The Marmot’s Hole

James Brooks of the NYT seems to have developed an interest in Mongolia as of late, as the steady stream of stories about that once media-neglected country would attest. Anyway, Mr. Brook’s latest piece is on the Mongolian rock group “Hurd,” a group I previously described as “the ugliest collections of musicians ever assembled since the Traveling Wilburys. Perhaps even the Moody Blues.” Well, the NYT has a pic of them, so you’ll get somewhat of an idea of what we’re talking about. As for the article itself, it deals primarily with a canceled concert the group was supposed to put on in Inner Mongolia and the concerns the Chinese authorities may or may not have concerning Mongolian ethnic nationalism on the southern side of the Gobi:

ULAN BATOR, Mongolia - China built the Great Wall more than 2,000 years ago to keep out invaders from the north. But the Chinese are having a harder time repulsing modern interlopers like these: long-haired Mongolian men in black, whose office decor features a wolf pelt, a portrait of Genghis Khan and a music store poster of Eminem.

So the Chinese police got nervous when they heard that Hurd was crossing the Gobi Desert, coming down from Mongolia, 600 miles to the north. With their new hit CD, “I Was Born in Mongolia,” Hurd, a heavy metal, Mongolian-pride group, was coming for a three-day tour, culminating Nov. 1 with a performance in Hohhot, capital of the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region.

“The morning we were to get on the train, the translator guy called and said ‘Your performances are cancelled,’ ” Damba Ganbayar, Hurd’s keyboardist and producer, said glumly as he lounged in a white plastic chair. “He said, ‘I will call with details.’ I never got the details.”

The details, according to reports from Hohhot, were that riot policemen and trucks surrounded the college campus where the group was to play. They checked identity cards, detained four people overnight and dispersed about 2,000 frustrated concertgoers into the autumn night.

In the next several days, the Chinese authorities shut down three Mongolian-language chat forums, according to the Southern Mongolia Human Rights Information Center, a New York-based group that tracks “Chinese colonialism” in what some call the southern end of Greater Mongolia.

“Banned in Hohhot” may not have an epic ring to it, but it is a sign of the times.

Hurd might be ugly, but let no one doubt their patriotism:

On the northern side of the border, Hurd’s nationalist identity has grown over the last two years, a time when the group did not record any new songs.

“Hurd’s national pride and love of homeland takes the ethos of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born in the U.S.A.’ to a new level,” said Layton Croft, an American foundation representative and musician here, who attended one of their concerts in October. “There is a loyal, mostly rural, Mongolian fan base for such music.”

Hurd’s Mongol nationalism is aimed at that audience: young Mongolians who now leave the country for work, the men in construction in South Korea, the women as ‘hostesses’ in Macao.

Now, of course, we here at the Marmot’s Hole can pride ourselves on having scooped the NYT by just over three weeks with this post back on Nov. 4. Taking advantage of the interactive Internet medium, we also got this comment from Jing that really deserves further elaboration should he pop by and care to go into it further:

The so-called “South Mongolian Human Rights Information Center” [which is cited in the NYT piece -- Marmot] is nothing more than a veneer for an organization of ethnic schismatics (I prefer this term over Xinhua’s official designation, splittists, which I find a bit clumsy).

I find it somewhat amusing that a nearly hundred year old plot originally concocted by Bolshevik agents has gained new life in America.

Frankly, I have no clue how the Bolsheviks enter into the equation of Mongolian ethnic nationalism in Inner Mongolia. Imperial Japan, perhaps, but the Bolsheviks? Anyway, Jing, if you’re reading this, I’d be keen to read your explanation.

The other NYT piece — from Nov. 20 — dealt with the pressure Mongolia is coming under from some groups to serve as a haven for North Korean defectors. What I found interesting, however, was the description of just how Mongolia’s relations with the two Koreas have changed since the Cold War period:

This fall, while three Mongolians are studying in colleges at Pyongyang, the North Korean capital, a Mongolian Army unit is training in South Korea.

But the economic relationship with the Koreas is lopsided, vastly favoring South Korea. There are daily flights between here and Seoul, about 20,000 Mongolians are working in South Korea and South Korean investors here are building apartment blocks, television stations, a shopping center and a cellphone company.

Refugee advocates argue that Mongolia can afford to take a harder line with North Korea, a nation that carries little economic weight here.

“There are nearly 20,000 Mongolian workers in South Korea; that was a big leverage,” said Kim Moon Soo, a South Korean congressman who sought to win support for a processing camp in meetings with his Mongolian counterparts here on Nov. 6. Interviewed later in Seoul, he said, “If Mongolians want to come to South Korea, why can’t North Koreans go to Mongolia?”

For what it’s worth, Mongolia actually provided the DPRK with a grant-in-aid package in late November 2003. Quite remarkable when you consider that Mongolia is one of the highest per-capita recipients of foreign aid on the planet. Also worth noting is that even during the Cold War, Mongolia and North Korea were never really that close, as Aidan Foster-Carter pointed out in 2001 as he was discussing the role Mongolia was playing for North Korean defectors:

Finally, let’s not forget Mongolia. Never a close ally even in the days of international communism - Kim Il-sung looked askance at the Mongols’ unswerving loyalty to Moscow - relations have got worse in the post-Cold War era. Yet again there are tawdry tales of crime. Mongolia expelled two DPRK diplomats for their latest scam (more lucrative than watches) - passing fake $100 bills. Last year North Korea closed its embassy in Ulaan Baatar: ostensibly to save money, but also to express displeasure for Mongolia’s inviting Kim Dae-jung for a state visit. Now they have another bone to pick.

Mongolia is emerging as a transit haven for North Korean refugees - despite the vast distances, gruelling terrain and harsh weather they must brave to seek such sanctuary. Seven centuries after Genghis Khan laid waste to Korea, his heirs are kinder to North Koreans than their own latter-day khan is. So roll history’s wheels.

As always, you’re encouraged to read the links on your own.