The Kingpin of the Golden Triangle — Page 2
Story and photos by James Michael Dorsey



Khun Sa Statue bronze

One by one the people file in. They remove their sandals and stand before the plaster image before them like pilgrims. It is their version of a church but some might call it a cult. As they begin to leave I follow them outside. Several yards away there is a life-sized statue of Khun–Sa on his horse, another plaster monument rapidly deteriorating in the sun and rain, reduced now to an almost comic representation. Two women approach the statue and lay fresh flowers at the horses’ feet. One small child hands me a bouquet to join in but I cannot bring myself to do such honor to this man. I hand the flowers to a tiny girl who places them with solemnity beyond her years.

In 1976, under pressure from the US Drug Enforcement Agency, Khun-Sa moved his operation to a new base inside Thailand in the village of Ban Hin Taek. He renamed his guerillas the Shan United Army and raided local military stations under cover of fighting for Shan autonomy but really to secure more weapons and munitions. Repeated assassination attempts by both the Thai and Burmese government failed, but forced him to move yet again, this time just over the border into Myanmar. None of this stopped or even ebbed the tidal flow of illicit drugs into the United States.

In 1985 Khun-Sa merged his military force with the local regular Shan army which gave him effective control of the entire region of northern Laos, Thailand, and Burma. From 1976-1994 the U.S Drug Enforcement Administration estimated that 80% of all street heroin reaching the United States came from the fields controlled by Khun-Sa and it was 90% pure; finer than any other on the market. Combined task forces from four countries constantly combed the jungle in the hunt but he always eluded or bought off his pursuers.

In the shade of a flowering vine I sit to listen as the people tell me their stories of Khun-Sa. The elders who knew him personally speak with a reverence hard to comprehend. The almost childlike naiveté of these people allows me to see how they would remember him with such love. Meaning no disrespect, they remind me of a dog that gets kicked by its master and yet returns time and again with nothing but love and admiration proving also that high among their attributes is loyalty. They are simple people, without guile, agenda, or even dreams. For them life is daily repetitive labor and when you are born into that, dreams rarely have time to grow. By their actions, these people have turned the story of a man into myth and legend that will only grow larger with each telling.

A Fee to Turn Off the Tap

In 1988, under international pressure, Khun-Sa offered to sell his entire annual crop to the United States and Australia together for a combined price of 50 million dollars that would effectively eliminate the street market for heroin in both countries, and indirectly amounted to a subsidy for not peddling his product on the open market. Australia turned down the offer saying it did not deal with criminals.

The children sing a song of Khun-Sa’s life. The entire day has seemed almost ceremonial and I wonder how often such obeisance is paid to this deceased legend. Was it staged just for me? I did not get that feeling. No one knew I was coming or when. I think I was simply an excuse for a spontaneous outpouring of affection or maybe just a day off from the drudgery of working in the field. Maybe they revere this man because he came from among them or maybe they just need something larger than themselves to get them through each day.

Khun Sa army Khun-Sa's Army recruits in 1990. Creative Commons photo by Patricia W. Elliott.

In 1989 Khun-sa offered yet again to sell his entire crop to the United States for $80 million and was indicted by a New York federal court. Following this he offered to sell his crop in exchange for $210 million in United Nations assistance, $265 million in foreign investments, and another $90 million for a crop eradication program that would also provide education and health care to the local hill people. This offer was also turned down. In an interview given that year he claimed his personal army to be 31,000 strong, but fearing extradition under his New York indictment, Khun-Sa fled to Yangon where he surrendered to Burmese authorities but was never arrested.

What is this common historic thread that connects such powerful criminals? Most were born into poverty and yet blessed with superior intelligence and survival instincts. There is a drive to succeed at all costs, to leave the past behind and raise oneself up regardless of how it is done. But power seems to feed itself, growing unchecked until the actions overwhelm and consume the doer. In the end, no one gets out alive and the saddest part is the people who unknowingly enable all of it.

The United States offered a $2 million-dollar reward for Khun-Sa’s arrest but the Burmese government refused to prosecute him and he lived out his days in a comfortable estate fueled by his ill-gotten investments. He died in 2007 and the cause was attributed to diabetes and high blood pressure. His burial site is unknown. He left behind eight children, several of whom are successful business people in Yangon, Burma.

Today it is locally believed that the Kuomintang still control the heroin trade but it has never reached the levels it enjoyed under Khun-Sa. Afghanistan now produces the bulk of the world’s heroin and the DEA estimates that only 30% of American consumption comes from the triangle.

One by one the people fade back into the jungle and the old caretaker locks the rooms behind us. I sit with my driver for several minutes taking in all that I have learned. The lush mountains towering above me seem so serene and peaceful. Even the monkeys have stopped their chatter. Suddenly I smell the sweet burn of a heroin laced cigarette. “To Khun-Sa” my driver says before taking a long drag.

“Move over,” I say before taking the wheel.


James Michael Dorsey is an explorer, author, and photographer who has traveled extensively in forty-some countries, mostly far off the beaten path. His primary interest is in documenting indigenous people in Asia and Africa. He is a fellow of the Explorers Club, and a member and former director of the Adventurers Club. See more at www.jamesdorsey.com.

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Related Features:
Enduring Burmese Tea - James Michael Dorsey
Rites of Passage in Myanmar's Tribal Highlands - Michael Shapiro
Soldier and Savior in the Cambodian Minefields - James Michael Dorsey
On a Slow Boat down the Irrawaddy River - Jim Johnston


See other Asia travel stories from the archives


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Vanishing Tales from Ancient Trails

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