Berkley Center

“When I start to feel bad, I take this twice a day, and then I never get sick,” a Thai friend told me as she placed a bag of herbal capsules in my hand. Since my cough began the day before, I had received three other sets of medications in a similar manner.

“Don’t worry, plants only,” she added, seeing through my polite smile and nod. The herbs I had tried a few hours before only added migraine to my list of pains. Taking a closer look at the open bottle between us, I noted the logo of the Government Pharmaceutical Organization (GPO) of Thailand. The Thai government established this organization in 1937 to research traditional medicine, a resource of knowledge at that time quickly losing its place with increased Western influence in medical and public health education. This knowledge, however, varied as widely as the people possessing it.

That day, those sharing their herbs and medicines with me were all born in northern Thailand—the region once included in the Lana kingdom—yet were using medications distributed nationally and encouraged as a common cultural gift. It would be surprising if the apparent differences in culture between these groups do not emerge in the treatment of its illnesses and pains, as well. Nonetheless, I have seen these affordable and accessible medications in use in the north, northeast, and the central regions in which I have spent time. Do the products draw on common treatments between these groups? Or has the government created a common “traditional” treatment by providing these inexpensive, widely distributed medications?

In Thailand, the 1930s marked a period of cultural assertion and identity construction emphasized by a new military regime seeking to “Thai-fy” itself. Considering this placement in history, I wondered if the GPO was not only manufacturing pharmaceuticals, but a “Thai” identity as well.

In comparison, in Indonesia, the location of one of my study trips, herbal treatments and alternative medicine practices were notably lacking government or health care sector support. The South Sulawesi residents with which I spoke knew and employed traditional methods and even joked about their reactions as children to the bitter taste of the herbs. In the numerous visits to health care centers, I heard one mention of “alternative medicine,” but received only a puzzled look when I requested more information.

Is this archipelago, whose inhabitants carry more diverse histories and cultures than Thailand has known, overlooking an opportunity to unite and strengthen its health care and national identity? Or are the practices between groups too unique? Many health care professionals mentioned the skepticism of Indonesians toward the generic drugs that the government provides for free under public insurance. Its second-grade association can foster dissatisfaction and a feeling of neglect in this resource-strained context. Increasing support for traditional medications—even though their scope remains limited—just may improve the image of these national producers and distance the perception of affordable drugs from second-grade quality. The traditional pharmaceuticals may not be seen as a “cheap” replica of an international product, but a trusted source of relief now integrated in their primary care experience. Whether or not this is possible in a context of such diversity is a question I look forward to exploring.