fair. The narrative recounts Prince Thap, who stayed at Wang Lang near Siriraj and followed the army to attack Vientiane in the war of Rama III, even burning Vientiane. I wrote the travelogue so descendants would know how great Vientiane once was — if you destroy a city and don’t record it, later generations won’t know its former glory.
Some young political activists don’t want to be called “Isaan” because they see it as a label imposed by Siam’s colonial power; they prefer river‑based names like Khong, Chi, Mun rather than ethnic terms. Is this a form of decolonization?
Probably yes. At one time — especially before 1957 — the government neglected Isaan, ignored and even demeaned it. For example, in 1957 there were very few sticky‑rice and grilled‑chicken stalls in Bangkok.
I came to Bangkok from the countryside in 1954. By 1957 there was only one Isaan restaurant selling sticky rice, larb and som tam — the original Zaap E‑Lee (now a mission hospital). It was packed with Isaan people; trishaw riders ate there; the flies were for free (loud laugh).
Have MPs from Isaan helped raise Isaan people’s awareness?
Isaan MPs have certainly helped build Isaan consciousness. After Field Marshal Sarit’s coup and the crackdown on Isaan communists, some Isaan students in Bangkok returned home and joined the communist movement in Isaan.
But in Bangkok, Isaan people face strong discrimination and often don’t dare speak Lao, unlike southern Thais who speak freely. Compared to the south, Isaan people are subdued.
This may not be just contempt but also state policies creating inequality. Look at central government budgets: two years ago, people in Bangkok received about 100 baht per person while people in Nong Bua Lam Phu province received only 4 baht per person.
Exactly! As I said earlier, history taught that if you’re not Thai, you’re not worth developing — so why develop them? That’s the reality. The first major road most people noticed was the Mittraphap Highway, built with U.S. support, and only then did people say, “Oh — Isaan exists.” That began around 1957.
Then people sent Isaan people to Bangkok as servants and laborers — all kinds of work. Most laborers came from Isaan; after harvest they would take the train to Hua Lamphong and fill the station, sleeping there until the rice‑cutting season when they returned — it happened every year and made the newspapers; reporters covered it annually.
“This is the result of Thai history belittling Isaan as ‘not Thai’ — because they wrote that the true Thai are in Sukhothai, so Isaan was labeled Lao, Khmer, primitive. Scholars wrote textbooks like that, and budgets followed — Isaan got cut off.”
“When I was at university it was the same. That’s the problem. I really saw it myself. I wasn’t from Isaan; I was a Bangkok student, my father was Lao and my mother Chinese, but these memories of real contempt stayed with me.”
Why do Isaan people accept being looked down upon?
Because they are poor and beaten down — they accept it. The Thai concept of identity makes them submit naturally. Much of Southeast Asia, especially places influenced by Lankan Theravada, tend to accept this submission.
They submit because of beliefs in merit and karma — they don’t think politically or blame political economy. They blame themselves by thinking: “I had little merit in my past life,” so they accept their fate.
Wasn’t “Lao” once an honorific for rulers? How did it become an insult?
It was used for kings. For example, Chiang Mai rulers were prefixed with “Lao” — Lao Meng, Lao Khao, Lao Kon. “Lao” meant “king.” Later the term “phra ya” (Honorific ranks for government officials in the past) and Khmer titles such as “khun” were adopted, replacing “Lao.”
When did that change happen?
Around 1500–1700 CE, when riverine religious cultures blended Buddhism and Brahmanism along the Chao Phraya.
Is it also partly about shame?
No no, it’s about power. Ordinary people don’t know the history.
In the past Isaan had its own written language, namely Tai Noi — so when did it disappear?
During the Thammayut reforms under Rama IV — that period saw people from Isaan come to study in Bangkok and local scripts declined.
Could the Tai Noi script be revived, like the Scottish or Welsh revival?
It’s difficult, because power structures and historical myths claim the Thai originate from the Altai and Sukhothai. Isaan’s evidence is complete, but it is ignored and denigrated.
People ask why mor lam, Isaan country music, and pong lang are popular — because they’re not “Thai” in that official sense; if they were deemed fully Thai they’d be ruined.
How can Isaan people be proud of themselves?
Start with history. Without knowing history you can’t understand. We must restart and begin the story from the Mekong–Chi–Mun basins, not from the Altai. There’s no evidence for the Altai origin; the world knows this, but Thailand refuses to accept the truth. That is the root of the problem.
