The Nameless Menace

In Greece, in Russia, in China, there is a word for it: a Communist is called a Communist. But not in Laos. A man who follows Moscow or Peking is called a Pathet Lao, a Neo Lao Haksat, sometimes a "tool of a foreign power" (unnamed), but never called what he is, for in Laotian, there is no word for Communist. This state of affairs may not last long after last week's events in the landlocked mountain kingdom carved out of French Indo-China, bordered on the north by Red China and the northeast by Red North Viet Nam.

Ever since Laos's right-wing Premier, Prince Souvanna Phouma, 56, last November took his pro-Communist half brother Prince Souphanouvong, 45, into the coalition government as a price for ending the war between the regime and the Communist-led Pathet Lao army, people had been warning the Premier. But the Premier insisted that his half brother was not a Communist; insisted that he was only a "neutralist," so how could there be any danger from Souphanouvong's new pro-Communist Patriotic Front?

Reds in Ruins. The progovernment parties, relaxedly getting ready for an election, split their strength. The Patriotic Front of the nameless ones were solidly united. They stumped the villages asking Laotians, "Where is the U.S. aid? Has any of it reached here?"--and had the effrontery to suggest that they would do a better job of distributing it. No one could deny that much of the $40 million worth of aid that the U.S. has funneled annually into Laos had got no farther than the pockets of government officials (TIME, Nov. 4). But this was not all the nameless ones did. As part of the truce, two battalions of Communist Pathet Lao soldiers had been integrated into the royal army. Ignoring commands, they politicked in the villages. Favorite stunt: before entering a remote village, they dismounted from jeeps and put on ragged clothes, claiming that they had just come from a village that was well off "until the Americans bribed the government into resuming the war." Now, said the Reds, pointing to their rags, they were ruined.

Fertility First. The day before election was Balung Fai, the annual spring Fertility Festival. In the administrative capital of Vientiane (pop. 35,000), all except the most respected males were out from dawn to late at night, drinking and parading up and down the streets, carrying phallic symbols, hoisting up bamboo poles atop which puppets were shown in the act of sexual intercourse; French postcards were pinned on men's sleeves, and men dressed up like women submitted to mock rape in the streets while the women stood by giggling.

Next morning, pulling themselves together, the men and, for the first time in history, the women of Laos filed into poll ing stations set up in Buddhist temples. The results proved a shock for complacent Premier Prince Souvanna Phouma. Prince Souphanouvong's pro-Communist Party appeared to have won eight seats, neutralist candidates supported by the Communists captured four others--twelve of the 21 races. In the royal seat of Luang Prabang, Reds won three of four contests. The Red Prince now expects to control 20 of the 59 seats in the National Assembly.

In his office at the U.S. Operations Mission warehouse at Vientiane (which serves as his headquarters as Minister of Planning) the Red Prince Souphanouvong still insisted that, despite the months he spent in Red China, "I don't know what a Communist is." The time had obviously come for more Laotians to find out.

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