With its takeover of China in 1949, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) launched a series of military actions, including the Campaign to Suppress Counterrevolutionaries (zhenya fangeming) from 1950 to 1955. These actions consolidated the Party's control over borderland regions and drove both perceived and actual adversaries of the new regime out of China. However, subsequent political movements, including land reform (1955–56), and the Great Leap Forward (1958–60), triggered a large-scale exodus of ordinary people. In the northwestern border regions of Yili and Tacheng in Xinjiang province, 74,570 individuals relocated to the Soviet Union between mid-April and May of 1962.Footnote 1 In the southern border regions, specifically in Baoan County of Guangdong province (now part of Shenzhen City), more than one million people crossed the border river into Hong Kong in the pre-reform and opening-up era.Footnote 2 Additionally, between January and May 1962, about 71,000 people, predominantly Korean Chinese, migrated from China's northeastern borderland to North Korea.Footnote 3 Between 1959 and 1961, an estimated 307,300 people emigrated from Yunnan province across the border.Footnote 4
In the early years following the CCP's rise to power, the Yunnan–Burma borderland witnessed an extraordinary wave of migration. A significant number of Yunnan's border residents covertly crossed into Burma for resettlement. Archival evidence and official statistics reveal that between 1951 and 1960, 4,260 households and 19,007 people migrated from Menglian County in Pu'er City to Burma. This accounted for 44.6 per cent of the total households and 41 per cent of the county's population.Footnote 5 The scale and intensity of this migration were without precedent in the region's history.
The extensive scale of emigration from the borderlands had a significant impact on border security and stability, and concurrently challenged the legitimacy of the Communist regime.Footnote 6 To counter these challenges, the CCP implemented an array of measures. However, the effectiveness of these measures varied significantly among different regions. Along the southern border, the local authorities relied primarily on persuasion and augmented border control but were impotent in halting the exodus. On the northeastern border, conversely, the Chinese government manifested a more tolerant stance toward illegal border crossings in a strategy to maintain good relations with North Korea. In contrast, worsening Sino-Soviet relations led the northwestern borderland areas to adopt a mix of diplomacy, indoctrination, and military force to address the issue. Despite these efforts, the overall effectiveness of the countermeasures was limited: they neither halted emigration nor attracted a substantial number of returnees. Exceptionally, the Yunnan–Burma borderlands deviated from these trends: the years 1958 to 1960 witnessed a remarkable wave of return migration, with 3,413 households and 13,677 persons—comprising 81.4 per cent of the households and 73.2 per cent of the population that had previously fled.Footnote 7
Current scholarly analyses of the mass exodus have largely concentrated on structural forces that propel such movements. These forces include interference from foreign powers, domestic political constraints, economic hardships, and widespread famine.Footnote 8 While these elements undeniably served as catalysts for the exodus, comprehending their nuanced impact on the decision-making processes of borderland inhabitants necessitates a more intricate and detailed examination. Moreover, existing literature offers scant insight on the return of the refugees. Several critical questions remain unaddressed: How did the local populace navigate the tumultuous period following the establishment of the People's Republic of China (PRC)? What measures did local governments undertake to curb mass migration, and what strategies were employed to encourage returnees? How did their cross-border movements influence the formation of their national identity? By addressing these questions, we may deepen our understanding of how borderland people were integrated into the new communist regime and gain insight into the complex interplay between micro- and macro-political mechanisms in nation-state building.
Over the past three decades, an expanding body of literature has enriched our understanding of border crossings, illicit trafficking, and borderland politics, providing profound insights into the process of state-building and the intricate responses of borderland communities to the penetration of state power.Footnote 9 These scholarly contributions challenge traditional political narratives that portray borderlands merely as territories to be tamed and governed by the state.Footnote 10 Instead, they reveal the borderlands as vibrant arenas for creative cultural production. Departing from conventional state-centred perspectives, these studies foster alternative narratives, engaging deeply with the unique subjectivities and experiences of borderland peoples.Footnote 11
Recent scholarship on the Yunnan–Burma borderlands has increasingly focused on ethnographic research that highlights the complex subjectivities of borderland communities. For instance, Wen-Chin Chang's work views the borderland not as a periphery but as a transnational popular realm. She elucidates the ways in which Yunnanese Chinese merchants have transformed what was once considered a socio-political margin into a bustling economic hub through their engagement in cross-border trade.Footnote 12 While her research offers an illuminating exploration of the migratory experiences of Kuomintang (KMT) soldiers and their descendants in northern Thailand, it leaves unexplored the complexities of ethnic minorities and their intricate interactions within a broader political landscape.
From a political perspective, James Scott interprets the migratory movements of upland peoples within the mountainous territories known as ‘Zomia’ as an intentional evasion of valley state governance. In Scott's view, these upland communities embody a form of virtual anarchism, actively avoiding state incorporation and obstructing the rise of state structures within their social fabric.Footnote 13 This notion, however, contrasts with Jean Michaud's analysis, which identifies the existence of several small, fragile, and loosely connected states within the region.Footnote 14 With the advancement of state-building initiatives in the first half of the twentieth century, these once pre-modern ‘Zomia’ regions have progressively been subsumed under the jurisdiction of modern states. This transition has led to a nuanced shift in the relationship between borderland people and state governance. Although many continue to traverse borders as if the state's presence is negligible, their activities are increasingly subject to scrutiny by modern state authorities. The predicament they now confront involves complex encounters, negotiations, and compromises with nation-states in the broader context of modernisation and globalisation. These multifaceted interactions demand a more profound exploration of the nuanced relationship between state power and the everyday politics of ordinary people.
Inspired by Michael Billig's Banal nationalism,Footnote 15 a burgeoning field of inquiry has shifted its focus from macro analyses to a more nuanced exploration of nationalism and national identity within the context of everyday life.Footnote 16 As Orvar Löfgren remarks, ‘the national project cannot survive as a mere ideological construction, it must exist as a cultural praxis in everyday life.’Footnote 17 Nevertheless, the contributions of Billig and a handful of related studies predominantly centre on institutional narratives, often overlooking the lived expressions and practices of ordinary individuals.Footnote 18 In contrast, scholars such as Andrew Thompson have adopted a more actor-oriented approach, emphasising the agency of individuals in shaping, organising, and accounting for conceptions of nationhood and national identity.Footnote 19 Among the fast-growing literature that delves into the daily realities of the Southeast Asian borderland, many scholars diverge from traditional state-centric narratives to investigate the practices and subjectivities of ordinary individuals vis-à-vis state power.Footnote 20 For instance, Sarah Turner, Christine Bonnin, and Jean Michaud reveal the complex challenges the Hmong community faces in securing their livelihoods, and how they employ varied ‘border strategies’ to navigate state control and political boundaries.Footnote 21 This focus on everyday strategies not only underscores the resilience and adaptability of borderland communities, but also highlights the imperative of elucidating the interplay between macro-structural forces and micro-level daily activities.
This study primarily focuses on two counties along the Yunnan–Burma border: Lancang Lahu Autonomous County and Menglian Dai, Lahu, and Wa Autonomous County, which together share a 214-km portion of Yunnan province's 4,060-km border with Burma, Laos, and Vietnam.Footnote 22 The formal delineation of the majority of this border between China and Burma did not occur until 1960, pursuant to the Boundary Treaty between the PRC and the Union of Burma. Historically, from the era of imperial China through to the early years of the PRC, the state's de facto control over these borderlands has been relatively tenuous, resulting in a porous and semi-open border. Despite stringent border surveillance measures, ‘illicit’ cross-border activities with Burma continue to persist. As Michel de Certeau aptly phrases it, ‘what the map cuts up, the story cuts across’.Footnote 23 Local archival sources contain detailed records of these ‘illicit’ cross-border movements, underscoring the state's efforts to consolidate control over the border areas and the challenges it faced in halting these cross-border activities.
The findings in this article involved intensive archival research. These archival materials reveal the strategies taken by local authorities to address the exodus from 1949 to 1966, and offer unique insights into the struggles of ordinary people from the perspective of local government officials. Historically, due to strict restrictions on public access for security and administrative concerns, scholars have been unable to analyse the exodus and return across the Yunnan–Burma border. However, in recent years, the Lancang and Menglian County archives with records dating from the establishment of the PRC to the pre-Cultural Revolution period have been made publicly accessible, enabling the empirical data used in this study. Gaining access to these archives, particularly those pertaining to various political movements, remains a challenge, especially in borderland areas. Leveraging my close personal relationships with local officials and an introductory letter from my affiliated university at the time, I was able to win the trust of the archive departments of Lancang and Menglian.Footnote 24 Consequently, I was granted permission to examine the now open, digitised records at the Menglian County Archives and to photograph the necessary records at the Lancang County Archives. In September 2015 and December 2015, I conducted a comprehensive review of this material at the Lancang County Archives and the Menglian County Archives, respectively, and collected the material employed in this study. My anthropological fieldwork between 2013 and 2018 has afforded a richer understanding of the sociocultural logic underlying the borderland peoples’ exodus and return.
This article is structured as follows: first, it examines the migration patterns along the Yunnan–Burma border from 1949 to 1966, focusing on the crises triggered by state interventions. Next, it scrutinises local authorities’ strategies to secure the border and promote state-building, including efforts to encourage return migration. The article then explores mechanisms of national identity formation among borderland populations, utilising Anssi Paasi's ‘spatial socialisation’ framework.Footnote 25 In conclusion, it synthesises key arguments and underscores the complex intersections of state-building and local agency.
State intervention, everyday life crises and mass exodus
After their defeat by the CCP forces in Yunnan in 1949, some of the KMT forces retreated into Burmese territory, establishing themselves in Shan State. Under General Mi Li's leadership, the KMT made unsuccessful attempts to penetrate Yunnan province and bolster their numbers, including a failed offensive into Yunnan in May 1951, which resulted in heavy casualties but also about 2,000 new recruits from Kengma County of China. Despite military setbacks, the KMT maintained an aggressive presence in Burma. Official statistics indicate that from 1952 to 1954, the People's Liberation Army (PLA) in Lancang County clashed with KMT forces 79 times, resulting in the elimination of 433 KMT combatants and the seizure of 754 various firearms and 8,510 rounds of ammunition.Footnote 26 Similarly, from 1951 to 1954, Communist forces in Menglian County confronted the KMT army in 33 separate encounters, resulting in 220 casualties and the capture of 80 assorted firearms.Footnote 27 During the early years of the PRC, anti-KMT activities were one of the focal points of the CCP's work in the border regions. In response to challenges in Yunnan borderland areas, the CCP emphasised pacification of the region, employing violent suppression as a key tactic.
The frequent outbreaks of violence resulted in widespread social panic, a term employed in this context to refer to a state of fear and uncertainty in response to drastic social changes or perceived threats, among the border residents. The initial onset of this panic can be traced back to mid-January 1949, when the PLA initiated a campaign to seize control of Lancang and Menglian. The fear of war prompted numerous inhabitants to seek refuge in Burma. An informant vividly articulated this fear, stating, ‘At that time, I fled not because there was no food here, but simply out of fear. Almost all armies have looted us in the past. People began fleeing one by one when they heard that the PLA would be arriving soon.’ The subsequent ‘Campaign to Suppress Counterrevolutionaries’ deepened anxiety over being labelled as ‘counterrevolutionaries’,Footnote 28 a label deployed by the authorities to categorise a wide range of individuals and groups deemed to be opposing or potentially opposing the new regime. Indeed, the region recorded notably high execution and imprisonment rates, constituting 0.21 per cent of the population of southwest China,Footnote 29 double the national average. Such punitive measures extended to activities now deemed as politically ‘problematic’, such as theft, gambling, and prostitution.Footnote 30 In Menglian County, the campaign triggered nine instances of escape, leading to the fleeing of 38 ordinary individuals at the end of 1955 after Menglian County launched two operations to hunt down ‘counterrevolutionaries’. Of these, the most notable occurred on 27 October 1955, when four Lahu men, accused of committing larceny, escaped to Burma at midnight, accompanied by twenty family members.Footnote 31 The era was charged by an atmosphere of fears of (false) accusation, imprisonment, and forced labour reform (laogai).Footnote 32 This collective anxiety fuelled the initial exodus of ordinary people in the wake of the region's de facto transition to CCP control.
Subsequently, the implementation of ‘peacefully negotiated land reform’Footnote 33 in borderland areas from 1955 to 1956 engendered what I refer to as an identity crisis among the majority of border residents, contributing to a noticeable increase in emigration among ordinary individuals. By the term ‘identity crisis’, this analysis refers to a state of profound uncertainty and confusion wherein an individual's sense of identity becomes insecure due to alterations in their societal roles or status. The underlying objective of land reform was to impose a new social order upon borderland societies, assigning individuals novel social identities and establishing new norms. However, the reforms challenged customary local practices and threatened private property and land use rights. During this transition, even families subsisting at the margins were overwhelmed by fear that their traditional livelihoods would be irreparably altered, and their meagre possessions subject to confiscation.
Collective fear precipitated widespread flight across the social strata. Statistical data reveals that in Menglian County, 82 households comprising 376 individuals fled in 1956. This migration included seven landlord households (29 people), three rich peasant households (15 people), seventy poor peasant households (327 people), and two other households (5 people).Footnote 34 While landlords and rich peasants comprised only a small fraction of the emigrants during this period, it was the majority of poor peasants who notably represented the emigrant population. In Menglian County, poor peasants and farm labourers constituted 65 per cent of the emigrants.Footnote 35 One striking instance of this trend occurred on the evening of 22 March 1956, when nine households from Mangnuo, a Lahu village, fled across the border en masse. The decision appeared to have been made in a state of extreme panic, as evidenced by the hasty abandonment of possessions, including 3,000 cattiesFootnote 36 of rice, several pigs, and even rice left cooking on the stove.Footnote 37 This scenario suggests that the ostensibly pro-peasant policies were met with resistance even among those theoretically intended by the state to benefit from them. Therefore, to gain a comprehensive understanding of this flight, it is crucial to delve into the motivations driving ordinary people—especially the challenges they confronted in their daily lives—as these challenges likely play a significant role in shaping their decision to leave.
Navigating collectivisation
As the communist government solidified its control over Yunnan by the mid-1950s, emigration from the borderlands persisted unabated. During subsequent nationwide movements, notably the People's Commune and the Great Leap Forward, sweeping collectivisation policies penetrated every aspect of daily life among borderland communities. This intrusion resulted in the systematic erosion of traditional livelihoods, culminating in a society-wide emigration. Official records from Menglian County for the year 1958 highlight the magnitude of this phenomenon: 3,315 households, comprising 15,018 individuals, left the region. These figures correspond to 33.5 per cent of the county's total households and 31.8 per cent of the entire population. A closer examination of the demographics reveals that the majority of these migrants were poor peasants and ethnic minority groups, including 12,956 ordinary peasants (91.61 per cent of the migrants) and 12,209 individuals from the Lahu and Dai communities (80 per cent of the total population).Footnote 38
During this tumultuous period, the individual experiences of borderland residents like Zayo from Banli village, Lancang County, provide a poignant microcosm of the broader societal predicament. Zayo's accounts of his two escape attempts illuminate both the tangible and psychological challenges of this migration. In his first attempt in 1958, Zayo joined fellow villagers in an escape that quickly turned perilous. While crossing a river with a sack of paddy, the sack fell into the water, becoming waterlogged and slowing him down enough for militiamen to catch up and force him to return home. This was no isolated incident; during this period, escape incidents were almost a daily phenomenon in the borderlands. Those fleeing faced not only environmental challenges but also overt intimidation by local militia, who displayed their firearms to discourage escapes. Archival records disclose that in some cases, such intimidation escalated to lethal force, as in an instance where local cadres and militiamen opened fire on escapees, resulting in five fatalities, four injuries, and the separation of two children from their families, their subsequent fates unaccounted for.Footnote 39
Undeterred by the risks and driven by a desperate need to escape the harsh policies, Zayo embarked on a second attempt prior to the autumn harvest of 1959. This time, he partnered with four other youths, seizing an opportune moment to flee while ostensibly transporting cow dung to the field. Without time to notify his family of his intentions, he planned to return for them once he had established a new life in Shan State. Reflecting on that period, Zayo stated, ‘That year, I feared telling anyone about my escape plan. Nobody desired to stay here due to the harsh policies. Cows, pigs, and other livestock might be abandoned. It was not regrettable to give up the land here. I didn't consider my destination; all I wanted was to escape.’Footnote 40 Zayo's story, affirmed by similar stories from other interviewees, epitomises the widespread desperation and fear among the borderland populace, motivating them to abandon even family and property in their quest for freedom and a more stable daily life.
During this period, the organised exodus of entire villages was a frequent occurrence, often coordinated by village leaders in this region. For instance, in Nuofu District, Lancang County, eleven out of twenty-six Lahu villages migrated en masse in 1958.Footnote 41 This pattern of migration is deeply interwoven with both the livelihood strategies and the cultural practices of the Lahu people. Historically, whenever faced with issues like soil degradation or lack of arable land, the village head, known as ‘hka sheh’, would guide the community in resettling elsewhere. This long-standing tradition became a vital adaptive strategy during the era of collectivisation, enabling village leaders to circumvent the disruptions caused by state policies by relocating their communities across the border.
Unlike other borderland areas in China, many local Party cadres also joined the widespread flight during this period. The CCP had actively recruited these individuals to alleviate ethnic tensions and manage local tasks,Footnote 42 but they faced considerable challenges, such as water conservation efforts and the meeting of production targets, particularly during the Great Leap Forward. Some, under the weight of these formidable challenges, chose or were coerced to escape, fearing consequences for not meeting expectations or for failing to prevent the exodus. Intriguingly, some cadres even facilitated the flights.Footnote 43 Menglian County records reveal that 533 cadres, among them 15 CCP members, 38 Communist Youth League members, 54 grassroots cadres, 41 militiamen, and 9 government officials, fled in 1958.Footnote 44
The primary reason for the mass exodus was that collectivisation and associated policies sharply conflicted with the daily lives and concerns of ordinary people. Whereas the state considered the policy central to its ideological agenda, the populace was more concerned with maintaining their traditional livelihood practices and obtaining basic needs like food, clothing, and a subsistence income.Footnote 45 The collision of these divergent perspectives led to catastrophic outcomes for these communities.
Firstly, the state's enforcement of collectivisation profoundly disrupted the customs and daily lives of the people. These intrusions extended into both personal and cultural domains. People were apprehensive that their traditional practices would be abolished. There were fears they would no longer be allowed to wear customary attire or engage in traditional practices such as slaughtering pigs for weddings or cattle for funerals.Footnote 46 Such concerns were heightened by the government's excessive grain levies; people were afraid that they would not have enough for the preparation of traditional glutinous rice cakes and rice wine for festivals. Additionally, there were specific concerns across different demographic groups. Boys were apprehensive about losing opportunities to socialise and date, while girls expressed anxiety about not having sufficient time for traditional activities such as spinning or embroidering new clothing. Women feared that maternal duties would hinder their ability to work and earn gongfen (work-points).Footnote 47 Even leisure activities, which had once been an essential part of daily life, faced encroachment during this tumultuous period.Footnote 48
Secondly, the state's logic of production and distribution stood in stark opposition to indigenous cultural logic. This disconnect was manifest in several ways. In terms of production, traditional views saw production as merely one essential part of daily life. However, the state's emphasis on the supremacy of production overshadowed other aspects of daily life, creating tension and dissonance. Such production-oriented timetables substantially curtailed the time customarily set aside for cultural practices. For instance, following the autumn harvest, the Dai community typically engaged in key activities such as gathering firewood, constructing houses, and weaving, but these traditions were largely compromised during this period.Footnote 49
The contrast was equally evident in the realm of distribution. The state's adoption of the gongfen method was fundamentally at odds with the more communal and equitable distribution systems embraced by many ethnic minorities. The gongfen system specifically excluded non-labouring groups like the elderly and children from food and other distribution, a practice that conflicted sharply with traditional principles such as respect for the elderly and care for the young.Footnote 50
Finally, the immediate impetus for mass emigration stemmed from hunger and a dire scarcity of essential provisions.Footnote 51 According to my informants, this was a time of acute famine, compelling people to seek food across the border. Statistical data highlights the decline in food production during the Great Leap Forward, as grain output in Simao Prefecture (now Pu'er City) fell from 370.39 million catties in 1957 to 293.62 million catties in 1961.Footnote 52 Adding to this crisis, the government escalated its grain procurement efforts: from 16.7 per cent of the total grain output in 1958 to 24.9 per cent in 1959, and remaining above 22 per cent for both 1960 and 1961.Footnote 53 Lancang County similarly observed a decline in grain production, dropping from 130.55 million catties in 1958 to 101.34 million catties in 1960.Footnote 54 Widespread and enduring food scarcity plagued the borderlands, as evidenced by increasing monthly shortages in Menglian in 1960.Footnote 55 By August of that year, nearly 80 per cent of the population found themselves in a food crisis.Footnote 56 To make matters worse, while ordinary people had to endure these hardships, the Menglian government hoarded grain in anticipation of attacks from the KMT, resulting in only a small portion of grain reaching those who needed it most.Footnote 57 In this harsh context, crossing the border became not just an appealing but often a necessary strategy for survival.
We may conclude that the exodus in Yunnan's border areas during the collectivisation era was not primarily fuelled by external factors such as military conflict or political propaganda across the border. Rather, it was a pragmatic response to pressing everyday life crises and the erosion of traditional social and cultural norms. Taking advantage of the porous border, these communities engaged in actions that were more of a resilient and adaptive strategy to reclaim their living spaces and re-normalise daily routines, rather than mere reactions to external political stimuli. Everyday concerns took precedence over political factors in influencing the residents’ decisions to leave or stay in this period.
Escaping repression
Local communities faced not only severe restrictions but also fluctuating policies regarding religious freedom, catalysing a considerable migration of religious adherents in this period. An archival document, quoting a Christian, underscores the government's inconsistent policies towards religion:
The government's stance on religion shifted and vacillated … In 1949, people were driven to flee because of the prohibition of religious practices; during 1951–52, religious activities were permitted; yet, in 1958, they were once again forbidden, triggering a mass departure of religious believers. Despite this, the propaganda claimed that religious practices were reauthorised in 1960.Footnote 58
This policy volatility disrupted the ability of borderland communities to practice their religion and a life grounded in religious ethics. As a result, emigration became a more prevalent option among believers than non-believers, signifying not just a quest for food and a stable life but a pursuit of religious freedom.
In the course of the PLA's efforts to secure control over border regions, an initial wave of mass emigration among religious believers was observed. Christians, primarily evangelised by missionaries from the American Baptist Foreign Mission Society, were suspected of collaborating with the KMT forces and so-called ‘US imperialists’ (meidiguo zhuyi). This suspicion subjected them to heightened violence compared to non-Christian counterparts.Footnote 59 This period witnessed the near-total disintegration of the Christian leadership in Menglian and Lancang: all five pastors and ten of the twelve elders left, fifty-seven of the eighty-eight preachers fled, four were killed, and one was arrested, resulting in a prolonged leadership vacuum within the Christian communities.Footnote 60
With the onset of collectivisation, the state further intruded upon or suppressed religious activities, leading to an enormous outflow of believers. The magnitude of this exodus can be seen in the data from Nuofu, where between 1957 and 1961, 486 Christian households comprising 5,911 persons emigrated. This accounted for 42.4 per cent of the district's total emigrant households and 85.15 per cent of the district's entire emigrant population.Footnote 61 Similarly, in 1958, a staggering 59.8 per cent of the entire population of Mengma Township, Menglian County, including 18 of the 19 monks, chose to flee.Footnote 62 These statistics illuminate a period of immense upheaval, during which both the faith of believers and the very structure of daily life, rooted in that faith, were dramatically undermined.
First and foremost, the era marked a profound transformation and degradation of religious space. Both during and in the aftermath of the War of Liberation, PLA forces and local governments actively dismantled or seized control of various religious institutions such as churches and temples. In Nuofu, officials repurposed the local mission's infirmary to create granaries and offices. The chapel's furniture was also requisitioned for various uses, including personal possession by cadres.Footnote 63 The disregard for religious sanctity extended beyond mere occupation or repurposing. During land reform, the official working group not only inhabited churches and temples but engaged in behaviour that was wholly incompatible with the sanctity of these spaces. A notable incident occurred in August 1956 when an electrical construction team took residence in the Shang Mianzhuang Village church, where they slaughtered chickens and defecated near the chapel. The local community was so outraged by these actions that they rebuilt the church once the team had left.Footnote 64 Buddhist temples were subjected to similar treatment.Footnote 65 In 1958, communist policies and ideologies began to exert a more pronounced impact on these religious institutions. The state forcibly purchased or confiscated property belonging to Buddhist temples, repurposing temple buildings as warehouses or barns, demolishing them in some instances, and taking over temple fields for cooperative use.Footnote 66
Second, religious faith, notably Christian beliefs, came under concerted and aggressive attack.Footnote 67 The state's official stance classified religious belief as a form of backward superstition that would inevitably fade away with advancements in living standards and production.Footnote 68 In line with this, local authorities aggressively promulgated an ideological stance aimed at undermining Christian beliefs. On the one hand, officials propagated ideas such as ‘labour creates the world’ and ‘humans evolve from apes’, directly challenging Christian doctrines such as divine creation. These officials went further by demanding empirical evidence of God's existence, a request that was deeply offensive to the believers. Moreover, the sanctity of religious practices was routinely compromised, with disruptions during prayer sessions involving intrusive government reports or rhetorical questions like, ‘You pray daily, but does God provide your sustenance?’Footnote 69 Coercive tactics were also employed, with some officials explicitly stating that access to grain would be denied for those attending chapel services.Footnote 70 These amplified a pervasive sense of spiritual oppression, exacerbating many believers’ inclination to flee. Such sentiments were further inflamed by the stark contrast with conditions across the border, where religious activities were not only tolerated but thrived,Footnote 71 motivating believers to relocate in quest of unfettered religious practice.
Finally, religious ethics, as well as the quotidian life built upon them, encountered unparalleled challenges. Christians, adhering to Sabbath customs, not only abstained from working on Sunday, but also from activities such as vegetable picking and rice milling. However, local authorities deployed both overt and subtle strategies to coerce Christians into Sunday labour. Particularly during the Great Leap Forward, localities like Donghui, Wendong, Shangyun, and Nuofu either completely forbade or significantly limited Sunday services.Footnote 72 This not only violated deeply entrenched religious convictions but physically exhausted the population. Christians harboured fears of divine retribution, ranging from illnesses and afterlife damnation to potential harm to their livestock.Footnote 73 These fears culminated in drastic actions; notably, the entire village of Wachujie migrated to Burma within four days of being compelled to work on a Sunday.Footnote 74
Simultaneously, local governments viewed the devoted offerings and tithings of believers as a form of ‘religious apportionment’ by the church, leading to a ban on such practices.Footnote 75 Making offerings to the Buddha was also singled out and branded as ‘extremely wasteful’, resulting in strict restrictions.Footnote 76 Under collectivisation, the Dai people, who had over twenty annual religious events in their traditional calendar, saw a drastic curtailment in these practices, which were now deemed wasteful and counterproductive. By 1961, most of the Dai regions had to limit their celebrations to festivals bearing specific ethnic significance, such as the New Year of the Dai people. Even these retained events were scaled down heavily, in size, duration, and cost. Monks were re-categorised as lay labourers and pressured to renounce their religious vocations.Footnote 77 A stark decline in the monastic population resulted from this forced defrocking, as evidenced by the decrease in the number of monks from a hundred and twenty to just two in Shangyun by October 1965.Footnote 78 Moreover, the entire monastic education system was abolished during this period.
For believers, the intricate cross-border networks among various religious communities facilitated a more coordinated emigration. Christians, for instance, frequently consulted churches across the border prior to departure to secure logistical support and guidance. After relocating, local religious communities and relatives in neighbouring countries often provided essential support such as shelter, food, and farming tools.Footnote 79 Stories like that of Zayo—who found both shelter and farm land in Burma through his uncle, a Burmese pastor—underscore the potency of these religious connections. Such organised support provided a stark contrast to the often more challenging experiences faced by non-believers, prompting a greater number of believers to emigrate and reconstitute their lives in foreign lands.
Policy reorientation, return dynamics, and nation-building
While Yunnan borderlanders did manage to escape repressive policies in China by fleeing to Burma, they soon met with a new and distinct array of difficulties. The Burmese side of the borderland, fraught with its own complexities, did not provide an ideal environment for sustainable living. Those who sought refuge in Burma initially believed that they could avoid starvation through their individual endeavours in a stable social environment. However, upon arrival, they confronted a multitude of challenges that pervaded every aspect of daily living.
This leads us to the nuanced struggles entailed in pursuing a stable and sustainable life in a new, unfamiliar setting. For newcomers, permission to live in temporary shelters hinged on acquiring the agreement of the village's headman, typically requiring the disbursement of what was referred to as ‘gift money’. Zafa's statement encapsulates the reality: ‘If we wish to drink the water, burn the firewood, and cultivate the land of this village, we must first pay gift money to become villagers. Only after paying gift money can you live here.’Footnote 80 But the payment of such fees was merely the tip of the iceberg in a region marked by militarisation and fragmented governance.
Multiple forces exerted significant influence over this border region, exacerbating an already precarious environment. Following Burma's independence in 1948, its frontier zones were embroiled in an array of volatile and precarious conditions. Hostilities between the ethnic groups against the Burmese central state, especially involving groups like the Karens and Kachins, emerged alongside a protracted civil war. The KMT's presence and military engagement in the Shan State further compounded the complexity of the situation, as they enlisted soldiers from indigenous ethnic groups and engaged in a long-standing conflict with the Burmese state. As a result, local communities experienced escalated oppression from multiple actors, further deteriorating their living conditions.
Zayo, a refugee who fled to Shan State, illuminated the complex instability of the Burma borderland. According to Zayo, the region was fraught with complex power plays involving KMT troops, Communist forces, the Burmese military, and various bandit groups. Following the Burmese military's takeover, Zayo indicated that male residents were often conscripted to assist in transporting arms and provisions, exacerbating the difficulties of everyday life.Footnote 81 Complementing Zayo's account, Zala, a 70-year-old resident of Dabao Village who had also once sought refuge in Shan State, described the erratic menace of bandit groups:
The bandits would visit the village once or twice a month to plunder pigs and poultry. Any attempt to deter them resulted in physical assault. They took as much as they could. We dared not fight against them since they could easily kill us. We heard the fields were fertile and life was better there, but we had no idea there were bandits before we fled.Footnote 82
These narratives demonstrate the profound disconnect between the expectations of a stable life in Burma and the grim reality faced by the refugees.
The multilayered crisis often compelled early returns among those who initially fled. Individuals such as Zala felt deceived by the disparity between expectations and reality. Enticed by narratives of arable lands, Zala found himself disillusioned by the sterile soil, devoid of the purportedly abundant paddy fields. The harsh realities quickly drained the financial resources of many, forcing them to return before they could find a stable footing in this new land. This pattern unveils a multifaceted landscape of shattered hopes and formidable realities that those in search of sanctuary and livelihood often grapple with in unfamiliar, and often adverse, settings.
At the time, provincial authorities in Yunnan capitalised on the emigrants difficulties, launching propaganda initiatives aimed at deterring emigration and promoting repatriation through bleak portrayals of life across the border. For instance, Menglian County, in a county representatives meeting, outlined what they referred to as the ‘ten unfreedoms’ and ‘ten troubles’ associated with life abroad. These rhetorically constructed categories became focal points in local propaganda strategies to discourage emigration. The so-called ‘ten unfreedoms’ encompassed restrictions on entering and leaving the village, labouring, farming, gathering, collecting firewood and thatch for roofing, hunting, accessing drinking water, giving birth, holding funerals, and personal freedoms. Meanwhile, the ‘ten troubles’ were said to cover deceptions, debts, instances of starvation and homelessness, excessive taxation and apportionment, fines, diseases, fatalities, property losses, arduous work, and lost family members.Footnote 83 While these characterisations bore significant ideological weight and might not accurately reflect the lived realities of emigrants, they demonstrated the state's concerted efforts to dissuade migration by painting a direr picture of conditions beyond the frontier.
The experiences of individuals along the China–Burma border starkly contrasts with that of those along China's northeastern and northwestern borders. While the latter group benefited from favourable policies in neighbouring countries that offered relocation assistance and economic opportunities, those on the southwestern border faced a far more precarious existence due to the political instability in Burma. This forced migrants to constantly re-evaluate their life choices, often considering alternative destinations or even a return to China, depending on fluctuations in China's policy and political landscape.
Reversing the tide
In the era of collectivisation, confronted with the escalating exodus of border residents, local governments gradually realised the need to implement efficacious policies to curtail emigration. Realising that the primary impetus for large-scale migration stemmed from the manifold crises people faced in their daily lives, the CCP understood that excessive use of force as a deterrent would likely be counterproductive, driving even more residents to seek refuge across the border. In a strategic recalibration, local authorities adopted more conciliatory and even tolerant policies, particularly in relation to the Christian communities. This reorientation appeared to deeply resonate with a substantial segment of the displaced population. The majority of returnees were evidently swayed by these pragmatic and more humane measures, seeing in them the prospect for a more stable life upon their return to China.
Official statistics indicate a noteworthy trend of repatriation. For instance, Menglian County recorded the return of 1,322 households consisting of 4,512 persons, in the year 1958, which constituted approximately 30 per cent of the total emigrants for that year. In the following year, the number of repatriated households surged to 1,925 involving 8,436 persons, while a comparatively modest 199 households, or 787 persons, opted for emigration.Footnote 84 Similarly, Lancang County registered the return of 224 households, totalling 2,321 persons in 1958, and witnessed the repatriation of 1,383 households, comprising 5,081 persons, within the initial six months of 1959 alone.Footnote 85 One should note that these figures likely represent an underestimation of the actual reverse migration into China, as these statistics are restricted to those classified as permanent residents under China's household registration system, excluding those who had migrated covertly from Burma.
Central to inducing the repatriation of escapees were the ‘livelihood-centric strategies’, as delineated in official documents like the ‘Propaganda outline’. These strategies were designed to appeal to borderland residents by promising substantial support in rebuilding their daily lives. Local authorities, committed to persuading the migrants to return, put forth a variety of incentives and guarantees. Among these were commitments to protect and maintain personal property, exemptions from certain taxes and loans, leniency on minor offences, and access to essential supplies. Moreover, promises were made to allow flexibility in cooperative participation, ensuring that individuals involved in the assessment of China's resettlement policies had the option to leave following their evaluation.Footnote 86
Additionally, local governments undertook concrete steps to facilitate the resettlement of the returning people. Specifically, in Menglian County, 13 reception stations were established to offer food and travel expenses to willing returnees. Dedicated reception teams in key border villages were tasked with handling resettlement needs, such as housing repair, clothing provision, and healthcare services.Footnote 87 Senior residents from these border communities vividly recall the PLA's strategic use of loudspeakers stationed along the border. These loudspeakers disseminated welcoming messages to China's diaspora. Notably, the range of these auditory broadcasts extended to an area reachable within a three-day walk. Many emigrants became aware of the evolving policies through such broadcasts, which shaped their subsequent decisions to repatriate.
Prompted by the policy transformations, Zayo and Zafa covertly returned from Burma to assess the implementation of the new policies. Having confirmed the policy shifts, both opted to return. The majority of those who had fled earlier made similar choices, enticed by the prospect of restored stability and governmental support. In light of Menglian County's successful approach to facilitating repatriation, the Borderland Work Commission of the Yunnan Provincial Committee disseminated Menglian's report, ‘Key Strategies for Encouraging the Return of Escapees’, among all county committees in the region for potential adoption.Footnote 88
In a concerted effort to halt the large-scale exodus, especially of Christians, and facilitate the repatriation of believers, local governments implemented a series of nuanced initiatives. Extensive publicity campaigns were deployed to clarify the official positions on religious freedom, thereby alleviating the concerns of religious communities and restoring a degree of temporary stability.Footnote 89 Subsequently, a series of faith-friendly policies were implemented. These included protecting the right to worship, restoring churches to their respective congregations, and enabling officially sanctioned religious activities to proceed without restrictions. Concurrently, the propagation of atheistic narratives was curtailed, and a policy mandate was instituted to respect religious faiths. As supplementary measures, local authorities dispensed religious accoutrements such as Bibles, crucifixes, and Christian iconography, and permitted the celebration of religious festivals, including Christmas.Footnote 90
To further institutionalise religious activities in border areas, local authorities forged formal affiliations between churches and temples in borderland communities and their inland counterparts. A pivotal event in this regard occurred between 4 and 11 March 1957, when the first Christian Representatives Conference for Lancang and Menglian was convened in Nuofu. This led to the establishment of the ‘Lancang Christian Patriotic Preparatory Committee’.Footnote 91 In a parallel development, Zha Zhi, a Lahu preacher, received ordination from a pastor based in Kunming, becoming the first legally recognised Lahu pastor since the communist takeover.Footnote 92
In 1961, as a part of efforts to further ensure stability along the frontier, the Yunnan Committee of the CCP's investigative team issued a statement affirming a hands-off approach towards legal religious activities.Footnote 93 It assured that the needs of religious communities would be comprehensively assessed and adequately addressed. This led to a few years of relative religious freedom that persisted until the onset of the Cultural Revolution, effectively halting the mass exodus of believers during this period.
Mapping identity
In the context of mass migratory waves and ensuing repatriation, borderland communities experience a heightened degree of interaction with state apparatuses, engendering a transformative impact on both the formation of individual national identities and the overarching process of nation-building. While extant literature often posits that frequent cross-border movement tends to undermine the sense of national identity among border populations, this study proposes an alternative narrative, asserting that such mobility can, in fact, act as a catalyst for national identity formation. To this end, the study seeks to resolve two central research questions: first, what specific strategies did the Chinese state employ to facilitate the formation of a national identity among its border communities? Second, what underlying mechanisms govern the process of national identity formation in these border areas?
In an intricate endeavour to consolidate its control over these border regions and promote national identity, particularly in scenarios marked by mass migration, the CCP implemented a series of strategic initiatives. Initially, efforts were made to sever cross-border ties and reinforce control over cross-border mobility, effectively facilitating the transition of migratory border inhabitants into Chinese nationals. For instance, cross-border agricultural activities were scrutinised, and local authorities actively dissuade border residents from farming on foreign soil.Footnote 94 Additionally, marital choices were framed within a discourse that encouraged endogamy within China, positing it as a civic responsibility to the nation-state.Footnote 95 Religious affiliations were also directed away from foreign churches to sever ties with ‘imperialism’.Footnote 96 Secondly, the CCP established village-level bureaucrats and household registration systems as a means to exercise direct control over borderland communities.Footnote 97 Lastly, an extensive propaganda campaign was unleashed to instil a sense of national identity and patriotic consciousness among the border inhabitants. Through various means, ranging from film screenings and cable broadcasts to individual conversations and distribution of leaflets, a homogenising nationalist ethos was propagated.Footnote 98 As these multifaceted strategies were systematically implemented, the notion of belonging to a modern nation-state progressively saturated the daily experiences and mindsets of the border communities, effectively weaving them into the fabric of China's national identity and statehood.
However, it is crucial to acknowledge that national identity formation is not solely the work of internal mechanisms but is also shaped by influences from neighbouring geopolitical entities.Footnote 99 Between 1949 and 1966 the various forces operating on both sides of the China–Burma border deployed propaganda campaigns to influence these populations, thereby inadvertently reinforcing their national consciousness. For example, the Chinese government consistently engaged in what it calls ‘comparative education’. This approach juxtaposed various aspects of life before and after the communist transition, contrasted the KMT and the CCP along with their respective miltaries, and evaluated the merits and drawbacks of emigration versus remaining in China.Footnote 100 Simultaneously, external agencies, most notably the KMT, propagated counter-narratives to sway the same population. For example, in 1959 alone, authorities in Nuofu confiscated up to 1,500 different KMT propaganda leaflets, each critiquing life under the Chinese communist regime and lauding the supposed benefits of living in neighbouring countries.Footnote 101 This confluence of factors—from state-sponsored ‘comparative education’ to antagonistic external propaganda—was instrumental in deeply embedding the notion of the ‘nation’ within the mindsets of border communities.
Anssi Paasi's theoretical construct of ‘spatial socialisation’ provides a robust analytical lens through which we can examine the intricate mechanisms governing the formation of national identity consciousness among these communities. Drawing on David Harvey's argument that territoriality is integral to shaping human consciousness and identity, the concept of ‘spatial socialisation’ enriches this analytical framework.Footnote 102 Defined as the socialisation of individuals and groups into distinct, territorially bounded spatial entities, this notion explicitly incorporates elements of space, regionalism, and collective memory.Footnote 103 As these borderland communities interacted with state apparatuses, they undergo a transformational realisation: the absence of a ‘nation’ as an overarching context for their existence is no longer tenable. This obliges them to confront new territorial realities and align themselves permanently with a particular nation-state. Moreover, this spatial socialisation necessitates a greater awareness of governance structures. As border communities recognise that their traditional migratory practices—ones that existed in a time before the fixing of national borders—can no longer be sustained, they are compelled to adapt to the constraints and obligations of living within a nation-state. In the course of regional spatialisation, border territories become integral components of the nation-state, thereby incorporating residents of these borderlands into the national fabric.
The transformation of the Lahu people's identity provides a striking illustration of spatial socialisation mediated by territoriality, particularly reflecting the adaptations of the nation-building processes in the Lahu language. Historically, the Lahu would employ ethnic names to delineate countries or territories, constructing an ethnic-regional framework. In the Lahu language, ‘mvuh mi’ signifies the place inhabited by an ethnic group, as in ‘Thai mvuh mi’ for Thailand or ‘Ma mvuh mi’ for Burma. Before the establishment of the PRC, they used the term ‘Heh pa mvuh mi’ to describe the territories of the Han Chinese, a term associated with hostility and dread towards Chinese authorities. However, the founding of the PRC marked a significant shift in the Lahu's linguistic landscape. The term ‘Zhongguo’ (China) permeated Lahu society, representing not just the Han government but the communal government of all ethnicities. They began to see themselves as part of the ‘Zhongguo Ren’ (Chinese) and embraced the term ‘Zhongguo mvuh mi’ to refer to their new socialist regime. In 1953, under the PRC's policy of Regional Autonomy for Ethnic Minorities, Lancang County became an autonomous region for the Lahu, historically referred to by the Lahu as ‘Lahu mvuh mi’, emphasising their territorial identity. This area has since become an integral part of China, now recognised as part of ‘Zhongguo mvuh mi’. This transition marks a significant shift towards recognising and institutionalising the territorial identities of ethnic minorities within the national framework. The incorporation of ‘Lahu mvuh mi’ into ‘Zhongguo mvuh mi’ symbolises the Lahu's transition into a component of China's expansive territorial identity, moving beyond their regional-ethnic confines. This adaptation signifies the Lahu's incorporation into the modern nation-state framework, completing a process of national spatial socialisation that illustrates a dynamic interplay of historical continuity and transformation within their relationship to the broader Chinese nation.
Conclusion
This article, grounded in research from the archives of Chinese border prefectures, delves into the complexities of migration dynamics, specifically the phenomenon of escaping from and returning to China, during the turbulent period after the Communist takeover. The study unveils how various national campaigns, especially enforced collectivisation and religious restrictions disrupted local lives, provoking social panic and identity crises among borderland communities, thereby inciting a gradual collapse of everyday life. The local response to these crises predominantly involved crossing the border to seek refuge in Burma. Furthermore, the article critically scrutinises the subsequent strategies and efforts by local authorities to address these reactions, aiming to both retain the populace and attract those who had left, while imposing the new state ideologies in the area. By examining these interwoven processes, the article enriches our understanding of how the state and border communities are mutually constitutive, particularly in times of sociopolitical upheaval.
This study corroborates Hjorleifur Jonsson's arguments in Slow Anthropology,Footnote 104 which challenges James Scott's thesis on Zomia by demonstrating that highland communities such as the Iu Mien are not merely avoiding state control but are engaged in complex interactions with lowland society and the nation-state. Far from merely avoiding the state, the Iu Mien and similar communities have a history of participation in tributary systems, refugee regimes, and even state-sponsored sports. Furthermore, given the state's increasing technological prowess—observable since the Second World War and perhaps even earlier—areas once considered as ‘non-state’ like Zomia are increasingly being incorporated into national territories. Within this altered geopolitical landscape, borderland communities find it increasingly challenging to exist outside the purview of nation-states. Thus, the migratory behaviours observed in these communities after the founding of the PRC can best be understood not as a form of escape but as complex, adaptive strategies for negotiating for stability and normalcy amid shifting political landscapes.
The study contributes nuanced insights into the micro-dynamics of state-building and offers a refined perspective on the agency and resilience of borderland communities. It illuminates the inherent tensions that exist between the state's objectives of securing territorial sovereignty and the strategies employed by these communities—strategies often manifesting as ‘illicit’ cross-border movements framed as acts of adaption and daily life reconfiguration. In undertaking these acts of flight and subsequent return, individuals living near the border manage to negotiate state-imposed restrictions for prolonged periods, thereby gaining greater autonomy in their everyday lives. This, in turn, forces the state to reconsider its conceptual framework around migratory practices and individuals who partake in them, resulting in recalibrated policies. Consequently, the mass cross-border migration in response to sweeping policies compelled the state to adopt livelihood-centric strategies, thereby deepening its penetration into the daily lives of its borderland citizens.
This study extends its inquiry into the complex interplay between cross-border movements and the cultivation of national identity within border populations. While cross-border movements present significant challenges to state-making, they simultaneously unveil opportunities for more refined and adaptive governance strategies. These adaptive strategies facilitate what can be termed ‘national spatial socialisation’, thereby contributing to the formation of a national identity within these border communities.
