In the spring of 2018, while on the sidelines of the 7th International Conference on Hmong Studies in the American city of St. Paul, Shi Tian walked into the local Hmong Culture Center to attend a talk by the late Kou Yang, a Hmong scholar at California State University.

To Shi’s surprise, the speech opened with an anecdote about China’s ambitious Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). What could the Hmong people in his native country of Laos gain from the initiative, Yang asked, and what implications might it hold for Hmong communities worldwide?

The Hmong are a minority group with deep roots in China and Southeast Asia. In China, they are included as a subgroup of the Miao ethnicity. Although there is no official tally of the number of Hmong living in the country, there are some 10 million Miao spread across southwestern China, as well as an estimated 1 million Hmong in Vietnam, 450,000 in Laos, and over 100,000 in Thailand.

During the 1960s and ’70s, large numbers of Hmong refugees emigrated from the Indochina Peninsula, with many eventually reforming communities in places like St. Paul. (Among their descendants is Sunisa Lee, an Olympic all-around gold medalist who competes for the United States.)

Shi wasn’t new to the subject of transnational Hmong communities. She identifies as a member of the Xongb, a group closely related to the Hmong and also included under the “Miao” umbrella in China, and she had studied both Hmong immigrants in Europe and the cross-border relationships of Hmong communities in Southwest China.

Yet, Yang’s question stuck with her. Shi began to wonder how the Hmong communities she’d studied felt about the dramatic changes brought about by China’s infrastructure spending in Southeast Asia — and how they were leveraging new opportunities brought by open borders, increased internet access, and greater connectivity to the outside world to change their lives.

A year ago, Shi set out to look for answers, spending months studying how the Hmong people moved and traded across the borders of China, Laos, and Vietnam. She conducted interviews with more than 100 Hmong individuals and visited workplaces in all three countries. Her findings shed light on the impact of transnational mobility on the socio-economic landscape of China and Southeast Asia. Moreover, they highlight the agency of Hmong in shaping a better future for themselves — whether by embracing entrepreneurialism, seizing cross-border opportunities, or striving for upward mobility.

Open borders

The shift to “open-border” policies in the tri-state area of China, Vietnam, and Laos formally began in the 1990s — when China and Vietnam normalized their bilateral relationship — and mass cross-border movement became feasible.

Residents of border towns were suddenly able to travel relatively freely between the three countries. “Locals would say, ‘Climb over the mountain, and Vietnam is just on the other side,’” Shi recalls.

This policy shift proved transformative for the region’s Hmong. Beginning in the Qing dynasty (1644–1911), many Hmong people in southern China’s mountainous areas migrated southwestward to escape war and famine, establishing settlements in peripheral Chinese towns and in the mountains of Southeast Asia.

According to Yang Yudong, an anthropologist at Nanjing University, Hmong communities in China’s southwestern border towns carry a memory of “everlasting migration.” This legacy of migration fostered cross-border kinship networks, networks that eventually became a critical resource for Hmong people living along the reopened tri-state borders. In her fieldwork, Shi found that many Hmong people believed they could always join their “brothers” in another country, even after generations of separation. When families reunite with distant relatives, they are often willing to share connections and material resources to support each other’s livelihoods and business ventures.

Although the policy and cultural drivers of enhanced cross-border collaboration were in place decades ago, there was still one piece missing from the puzzle, according to Shi: infrastructure. When Shi conducted fieldwork in Hmong communities in Southwest China 15 years ago, traveling between the various villages was arduous. The saying about the border being just “over the mountain” was no joke: almost every community was cut off from the outside world. Getting to the nearest urban center required a motorcycle, then a bus.

As a result, cross-border movement was centered around agriculture, as Hmong immigrants took short-term jobs in sugarcane, banana, and jackfruit fields. Today, China, Laos, and Vietnam are all investing heavily in border regions, from improving internet access to building new rail and road links. The new China-Laos high-speed railway now stops on both sides of the border, linking Hmong communities there directly to the Chinese regional hub of Kunming and Vientiane in Laos, paving the way for more and more diverse flows of people and capital.

Rising entrepreneurship

One key takeaway from Shi’s study is the rise of entrepreneurship in Hmong communities between China, Laos, and Vietnam. Previous research into transnational Hmong migration tended to emphasize the transfer of labor from lower- to higher-income areas. Now, that is starting to change.

In 2023, Shi heard about a group of young Hmong from the southwestern Chinese province of Yunnan who had established a hotel in Laos. The news was surprising, Shi said, as Yunnan’s border areas were historically a recipient of investment, not a source of it.

“In the 1990s and early 2000s, when border residents in Yunnan talked about ‘going out,’ they were going to Guangdong and Fujian for factory jobs,” Shi says. “Now, they are eyeing Laos for transnational business opportunities.”

Curious about this shift, Shi got in contact with the hoteliers and met La, a Chinese Hmong from a non-wealthy family who had made Lao Hmong friends while at a university in Kunming and eventually decided to start a business in the country. (To protect their identities, Shi gave all her research participants pseudonyms.)

One of La’s partners was a Laotian Hmong, who not only offered his own land for the hotel but also managed relations with local officials. The latter experience was a critical asset, as a major reason for the failure of foreign investment in emerging economies is poor knowledge of how local governments work. The hotel also hired Lao Hmong women for room services, a decision that they hoped would attract Chinese tourists and businesspeople, who may be more familiar with Hmong than other Laotian ethnic groups.

Besides the hospitality sector, catering and entertainment sectors have also benefited from growing transnational trade and tourism. In the course of her fieldwork, Shi visited Hmong-themed bars in Yunnan that host Southeast Asian Hmong musical artists. These musicians are able to tour China despite not knowing Mandarin, largely because their tours were facilitated by local Hmong agents and venue owners.

What explains this growth in entrepreneurship? Shi believes that improved information and financial infrastructure has freed Hmong living along the border from their traditional career choices and allowed them to start founding small enterprises.

One example is a small China-Vietnam trade and tourism company, staffed by Vietnamese Hmong, which acquired local subsidy for tourism. “Ten years ago, even if these support programs existed, Hmong locals lacked the know-how to apply for them,” Shi explained. “Nowadays, thanks to access to new media, government-led training programs, and support from NGO workers, border residents are getting more adept at advocating for their interests.”

Another game-changer is social media. During her fieldwork, Shi encountered a Vietnamese Hmong band which had gained fame across the border in China, thanks in large part to their popularity on the Chinese short video app Kuaishou, which has emerged as a key platform for Southeast Asian Hmong looking to reach the lucrative Chinese market.

Shared language

According to Shi, the Hmong community’s linguistic abilities offer them a distinct competitive advantage. In her fieldwork, she has noted how conversations between Chinese Hmong and Lao Hmong may flow “seamlessly between Laotian, Hmong, Chinese, and English.”

But Hmong is often their preference when exchanging vital information. “They use Hmong to clarify misinformation and exchange practical information,” Shi says. “Which SIM card offers the best value in Laos? How do I find job opportunities at Chinese state-owned enterprises? What’s the process for applying for a scholarship overseas?”

Language is not a cure-all, however, and transnational connections can be fragile. The COVID-19 pandemic, for example, was a setback to transnational mobility. Along the tri-state borders, residents have had to navigate the new reality of formalized border control measures, as entrance and exit have been restricted to specific ports. In theory, they can cross the border with a border pass or other official permit. But according to Shi, the costs and wait times for getting this permit are subject to the efficiency and transparency of local officials, which can vary across the region.

Nevertheless, China, Vietnam, and Laos all seem to agree that furthering cross-border cooperation is a priority. In November, China announced a new long-term visa program for businesspeople from five countries along the Lancang-Mekong River, including Laos and Vietnam — part of a broader effort to strengthen regional ties. And in July, Laos began offering visa-free entry to Chinese tourists.

Meanwhile, Shi believes that interest in transnational communities like the Hmong will continue to grow. Many Western academics frame the Hmong either as premodern laggards or else as victims of modernity, she says. A new generation of researchers, who share their kinship and language, promise to reshape that narrative in an interconnected world.

“Historically, minority groups in the region have been under-documented,” Shi says. “Now, they feel that their voices are finally being heard, and they are ready to tell their stories.” 

(Header image: Hmong women try on clothes at the Can Cau Market in Lao Cai province, Vietnam, Sept. 23, 2023. VCG)