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• W3204151778 abstract "This paper explores the pioneering work for future-making by one of Myanmar’s non-dominant ethnic groups. Specifically, it examines how the Christian Lisu elite strategically, and somewhat opportunistically, use ‘traditional culture’ to perform ethnicity against the background of their ‘double-minority’ status vis-à-vis the dominant populations of the (Kachin) state and (Myanmar) nation. It analyses heterogeneous social actors and conditions that have influenced a Christian elite’s renewed interest in their pre-Christian litpix traditions, as well as the challenges involved in translating the singularity of its abstraction into various embodied forms. Central to this process is the selection, revision and standardisation of previously marginalised artefacts and practices, placing them in the litpix domain independent of religion (Christianity). These embodied forms are readily tagged as ethnically Lisu whenever assertion of difference is needed. I argue that the emerging litpix space has become a significant discursive site relating to Lisu self-representations of modern selves and relations. It is also crucial in the Christian elite’s efforts to gain competitive political, economic and cultural resources for the future development of the Burmese Lisu (especially the younger generation) while maintaining the church’s important influence on public and private life in the Lisu Christian community. Cet article explore le travail pionnier de l’un des groupes ethniques non dominants du Myanmar en matière de création d’avenir. Plus précisément, il examine comment l’élite chrétienne Lisu utilise stratégiquement (et avec un certain opportunisme) la « culture traditionnelle » pour interpréter l’ethnicité dans le contexte de leur statut de ‘minoritédouble’ par rapport aux populations dominantes de l’État Kachin et de la nation du Myanmar. Il analyse aussi les acteurs et les conditions sociales hétérogènes qui ont influencé le regain d’intérêt d’une élite chrétienne pour sa tradition litpix pré-chrétienne. Finalement, l’article examine les défis liés à la traduction de la singularité de son abstraction en diverses formes incarnées. La sélection, révision et standardisation d’objets et de pratiques précédemment marginalisés sont au coeur de ce processus – les plaçant dans le domaine du litpix indépendant du christianisme. Ces formes incarnées sont facilement étiquetées comme ethniquement Lisu lorsque l’affirmation de la différence est nécessaire. Je soutiens que l’espace litpix émergeant est devenu un site discursif significatif lié aux autoreprésentations Lisu de soi et de ses relations modernes. Ce site est également crucial dans les efforts de l’élite chrétienne pour obtenir des ressources politiques, économiques et culturelles compétitives pour le développement futur des Lisus birmans (en particulier la jeune génération), tout en gardant l’influence importante de l’église sur la vie publique et privée de la communauté chrétienne Lisu. On 14–17 December 2017, Lisu Protestants celebrated their Literature Centenary Jubilee in Pummati of Myitkyina, the capital city of Myanmar’s northern Kachin State. Local community members, Lisu guests outside Myanmar, government officials and leaders of Kachin subgroups gathered together to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the creation of the Lisu Christian script, known as the ‘Fraser script’. Central to the festivities were daytime worship services, transnational fellowship meetings, cultural shows and evening music concerts. People could visit the business area, which was packed with trading stalls selling food, Lisu traditional clothes, handicrafts and Lisu-language music albums. Between 2012 and 2014, I conducted fieldwork on the church singing and socio-religious change of the Lisu in Yunnan’s northwestern Nujiang Prefecture. That doctoral work set the path of my postdoctoral book project on how transnational sound production, circulation and consumption become integral to the Lisu perception and practice of faith on the China–Myanmar border. The conceptualisation of the book benefited from an intensive 40-day field trip (December 2017–February 2018) in Myanmar’s Kachin State and Yangon. Therefore, I was fortunate to attend the Jubilee that drew the Lisu from around the globe during that fieldwork in addition to my interviews with Lisu media practitioners and observations of their studio production. I was intrigued by an apparent paradox I had seen in the Jubilee. It was advertised as a cultural event, but was permeated by Christian formality. It seemed to have provided an opportunity for Lisu participants to share their Christian identity while having consciously incorporated traditional artefacts and musical traditions to articulate ethnic identity. This presented a contrast to what I had observed in Nujiang, where most Christian Lisu still followed the unwritten rule of abstaining from animistic worship, traditional performing arts and other traditional practices deemed inappropriate.11 Some Chinese Lisu explained to me the reason why they were not ‘qualified’ to convert to Christianity was that they were not willing to stop singing traditional folk songs or quit smoking and drinking alcohol. Moreover, ‘litpix’,22 Romanisation of Lisu terms is according to the phonetic system adopted in Xu Lin et al. (1985). All Lisu terms (except personal names) are italicised so that they can be distinguished from the Romanisation of other non-Lisu and non-English words. a Lisu term that was unfamiliar to me, was frequently used to refer to ‘culture’ during my conversation with Lisu participants and in the church and political leaders’ public speech. It appeared in the name of the Jubilee’s organising committee, the Lisu Tot’et be Litpix Zzujei Yong (Lisu literature and culture committee). Pummati, the Lisu land purchased in around 2013 for hosting community events, was appraised as ‘Lisu Litpix Mut’ (the land of Lisu culture). During my time in Myanmar, most people I talked to – Christian leaders of various domains, media practitioners, Bible school teachers and students, and performers of Lisu cultural dance – used ‘tradition’ interchangeably with ‘culture’ to explain to me the meaning of ‘litpix’. But when I asked them to articulate what ‘culture’ stands for, they would turn to specific artefacts, performing arts and customs for reference. Why is there a renewed interest among the Burmese Lisu in their pre-Christian traditions? How does the notion of litpix come into use, and for what purposes? In this paper, I examine a Christian Lisu elite’s attempt to gain access to competitive political, economic and cultural resources to achieve future-making goals through their positive engagement with traditional culture for the performance of self-representation. In particular, I look into litpix’s operations and efficacies as markers of distinction and the ways that this relationship is articulated in practice against the background of the Lisu people’s ‘double-minority’ status both within Kachin State and in the Burmese nation. As I will show, the Lisu elite’s future-making attempt is not only for the development of the future generation but also for their greater involvement. The Lisu are a Tibeto-Burman speaking highland group of over one million who reside across the mountainous areas of southwestern China and Southeast Asia.33 China refers to the People’s Republic of China throughout this article. Over 100 years of migration from western Yunnan southwards to Myanmar, Thailand and elsewhere, the transformative social experiences of the Lisu have been shaped by different factors. The classic anthropological work highlighted the role of new economic conditions in transforming the social structures (Gillogly 2006) and gender relations (Hutheesing 1990) of the small Lisu community in northern Thailand. In Lisu-populated areas of the China–Myanmar border, one important factor for social change has been conversion from animistic practices (Durrenberger 1975) to Protestantism since the early 20th century. Despite constraints facing the Lisu as marginalised members of society, they constantly attempt to establish a resilient path to becoming self-positioned subjects as an autonomous but compliant people. In Myanmar, where Buddhism is deeply intertwined with the country’s culture and the Bamar-ethnic majority, about 90% of the 500,000 Lisu population self-identified as Christians by December 2017.44 Information was obtained in conversations with some church leaders in Myanmar. Kachin State hosts the largest Burmese Lisu population (more than 200,000). It is also home to several other small ethnic groups defining themselves in contrast to the dominating Bamar and Jinghpaw populations yet being part of the Kachin collective affiliation as their primary marker of socio-political identities. In 1955, the national parliament recognised six sub-groups of the Kachin – the Jinghpaw, Lawngwaw (Maru), Nung-Rawang, Lisu, Zaiwa (Atsi) and Lachik – and grouped them under one umbrella.55 For more on the historical formation of ‘Kachin’ and its ambiguous meaning, see Mandy Sadan’s relevant chapter in Ethnic diversity in Burma (2007: 34–76). The word ‘Kachin’ started to serve as an ethno-political category. It is against this historical background that I explore the recent formation of the litpix space by the Christian Lisu elite and how it becomes a significant discursive site relating to Lisu self-representations of modern selves and relations. I should pause to clarify how I use the concept of ‘elite’ among the Lisu. I use ‘elite’ to refer to both long-established church leaders, and emerging leaders of ethnic organisations, politicians and other sociocultural activists. Akin to the place of the village chief (vutddut reitsu) and animist priest (nitpat) in Lisu traditional socio-political organisation, they are regarded by the Christian community members as ‘leaders’ who can guide community development based on their authorities in religious and social knowledge. My Lisu interlocutors identified three groups of Christian elite: church leader, cultural leader and political leader. The so-called church leader – comprised of priests, senior preachers and pastoral team members at various levels – has long been in a monopoly ‘elite’ position among the Burmese Lisu in the sense that institutionalised churches of five denominations have been wielding influence over Lisu public and private life since the latter half of the 20th century. The church leader also constitutes the intellectual authority and remains in control of printed material and public speech, as well as paradigmatic shifts in socio-religious practice. The emergence of leadership in cultural and political domains over the last three decades is a result of a Christian elite’s engagement with changing national economic, social and political circumstances and interaction with the forces of neighbouring Kachin and Burmese populations. General assumptions persist that those who are the ‘elites’ must control material resources (Scott 2008), maintain tight closed networks (Mills 2000 [1956]) and face confrontations with other social groups (see also the introduction of this issue). The Christian Lisu elite in the non-Western, non-industrial context challenge these assumptions. First, their elite position arises not out of any form of superiority but through serving as the community advocate for their ‘non-elite’ people (see also Rumsby, this issue). Second, the foundation of Lisu elite status relies on their interactions, rather than confrontation, with superior groups such as the Jinghpaw and Burmese leaders. The concept of elite, from this perspective, is dependent more on relationships (political, religious, etc.) between (elite) groups than it is on specific qualifications. This echoes the view of Salverda and Skovgaard-Smith’s recent article (2018) that the status of elites are both contested and attributed by people they interact with and relate to. Third, Lisu practice exemplifies how ‘the elites … are adapted and altered under the influence of social changes’ (Salverda and Abbink 2013: 10), as new leadership emerged out of religious authority. In the analyses that follow, I examine through what kind of politics the state, religion, ethnicity and other actors possibly influence the Christian Lisu elite’s renewed interest in their pre-Christian litpix traditions, as well as the challenges involved in translating the singularity of its abstraction into various embodied forms through viable projects. Central to this process is the selection, revision and standardisation of previously marginalised traditional artefacts and practices in the Christian community which are readily tagged as ethnically Lisu when assertion of difference is needed. I argue that the construction of a specifically litpix space independent of religion was crucial in a Christian Lisu elite’s attempt to gain access to political, economic and cultural resources and to legitimise claims to rights for survival and future development of the Lisu while maintaining the church’s predominant influence in the faith community. Complicated ethnic relations in Myanmar have been one of the major issues to which scholars ascribe the country’s long-term political struggle (Gravers 2007; Steinberg 2011). Myanmar is a Buddhist country dominated by the Bamar (approximately 65%), with diverse peoples remaining. Christians in Myanmar makes up less than 10% of the population. Many of the country’s ethnic minorities are Christian, including the Christian-dominated Kachin. Accordingly, inter-ethnic tension and conflict between the Bamar and many of these minority groups often unfold along with religious encounters back to the colonial period (Edwards 2021). The concern about Christian minorities’ loyalty has been a key factor of Burmese Buddhists’ hostility towards Christianity; as a Burmese scholar recently wrote, ‘Buddhist nationalists typically characterise Christianity as a Western religion and accuse Burmese Christians of being disloyal to their own people and country’ (Mang 2016: 157). As one of the eight major ‘national races’ classified by the British colonisers, the ‘Kachin’ is originally a collective term for administration over the region that historically stretched from Northern Shan State to most northern Myitkyina. Officially identified as consisting of six subgroups since independence in 1948, the term ‘Kachin’ acquired new meaning as an ethno-political category during Ne Win’s Burma Socialist Program Party government (1962–1988). The Kachin Independence Organisation and the Kachin Independence Army (KIA) were founded in the 1960s to support the Jinghpaw-dominated Kachin ethno-nationalist movement against the socialist government, even if there were subgroups who had ‘less demands for independence from the state’ (Sadan 2007: 57). The 1989 name change of the country from Burma to Myanmar signified a new national framework of ethnic relations in service of creating a sense of unified nation. This is considered as the newly founded military government, State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC 1988-1997)’s attempt to be inclusive of diverse groups and to distance themselves from the colonial history associated with the name ‘Burma’. The ensuing announcement of a total of 135 ethnic groups served as the foundation for a particular idea of Burmese nationalism. The following State Peace and Development Council (SPDC 1997–2011) proceeded to enforce their version of ‘Myanmarness’ through sponsoring the preservation of the pre-colonial court culture to create one uncontested national history for their legitimacy (Douglas 2007). The Kachin’s long-lasting confrontation with the central government was paralleled and reinforced by projects aimed at creating one official Kachin history and culture, at the expense of the distinct histories and cultures of its internal subgroups. The Kachin Literature and Culture Association was founded in the 1960s by Yangon-based Jinghpaw students (Sadan 2013: 250, 326). Representations of Kachin ethnicity were then controlled by the Christian Jinghpaw leaders’ reinvention of an oral mythology that not only confirmed a nationalist discourse of Kachin kinship but also highlighted the superiority of the Jinghpaw (Robinne 2009). Jinghpaw traditional culture then became a primary political symbol for the Kachin collective identity. The evolution of the manau festival is an echo of such history. Mandy Sadan (2013) has traced the transformative shift in its production, circulation and consumption from a one-day community dance performed around a set of wooden posts and hosted by British officials by the end of the 1920s, to the government-sponsored event since then and the nationalist manau folklore since 1961 where the six manau posts become a modern symbol for the unity of the six sub-groups. The Kachin Lisu have tended to perform allegiance to their designated affiliation for political legitimacy as part of the Kachin and Christian solidarity.66 When some Christian Lisu left Yunnan province and settled down in northern Myanmar in the 1950s, they joined the Kachin Baptist Church until they founded their own Baptist churches in Myitkyina in 1976. There is perhaps no better example than the Lisu participation in the manau festival, although they had no such tradition alone. While an increase of cultural maintenance projects in the socialist period established the Jinghpaw as the advocate of Kachin identity, a parallel endeavour to create a Burmese-oriented national cultural identity as new foundations of the legitimacy of SLORC-SPDC regime was facilitated by state projects in the early 1990s. These included state-sponsored conferences focusing on the value of traditional culture, revived festivals, cultural performances, new museums in each of the states and encouragements to various artistic forms (from a multitude of scholarship, summarised in Douglas 2007: 29). Following the ceasefire of 1994 between the KIA and the Burmese army, the government allowed Kachin subgroups to establish their own community organisations, commonly known as ‘literature and culture committees’, to study their respective histories and cultures. The government also resumed the sponsorship of the manau festivals, seeking to downplay the nature of their military-political intervention in the region by self-presenting as an advocate of Kachin ‘traditional’ culture (Sadan 2013). It is possible that they encouraged the cultural preservation and promotion of Kachin subgroups for similar reasons, as those groups do not only belong to the Kachin but also part of the Union of Myanmar. For whatever causes, this opened up sociocultural spaces for minor ethnic leaders to challenge the Jinghpaw-dominated narrative of Kachin-ness and make assertion of difference. While in everyday interactions there is no practical need to publicly assert a unique identity, at certain moments ethnic distinction becomes essential for those minor groups to earn competitive rights, resources and opportunities locally. It is in these national and regional trends of cultural patronage for ethno-political gain that members of the Lisu literature and culture committee, in coordination with other Christian elite groups, began to recover revised forms of traditional practices and bring them back into community public life. The surge of those Lisu cultural projects led to an emerging indigenous litpix space to which I will now turn. Within the Lisu community outside of people’s everyday religious and ritual life, three significant projects have begun over more than a decade. The founding of the Central Lisu Literature and Culture Committee in Myitkyina, standardisation of selected symbols and traditional practices, and a transnational mega community festival are the intertwined projects that have contributed to the emergence of a specifically Lisu litpix space, which has become a significant discursive site relating to Lisu identity on the start of the transition around 2011. Although regional informal organisations for organising educational and sociocultural activities for local communities had emerged as early as the 1950s, the Central Lisu Literature and Culture Committee (CLLCC) in Myitkyina was not officially registered with the government until 2005. By December 2017, according to one committee member, Sifu Dwe, there were 21 all-Christian committee members including a female district parliament member who worked as a coordinator between the CLLCC and the government.77 Information was gained during my interview with the committee member Sifu Dwe on 23 December 2017, translated by David Ahpu. From the onset, the work of CLLCC was based on one principle: no discussion of ethnic relations, politics or denominational division. As Sifu Dwe explained, ‘Negative report about other ethnic groups was excluded as well in our monthly newspaper. Now we have cultural, religious and political leaders. We have different roles and responsibilities, and our work should not mix.’ Christian rhetoric of a common written language, backed by the authority of churches, dominated the official discourse surrounding CLLCC’s one major task: educating the younger generation to preserve and promote Lisu literature and language. The importance of writing encapsulates two crucial aspects of a distinctly Southeast Asian highland society in microcosm: Christianisation trends with Protestant missionary work among marginalised members of society (although the majority of Lisu conversion occurred earlier in China before the 1950s) and the corresponding creation of a writing system that has offered the power of literacy to them. As Charles F. Keyes writes, ‘it [writing] became possible for previously preliterate peoples to point to books in their own languages as a sign that they are not inferior to dominant peoples’ (1996: 290). Missionaries working among the Lisu created an orthography early in 1917. It has now become the most widely used Lisu script, known as ‘book language’ (tot’et ngot) or ‘Fraser script’ in honour of its creator, James O. Fraser. Since the 1980s, the reintroduction of this Christian script has facilitated the Lisu to reunify themselves as a transnational group (Bradley and Bradley 1999: 81).88 My research also supports such a view. The Lisu priests, pastoral staff members and Bible schoolteachers whom I talked with all stated that most Christian Lisu, regardless of their nationality and dialect area, could use this standard Bible language to communicate. A strong aspiration to ensure the script’s sustainability was made clear in the Jubilee’s theme, ‘living letter’ (sailca ma tot’etzoq). In practice, the CLLCC has set their long-term strategies, which are written on the wall of their office in Pammuti, as: (1) To protect Lisu literature and language; (2) To be willing to study Lisu literature and language; (3) To standardise Lisu language and literature; (4) To make more and all kinds of literatures in Lisu; (5) To use grammar correctly; and (6) To write all Lisu religions in Lisu language.99 Translated by the author from the Lisu original texts. In practice, Lisu language education currently relies on a dual teaching system: the long-term mother-tongue education provided by the church and the additional language class in the afterschool programme in Lisu-populated public schools since 2012.1010 The Ministry of Education reintroduced in June 2012 the teaching of ethnic languages – part of the new regime’s educational and political reforms – in the afterschool programmes. David Morse, the third generation of the American Morse missionary family and a native Lisu speaker,1111 The Morse family hailed from the American Church of Christ and first started to evangelise among the Lisu in Tibet and China in 1921. They left China in 1950 and continued their mission in northern Myanmar until they were ousted by the military government. Their North Burma Christian Mission has been based in northern Thailand since 1972 (Morse family nd). devised the Advanced Lisu Script compatible with all standard typewriters and computer keyboards in the 1990s, and played a key role in helping acquire Lisu Unicode status in 2008 (Bradley 2012: 51). Two American Lisu leaders, Pastor Lawu and Ahdee Gwa, expressed most strongly at the Jubilee: ‘It is so important to use high tech [Lisu Unicode] for online publication and communication. It is a key to sustain our Lisu identity in the future.’ While senior church leaders work with the CLLCC to promote faith-based literacy, they are rarely involved in the CLLCC’s cultural projects. This has a lot to do with the church’s lasting devaluation of pre-Christian traditions, which led to the marginalisation of traditional practices and customs in the converted Lisu community. This constructed boundary historically has been linked to a missionary discourse of opposing ‘religion (Christianity)’ against ‘tradition’. Both of these categories in the present Christian Lisu elite’s future-making endeavour undertake their appropriate roles through a high degree of non-interference in practice. This has already been seen in the interpretation of the revised form of the ritual with animist origin as a purely secular cultural performance, thus permissible in the ‘litpix’ domain. The word lit-pix is officially translated by the CLLCC as ‘culture’. In the English–Lisu Dictionary (2009), edited by India-based Christian Lisu scholar Ahby Yay (Avia) and his wife Ziby, the first part of the compound, ‘lit’, has multiple meanings, including law, ceremony and regulation. David Morse explained the term to me as ‘ways of doing things’, such as kids being forbidden to step over the older lying on the bed and ritual protocols in funerals and weddings.1212 His explanation resembles the meaning of Akha term zah as ‘an extensive system of rules for proper ritual and non-ritual action’ (Kammerer 1996: 326); the Karen equivalent ‘ta a lua la’ (custom) as a common Karen knowledge of the tradition (Gravers 2007: 231); or the Hmong term ‘kevcai’, which can be translated as ‘customs’ or ‘tradition’ (Ngo 2009: 155). Within the music community, a small group of Lisu media activists (musicians, singers and songwriters) have gradually acquired a special influence for their ability to mobilise community members through music. The word ‘litpix’ is used often in the so-called ‘cotshit mutgguat’ (songs of people) with lyrics aimed at educating people to be proud of being Lisu. One such representative use is in ‘Lisu’, an early song of Ah Si, one of the most renowned Lisu songwriters who started to write Lisu songs in 1996. The first line of this song, ‘Rot litpix, rot tot’et ngot, rot reitngot dai, nu zhiqai niqma guabbei’ is a call for action that ‘we [Lisu] should accept and praise our culture and language with our heart’. Whether in the CLLCC’s name or in the above song ‘Lisu’, ‘litpix’ is used as an abstract concept. The formation of litpix space in practice, however, comprises a multiplicity of its embodiments. The orally transmitted litpix knowledge and practice used to be passed down from parents to children and from village elders to community members, and therefore multiple versions circulated. By contrast, today members of the Lisu literature and culture committees at various levels teach community members, especially the younger generation, definitive explanations of traditional artefacts and fixed forms of music and dance performance. The process of standardisation relates to the question of what counts for Lisu tradition, a question rarely publicly discussed or debated. Instead, the cultural leader automatically becomes the major agent for the education of Lisu traditions; as Michelle Zack says in her recent book on Lisu, ‘Not that many young people really know about il-li [synonymous with litpix] Lisu today. They learn about culture [concrete forms of litpix] from the Cultural Committee, not their parents’ (2017: 250). The decision of what constitutes the litpix space is often appropriate to the national and global renderings of ethnicities. For example, ethnic groups are always encouraged to wear traditional costumes to assert their ethnicity in a formal manner. One important manifestation of the purpose of litpix patronage for performing ethnicity is seen in the new creation of a youth cultural dance. It was created in 2011 and first performed at the first Lisu transnational New Year festival in Myitkyina. The creator, Lazarus Fish, was born into a prestigious Lisu preacher family in Putao, one of the major Lisu settlements in northernmost Myanmar, and received his PhD in Theology in the United States. Fluent in Lisu, Burmese and English, Lazarus has become a leader who works across religious and cultural lines. He established Myanmar Agape Christian Mission in 2002 with multifaceted ministries including Yangon Christian College and Seminary (YCCS), a border training centre, and a media-and-media ministry. This cultural dance incorporates two traditional dance forms, guakiq (literally, ‘dance’) and qailngot (translated as ‘the tune played for kicking feet’). It is accompanied by a miscellany of pre-recorded music of synthesised traditional instruments in a musical style that is not traditionally associated with the Lisu. In the stage performance, young dancers of both sexes always wear fashioned ethnic costumes in the regional style of Putao. The standardised choreography lasts about 12 minutes. It features constant change of dance formation and interactions between male and female dancers, which provide the viewers with a compact sociocultural landscape of Lisu material culture, hunting and agricultural activities, and other traditional customs. These include the demonstration of the once unwelcome courtship and wine-drinking practices. The creation of t" @default.
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• W3204151778 title "Traditional culture as a vehicle for Christian future‐making: ethnic minority elites pioneering self‐representations in northern Myanmar" @default.
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