FEBRUARY 27, 2018
A bitter dispute has left in limbo grand plans to restore what some believe is the tomb of a former Thai king.
By JARED DOWNING | FRONTIER
THE CENTURIES-OLD tomb of King Udumbara of Thailand is only a few hundred meters from one of Myanmar’s most popular attractions. Yet the throngs of tourists on their way to the famous U Bein Bridge never stop for photos, nor even glance in its direction.
Why would they? The crumbling, weedy brick pagoda that marks Udumbara’s final resting place is adorned only with a wire fence and a faded “keep off” sign. Most locals don’t even know about it. Only the people living nearby, who sell trinkets to tourists and graze their cattle in the grass under the tomb, will tell you it contained the ashes of a king.
“Thirty years ago I met with an old lady, 85 or 86, and she told me that [pagoda] is the burial place of the Thai king. She did not know his name,” said architect Win Maung, who helped excavate the site in 2013.
Acting on local lore, a joint team of Thai and Myanmar archaeologists delved into the pagoda. They discovered an urn decorated in Thai style and containing the remnants of a monk’s robes. They concluded the ashes belonged to Udumbara, a reluctant 18th-century Siamese monarch who gave up the throne and became a monk before being captured by Burmese invaders in 1767 and brought to the royal capital of Amarapura.
Yet some were skeptical about those conclusions, citing a lack of DNA evidence and going so far as to suggest that it was all a scheme to acquire funding from the Thai crown, which had offered to help with the tomb’s restoration. The dispute became a bitter mess of finger-pointing and he-said-she-said. It didn’t exactly kill the restoration effort, but it did leave the project in administrative purgatory.
When Frontier visited the site in November, its de-facto caretaker, an aspiring historian named U Lin Lin Amara, displayed oversized vinyl photographs showing energetic-looking teams of Thais and Myanmar, plus a few foreigners, digging and dusting. There were also shots of the urn itself, its iridescent glass mosaic little marred by the centuries.
U Mickey Heart, second from left, shows a Thai group what some believe is the tomb of King Udumbara at Lin Zin Khon Cemetery in Amarapura on October 3, 2014. (Teza Hlaing | Frontier)
Five years after the excavations, the urn and its ashes are currently locked away in Mandalay City Hall, and the tomb itself is all but abandoned, its small stupas melting into weeds and trash. Only the section where the urn had been discovered is maintained, sheltered by a small pavilion.
To be fair, the history of Udumbara is somewhat hazy. The quiet, religiously-inclined prince is said to have held the throne for only three months. He was captured in 1767 and is said to have died at the newly-built Burmese royal capital of Amarapura, just south of Mandalay. As Win Maung tells it, he was buried in his own monastery, which over the centuries transformed into a cemetery for non-Buddhists. Yet the exact details of the former king’s death and burial were preserved only in local folklore.
Win Maung is one of Myanmar’s foremost experts in traditional art and architecture. He helped design the replica of Mandalay Palace in the 80s, and still oversees the construction of Buddhist monuments. When he first heard the Udumbara story, he couldn’t believe how such an important monument could just lie there in plain sight but never be properly excavated.
The impetus for the investigation came in 2013, when the city of Mandalay announced plans to relocate the cemetery where the alleged tomb rested. It was the perfect opportunity for Win Maung and other believers in the Udumbara story to uncover the truth.
Archaeologists from Myanmar and Thailand excavated the central pagoda and the foundations of what they believed had been Udumbara’s monastery. They uncovered many remains (it was a full cemetery, after all), but one in particular stood out: An urn fashioned from a Thai-style alms bowl that contained fragments of monk’s robes among the ashes.
“The alms bowl is made of terracotta and decorated with colorful glass mosaics, signifying it was used by a Mahathera [high-ranking] monk,” Thai architect Mr Vichit Chinalai, who led the Thai excavation team, told The Nation newspaper. “The glass mosaics are in the dok dua formation, just like the Yethaphan Pwint – the goolar flower in the king’s crest.”
Win Maung also noted that materials used to make the bowl, including a special green glaze, were consistent with the period of Udumbara’s death. Although there was no DNA evidence to prove whose remains were inside, to him the matter was settled: It was the king. “The urn is now in a box in [Mandalay] City Hall. You need two keys to open it, and the Thais have one and the Burmese have one,” Win Maung said.
The somewhat unceremonious coffin was meant to be temporary. Amid the swell of academic and political enthusiasm, Win Maung and his colleagues laid plans for a total restoration of the site, sponsored by the Thai crown. For Win Maung, it was to be an opus akin to his work at Mandalay Palace: A total make-over with a budget of US$3.23 million to restore the monastery and its grounds as close as possible to its 18th-century appearance, including a restoration of the royal cemetery, memorial ground and museum. The king’s remains were to be re-consecrated at his splendid new resting place.
The project quickly fell apart.
In 2013, excavators found an urn inside this crumbling brick stupa and concluded it was the remains of Udumbara. (Teza Hlaing | Frontier)
Thai newspaper The Nation reported in 2014 that the Thai culture ministry withdrew its support because the Myanmar counterpart was slow to verify the historical details of the tomb and the Udumbara story. Myanmar’s Ministry of Culture insisted that more research was needed. “The [Thai] Culture Ministry asked us temporarily to stop all projects related to the excavation and we need the cooperation of the governments of the two countries,” Heart was quoted as saying.
Despite all the archaeological clues, there was always a nagging lack of DNA evidence. Win Maung was initially optimistic about DNA testing, but in 2016 he told the Irrawaddy that the test would “take time” because old ashes had been damaged by the elements. Now, he claims that a test is impossible because Udumbara has no direct living descendant.
Yet his account of the project’s troubles is more personal. As Win Maung and Lin Lin Amara tell it, their partner on the team, physician Thin Maung Gyi, became increasingly frustrated about the use of funds and criticized the Thai side of team for spending too much on hotels and meals. They also underpaid the Myanmar workers that Thin Maung Gyi had personally chosen. The physician began to question the intentions of the project leaders on both sides, and, eventually, even the claim that the tomb’s remains belonged to Udumbara. Soon, the project’s most fervent champion became its worst enemy, using his sway with the city of Mandalay to thwart the restorers’ every move.
The project went into abeyance until 2016, when the city granted permission for the project to move forward despite the lack of DNA or additional historical evidence. But eventually the Mandalay authorities withdrew support yet again.
Today, Lin Lin Amara continues to pester the city, which had told him nothing can happen until the Myanmar and Thai governments agree to move forward together. However, he said his colleagues in Bangkok tell him everything is ready on the Thai side, including funding from the Thai crown. Asked for comment, an official from the Mandalay City Development Committee directed Frontier to its informal consultant on all things Udumbara: the physician Khin Maung Gyi. He declined to speak on the record. An attempt to contact the Thai Crown Properties Bureau was also unsuccessful.
Thus, the truth about the lost king, his might-be tomb and what will become of them depends on whom you ask.
For the people living nearby, who burn their trash in the shadow of the old pagoda and whose cattle graze on the compound’s grass, the crumbling column of bricks has always been the tomb of a king of Thailand – even if they don’t know his name.