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"The Mekong is not only a great river with a turbulent, largely
unknown past. Increasingly, there seems every reason to fear that it is
a river with an endangered future." Milton Osborne, in his preface
to The Mekong: Turbulent Past, Uncertain Future,
captures much of the essence of this fascinating Southeast Asian river,
which runs an immense three-thousand-mile course, from the wild uplands
of Tibet to a sprawling delta in the South China Sea.
Passing through six countries, and with extraordinary fluctuations in
its fortunes as well as its water level, the Mekong has played a key role
in defining the history of the civilizations that have lined its banks.
Osborne's considerable quest is to lead us through two millennia of exploration,
discovery, livelihoods, war, and development that have marked the river's
course.
In fact, this is not quite as daunting as it may sound, for one of the
more unusual aspects of the river's history is just how little we know:
as an indicator, the source of the Mekong was only determined with pinpoint
accuracy in 1994. Osborne returns to this central theme again and again
as he plows through centuries of history-why should it be that while great
rivers like the Nile and the Amazon have a permanent and lasting place
in Western mythology, the Mekong has always remained elusive, and if not
exactly unloved, at least un-eulogized?
Certainly, the river's geography is part of the reason. The impressive
Khone Falls, at the border of Laos and Cambodia, vanquished any ideas
of using the Mekong for river trade to China, as the French Mekong Expedition
discovered in 1866. The expedition, which Osborne covers in colorful detail,
was led by Ernest Doudart de Lagr¨¦e and his feisty second-in-command,
Francis Garnier, and although doomed from the start-plagued by inadequate
preparation, serious illness, and its members' seemingly endless penchant
for squabbling-it began a series of attempts by various parties to find
a way around the falls. France later attempted an ingenious but ill-fated
steam-engine-based solution, while eager locals continued to assure generations
of would-be navigators that at peak wet season, when everything was in
just the right position, a passage could be obtained.
But despite many optimistic approaches, the falls were never navigated
successfully, and commercial interests were never able to utilize the
river for their own means. This, and the grim fact of the almost continual
upheaval in the lower Mekong from the 1950s onward, has led to the Mekong
maintaining its mystique well into the modern age, when many other great
rivers across the world have been "explored to death." In a
fascinating aside that emphasizes how history remembers some and not others,
Osborne notes that in the 1870s Garnier shared an honored geographical
award in Antwerp with another new explorer of the day-one David Livingstone.
But the flipside to the Mekong's more subdued position in the annals of
Western history is that in many places the river maintains much of the
original charm and grandeur that so impressed and exasperated the early
explorers. Particularly in Laos and in northern Cambodia, large sections
of the river are still recognizable from Garnier's nineteenth-century
descriptions, and the effects of industrialization and mass development
have yet to be seen.
Enjoy it while you may, says Osborne, as he turns to the stark realities
of the river's future. Since the early 1990s, the Mekong River Commission,
various international-aid bodies, and the governments of the affected
countries have been embroiled in one of the great late-twentieth-century
environmental conundrums-to dam or not to dam? China, which has been characteristically
unilateral in its attitude toward the development of the Mekong basin,
has already constructed the Manwan dam, and there are several more in
the pipeline.
The effects that these dams may have on the countries further down the
Mekong is easy to imagine. In Cambodia, for example, every wet season,
the silty deposits put down by the fast-flowing Mekong cause the river
to slow, back up, and reverse its flow into the Tonle Sap river and from
there into the great Cambodian lake, a unique natural phenomenon that
brings a huge fish harvest with it. With Cambodia reliant on fish as its
staple diet, a change in the river's flow and character could be catastrophic.
Add to the ecological melting pot a mix of illegal logging, less-than-reputable
governments, pollution, and overfishing, and the recipe for environmental
disaster looks dangerously imminent, as the author sadly notes.
Having lived and traveled in the region for more than forty years, Osborne
describes his various encounters and memories with a touching and sincere
tone. Much of the mid- to late- twentieth-century history will be well-known
to Southeast Asia enthusiasts, and the book is at its best when charting
the early attempts of the Western world to come to grips with the turbulent
river. The Mekong expedition may have been doomed, but how many people
knew about the swashbuckling and occasionally rather louche antics of
Diego Veloso and Blas Ruiz, two sixteenth-century Iberian explorers and
freebooters who escaped war and piracy and made their way into the Cambodian
court, charmed the king, wooed the ladies, and for a while held the fate
of the beleaguered country in their hands? Osborne treats their stories
with flair and wry humor.
If the notion of a "river history" is rather lost in the Khmer
Rouge and Vietnam War section of the book, it is largely because the dramatic
events of those years necessarily overshadow any idea of a separate, definable
story of the Mekong. Yet, as in all eras, the river remains the lifeblood
of the region, and with careful management and a large helping of luck,
will be allowed to remain so for generations to come. Milton Osborne's
book is a welcome addition on a subject that has been surprisingly neglected.
Sarah Stephens is a writer who lived beside
the Mekong for several years.
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