Governor T has ruled Luang Prabang province (LPB) for 20 years, during which Lao Christians have been jailed, tortured, deprived of jobs, schools and health. His cruel administration has closed all LPB churches, imprisoned their pastors and deported Singaporean Christians who tried to support them. As governor his rule is absolute. No Christian ever sees the inside of a courtroom, only the inside of a cell. His heinous rule, ushered in by the communist overthrow in 1975, is written in blood. His province is the centre for cultivation of opium poppy seeds, black market logging of timber and money laundering for both. Before the Pathet Lao defeated the Americans and moved the capital to Vientiane, LPB was the seat of the Lao throne. The King and his civilian cabinet made LPB the centre of activity, so that to this day it is steeped in history to which tourists flock. Most are welcome for the hard currency, Christians excepted. According to official records, in March 2003 imprisoned Christians had reached a record high of 36 and was rising fast.

That was also the month that Governor T was somehow added to an exclusive list of guests invited to attend a two-day executive management seminar which the American Embassy held for senior Lao government ministers. The twelve ministers and governor were taken through the most impressive, high level presentation ever staged in Vientiane. Actually held in the US Ambassador's residence and produced with Lao subtitles, the powerpoints covered all aspects of senior management. Governor T was gobsmacked. He knew he was out of his depth in ministerial company, but was thunderstruck at the extensive, valuable knowledge available. When it ended, he told his alien hosts that two days had been far too short and he realised how much he needed to learn. An American official smiled broadly as he saw the confused dictator off the compound.

In May, 2004, a letter arrived for the governor from Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was an offer for a two-week study tour of US management and leadership practice, arranged by the Organisation For International Cooperation. Governor T was thrilled, but not sure how his party colleagues would regard it. His unease did not improve upon learning that no other government minister had received this offer. Despite the unusual protocol involved, governor T was allowed to go and the US Embassy issued him with a diplomatic study visa.

From Columbia, to Stanford, from Wall Street to West Point, Governor T's feet 'never touched the ground.' While the day-time learnings were mind-boggling, the evenings and weekends were spent with dozens of former Lao who were now US citizens. They took him into their homes, explained life across the Pacific in fluent Lao and on Sunday morning took the governor to their church. Now the culture shock was palpable. All his training and experience had taught him that Christians were the enemy, but how could he offend his expatriate Lao hosts and gracious American benefactors? So the governor played along. He stood when everybody else did, sat when signalled and listened while this US/Lao pastor expounded a bilingual teaching about having love for your enemies and treating them as you would be treated.

Just as two days in Vientiane's US Embassy had gone too quickly, the two weeks in America was over before the governor's head had stopped reeling. From universities to boardrooms, from church to hosts' lounge rooms, the immense privilege he had received only dawned on him as was leaving the Chairman's lounge at LAX. "How can I ever thank you?" he stammered out to his American patrons there to see him off. The reply he received was one he pondered for 28 sleepless hours until the aircraft touched down on his native soil: "If this has been of help, use what you have learned in your own leadership."

Hardwired as a fighter with the Pathet Lao, Governor T now realised the time had come to reinvent himself. One of the first letters he found on his desk, upon returning to his duties, was a plea to release Christians imprisoned in LPB jails. He agreed. Furthermore, he told them that they could reopen their churches in his province. They could meet freely, worship in safety and resume rights as citizens. Though his secret police were dismayed, his constituency saw it as a magnanimous gesture that earned a respect which had long been missing. It was also seen back in Grand Rapids by [the CEO of a major Christian Aid Agency]: with the same broad smile, he realised that his objective had been achieved. He could now focus on other places where Christians were being persecuted.

(Submitted by a friend who has worked with various Christian aid organizations in many countries.)