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Hartzell, Jessie MacKinnon. Mission to Siam:
the Memoirs of Jessie MacKinnon Hartzell. Edited by Joan
Acocella. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2001.
As historical
fields go, the study of northern Thai church history up to 1941
is an exceedingly modest field documented by a relatively limited
number of sources. While those sources still run to many, many
thousands of pages of documents, books, and articles, the amount
is not overwhelming. That may be good in the sense that it is
a field one can "master" to an extent. The problem with
a limited historical record is, of course, that we are left with
many holes in the story. This is especially true for the period
between the Wars when missionary records are much less helpful
than is the case for before World War I but Thai-language sources
are still almost non-existent.
One greets
this book, thus, with a sense of gratitude. Here, miracle of miracles,
is a missionary biography published by a major university press
that provides new historical data from precisely that inter-War
period. Of equal importance, the book is about and the data is
from a missionary wife. Missionary wives, as a group, have left
far fewer records than their husbands or unmarried missionary
women, who had to write their own reports and conduct their own
correspondence. Without opening so much as a page, these facts
commend Jessie Hartzell's now published memoirs to those who are
interested in missionary history, the history of missions in Thailand,
and northern Thai history generally.
Hartzell's
memoirs are presented as a contribution to feminist historiography,
a primary document for feminist historiographical reflection if
you will. The editor, however, does not overplay this approach
to the memoirs, an approach that is useful so long as it is understood
that Hartzell herself was not a feminist. She was simply a woman
who happened to become a missionary and go to northern Siam. The
importance of her memoirs is not that they are fodder for a particular
ideological estimation of the past but rather that they give voice,
as stated above, to a woman who has otherwise remained largely
voiceless—ignored by and unknown to even students of northern
Thai church and missions history. She was a woman whose voice
deserves being heard, which may be the point of the whole book.
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The contents
of the memoirs themselves confirm their importance to the study
of northern Thai missionary and general history. They provide
a much fuller picture of the work and ministry of the Hartzells,
Presbyterian missionaries, in comparison with anything previously
available. Since they worked at Lampang, Nan, and Phrae in the
course of their career (for her, from 1912 to 1928), we receive
improved insights into the workings of those three smaller stations.
These memoirs also contain many details of missionary life that
add further texture to our understanding of daily life as a missionary
in the North. These include the long, yet interesting trip out
to northern Siam, the challenges of learning northern Thai, shopping
in Bangkok, working with servants, and the various aspects of
daily life and work. Hartzell became deeply involved in the medical
work of the mission, and her memoirs contain descriptions of the
diseases she had to treat and the conditions in which she worked.
One of the few drawbacks to Hartzell's memoirs is that in the
published text it is often difficult to tell in what year events
take place. Sometimes the reader has to work back ten for fifteen
pages to find a date that might be relevant to an event or description.
Joan Acocella,
the editor, is Jessie Hartzell's granddaughter, and it is clear
that the editing and publication of this volume was a labor of
love of and respect for her grandmother. Her portrait of her grandmother
(pages xxvi-xliii) is an important addition to the book and a
helpful contribution to the study of Presbyterian missionary history
in Siam. It explains the provenance of Hartzell's memoirs and
provides important insights into her life before and after Siam,
areas that historians frequently do not have access to in the
study of missionary history. The portrait she gives is that of
an essentially sad woman, who met with many trials in her life
and made important sacrifices to remain on the mission field.
If Acocella is correct, Jessie Hartzell was a considerably stronger
person than her husband and seems to have made a more substantial
contribution to missionary work than he did. Acocella also highlights
Hartzell's increasing love for the northern Thai and her commitment
to them, without patching over the sometimes patronizing (matronizing?)
attitudes Jessie had towards them.
One of Acocella's
most important insights into her grandmother from a missionary
history point of view is her claim, based on information gleaned
from Hartzell's daughters, that Jessie Hartzell was not an especially
religious woman
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although she did believe
in God. (page xxxix); she almost seems to have fallen into missionary
work inadvertently. This family insight seems confirmed by the
general lack of religious rhetoric that graces so many pages of
the general missionary record in northern Siam. Acocella, ever
seeking a balanced portrait of Hartzell, however, also makes the
important observation that, "Religion is often accused of
keeping women down; here is a case of the church's enabling a
woman to go forward." (page xxix). The history of women on
the mission field in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries
repeatedly confirms this insight.
One wishes
that the academic introduction (pages xi-xxiv) was as well managed
as the familial portrait of Jessie Hartzell. The general descriptions
of the historical backdrop to Hartzell's ministry in northern
Siam are fine, but Morris' grasp of the finer points of northern
Thai missions history is constantly, almost consistently plagued
by bloopers, large and small. She has, for example, the Revs.
Daniel McGilvary and Jonathan Wilson, important figures in the
founding of northern Thai missions, arriving in Bangkok 1858 with
their "families" to "start another new mission"
which became, she states, "the Siam Presbytery." In
fact, McGilvary was single. They arrived to join the Siam Mission,
which was founded in 1847, and the Siam Presbytery was an organization
composed of Thai churches, which in no way could be classified
as a mission (page xii). It should be noted that Morris herself
later states correctly in a footnote that McGilvary and Wilson
came to join the Siam Mission, thus contradicting her earlier
statement. (page 42 note) In that same footnote, however, she
again makes several misstatements. She claims, first, that McGilvary
and Wilson graduated from Princeton University instead of Princeton
Theological Seminary (Class of 1856), the correct institution.
She states they shared plans for "an evangelical mission" from the time they were classmates. There is nothing in any extant
records that indicates that this is true or even that they were
particularly close while in seminary. She states that after their
arrival in Bangkok in 1858, they established the Siam
Presbytery; that is almost correct. They did participate in its
founding, but did not take the lead as she implies. Finally, Morris
claims that Wilson and McGilvary founded "the Northern mission
in 1866." The truth is that the McGilvarys, Daniel and Sophia,
along with their two children arrived in Chiang Mai in April 1867,
and that date is usually taken as the foundation of the "Laos
Mission." Wilson was not involved. He and his wife, Kate,
did not reach Chiang Mai until
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February
1868. The rest of Morris' Introduction is riddled with wrong facts
and misleading interpretations (on pages xvi, xviii, xx, xxi,
xxii, xxiv), although at times she does get her interpretation
straight, such as her insight that the missionaries of Hartzell's
generation were still reluctant to turn over work and authority
to the northern Thai (page xvi).
 The Introduction
not withstanding, this is an important and invaluable book in
terms of the study of Presbyterian missionary history in northern
Siam. It takes its place on a shelf of missionary biographies
and books that is altogether too bare of comparable studies. Those
who are going to study northern Thai church history in the missionary
era up to the late 1920s will need to use this book.
Thongchai Winichakul. "Writing
at the Interstices: Southeast Asian Historians and Post-National
Histories in Southeast Asia." A Paper presented to the 8th
International Conference on Thai Studies, 9-12 January 2002.
On first
glance, the subject of this patently academic paper appears irrelevant
to the life and history of the churches of Thailand. Thongchai's
call for new historigraphical theories in the writing of Southeast
Asian history, however, offers important insights for that life
and history. I begin here with a review of the paper itself and
then offer a few thoughts on how it can help us reflect on Thai
church history and on our understanding of Thai theologies.
Thongchai,
a professor at the University of Wisconsin, has become an important
figure in the study of Thai history. In this paper, he steps back
to reflect on the theories widely assumed in writing Thai history
and history in Southeast Asia generally, and he explores the possibility
of new theories and a changed focus. Avoiding trendy references
to "post-modernism," Tongchai devotes his attention
to the influence of the concept of "nation" on the study
of Southeast Asian history. He begins the paper by observing that
historians have been debating for some time the impact of focusing
on the nation as the primary category for studying the past. National
history has until recently amounted to "official" history,
but historians now argue that looking at the past through the
lens of the nation state distorts or ignores many important aspects
of that past. National history in Southeast Asia fails to honor
local identities and the unique stories (histories) of local communities
and sub-
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national regions. It also
fails to give due place to those histories that straddle national
boundaries or that involve the whole of Southeast Asia. Given
the limitations of national history, Thongchai notes that many
historians are moving beyond it; they are seeking new ways of
imaging the past and of writing history. He challenges other historians
to get on the bandwagon and to begin to contribute to the development
of new historigraphical theories and topics of study. This paper
is his personal contribution to meeting that challenge.
Thongchai
places his theoretical considerations in the context of globalization,
taking a surprisingly upbeat, positive attitude about it that
rejects the bad press it receives in many quarters. He argues
that globalization is inevitably accompanied by "localization,"
a process that he apparently feels is increasingly destroying
the very foundations of nation-state legitimacy. Throughout the
paper, Thongchai displays a somewhat subtle but clearly articulated
antipathy to the nation state and national histories. He celebrates,
therefore, the opportunities presented to historians by the globalization-localization
process. The paper argues that globalization is not a grave danger
to local culture because of the fact that local conditions always
reshape and transform global forces. Globalization fosters and
encourages local "translations" of global themes, a
process that Thongchai also calls, "hybridization."
He observes that Southeast Asia has experienced two prior waves
of globalization, namely "Indianization" in more ancient
times and colonialism more recently. Neither of these movements,
he contends, resulted in a loss of Southeast Asian identity.
(A comment.
Thongchai lives in the United States, and in that context, this
happy interpretation of globalization as a largely benign process
makes a good deal of sense. I would argue that marginalized peoples
in Thailand, such as the Karen and Lahu, however, do not experience
globalization in this rosy fashion. It is killing their cultures,
destroying their environments, and causing serious dislocation
in their lives. Globalization is not just a cultural process.
It has economic and political aspects that are frequently demonic,
and local people are hard-pressed to resist the exploitive aspects
that accompany globalization.)
The author
offers an alternative to national historiography, which he calls, "history at the interstices" (my computer dictionary
defines "interstices" as being "A space, especially
a small or narrow one, between things or parts."). He sees
two
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advantages to this new type of
history. First, it directs the historian's attention to the boundaries
of a nation and to those places and peoples considered marginal
to national history. Second, "history at the interstices" encourages the study of local histories. Subjects this type of
history might study include not only local histories, but also
histories of border regions and border communities, sub-national
regional histories, tribal histories, the history of travel and
communications, and studies covering the whole or parts of Southeast
Asia.
Finally,
Thongchai raises the question of who is qualified to undertake "interstitial history" (my term, not his). This seems
to be a very personal question for him, as he reflects on his
being both Thai-Chinese and an expatriate scholar living in the
United States. He rejects the notion that only indigenous scholars
are qualified to write history at the interstices and proposes
a new category, "home" historians, in its place. "Home"
historians are historians who are writing about the place where
they live; they may be foreigners living in Southeast Asia as
well as indigenous scholars. They need not be native speakers
of the "home" language. While not denying the obvious
advantages of native language speakers in the study of home histories,
Thongchai insists that sometimes non-native language speakers
are as or more sensitive to the meaning of home words and the
home language than are native language speakers. He concludes
that interstitial history is a collective process, one that will
be engaged in by many scholars of many stripes.
Thongchai's
paper on history at the interstices illuminates issues relevant
to the study of Thai church history in at least three ways. First,
it puts questions of indigenization, contextualization, and inculturation
in a new light. It can be argued that a great deal of the concern
expressed by Western church scholars and missionaries concerning
these issues has more to do with their needs to adapt themselves
to Thai situations than it does with the needs of the Thai churches
themselves. I am convinced that the Christianities of Thailand
are already far more "Thai" (or Karen, or Lahu, or Isan)
than most Westerners associated with Thailand's churches understand
or are willing to admit. Just as Thongchai claims, translation
and hybridization has taken place and continues to take place.
We are still waiting for the churches of Thailand to reflect on
that process in a more self-aware way and in print than it has
so far, but the relative lack of (published, formal) reflection
on the process
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does not mean the process
is not taking place. Thongchai also helps us to see that the localization
of the Christian faith is an inevitable consequence of the foreign
missionary movement's work in Thailand. The missionary movement
may be viewed as one aspect of colonialism (formerly) and globalization
(currently), which means that once people in Thailand accepted
the Christian faith they immediately began to go to work on it
with the cognitive and religious tools of their own cultures.
A happy,
minor instance of the translation of American Presbyterian forms
by the Church of Christ in Thailand is the recent decision that
ordained clergy should be members of both a local church and a
district ("presbytery"). In the United States, this
dual membership would be seen as a confusion of clergy roles and
of the powers of the local church as over against the presbytery.
Clergy can be members only of presbytery because only presbytery
can oversee their work and exercise judicial discipline over them.
Local churches, on the other hand, exercise disciplinary authority
over their members. If a cleric belongs to both a church and a
presbytery, who is finally responsible for her discipline? Which
membership takes precedence? The CCT happily ignores all of these
legalities. In its context(s), the issue is one of belonging,
and the CCT wants its clergy to belong to a local Christian community.
"Membership" is not a legal or organizational category
so much as a communal one. That which violates ecclesiastical
sensibilities in the United States makes perfect ecclesiastical
sense in Thailand. Translation has taken place. The result is
a global-local hybrid.
Second,
the reconceptualization of history as being done at the interstices
sheds light on the concept of the "Thai Church." On
the basis of Thongchai's paper, it can be argued that either there
is no such thing at all as the "Thai Church" or that,
if there is, there shouldn't be. We need to discard the concept.
Where, one wonders, is the Thai church? It certainly
is not found in Chiang Mai or the other northern provinces. Properly
speaking, the people of the North are not even ethnically Thai;
they are Thai Yuan or, again, "khon muang," the People
of the Muang. Are the Thai-Chinese churches of Bangkok "Thai"
churches? Karen. Hmong. Ahka. Lahu. Isan. Are the churches in
the southern province of Trang "Thai" churches? Is Second
Church, Bangkok, a "Thai" church, when a significant
portion of its members are transplanted Northerners? If one adheres
to a strict ethnographical definition of Thai-ness, it turns
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out that a mere handful of CCT churches are "really
Thai." The huge majority is something else-either entirely
or in part. It is all but impossible, in any event, to even arrive
at "a strict ethnographical definition of Thai-ness."
In this light, a standard history of the churches in Thailand
should be entitled just that, "A History of the Churches
in Thailand," rather than "A History of the Thai Church."
Could one include a chapter on Karen church histories in Thailand,
for example, in a book on the history of the "Thai" church?
Third, interstitial
history encourages church historians to look to the margins of
the church in Thailand for their subjects. It encourages the writing
of tribal church histories. It encourages an emphasis on local
church history. That history also directs our attention to rethinking
the boundaries of church history. It would be an exciting enterprise,
for example, to write a history of the culturally related ethnic
Tai churches of Laos and Isan, largely ignoring the national boundary
that runs between them.
Thongchai
Winichakul's presentation to the 8th International Conference
on Thai Studies, in sum, offers a stimulating, potentially productive
re-thinking of how we conceptualize the writing of church history
in Thailand. It offers new subjects for study and new avenues
for reflection. That presentation, in particular, puts the relationship
between Western missions and the churches of Thailand in a new
light. One could wish that the author would write in somewhat
less dense academic-ese, but even so this is an important paper;
no word fits it better than "stimulating."
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