Modern medical science has made immense strides throughout Asia during the past two generations. These advances were facilitated by the widespread availability of “miracle drugs” that began with sulfa derivatives and antibiotics. Yet in practice only a minority of South and Southeast Asians benefit adequately.

Physicians, clinics and well-equipped hospitals almost invariably cluster in or near urban centers, serving chiefly the articulate, educated and more prosperous citizens. Patients’ ability to pay continues to promote a concentration of medical skills and facilities. Where village-based health services have been organized, they tend to flounder and disappear when the innovators move on. Critical is the poverty that still is the lot in life of the majority of rural families for whom population pressure has made malnutrition the most prevalent and rapidly growing illness.

When Drs. RAJANIKANT and MABELLE AROLE chose to practice in Jamkhed taluka (sub-district) in Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra in 1970, they had prepared themselves meticulously and thoroughly researched the community. Both products of an Indian Christian education’ they had chosen each other in marriage with a pledge to share in serving rural India First joining a small voluntary hospital in Maharashtra, they refined their ideas for service; graduate medical studies in America followed.

Deliberately the AROLES selected a region where the villager’s existence was grim and seemingly hopeless. Two consecutive monsoon failures compounded chronic drought. Much topsoil had washed away after forests were cut for firewood. Villages were split into factions by caste and clan. Leprosy and tuberculosis were prevalent, although often unreported. Infant mortality ranged from 80 to 150 per 1,000 live births. Malnutrition, especially among children under five years of age, was made worse by gastrointestinal diseases carried in the often contaminated water taken from streams and ponds. Everywhere want produced despair among a people denied the means and lacking the will to achieve better.

The simple curative medical practice begun by the AROLES in a small lent cowshed in Jamkhed won them acceptance by community leaders and the voluntary construction of a small hospital. But they found permanent answers demanded a changed environment. To make preventive medicine a reality they utilized the semiskilled personnel and unsophisticated equipment at hand. To ensure that villagers acted for themselves, the doctors subordinated their work to local leadership, and as outsiders were only catalysts. Village Health Workers, often illiterate older women nominated by their neighbors, were trained to give simple treatment and bring serious cases to a mobile weekly medical team. Wells were drilled for potable water, located in the village section inhabited by Harijans, or untouchables. Young Farmers Clubs reclaimed idle land, built dams and roads, planted trees and otherwise utilized the food-for-work program to grow added crops, partly for children’s feeding programs.

Changes wrought by this Comprehensive Rural Health Project above all cemented a new sense of community, erasing many caste barriers among the 40,000 inhabitants of 30 villages. At an annual per capita cost of 70 U.S. cents—excluding the cost of special treatment for tuberculosis and leprosy patients—this scheme is being extended to another 30 villages in neighboring Karjat taluka. Now in their mid-40s, the AROLES are refining their movement for mobilizing rural initiative and leadership, and sustaining their commitment to continue learning from the villagers whose cause they share.

In electing Dr. RAJANIKANT SHANKARRAO AROLE and his wife, Dr. MABELLE RAJANIKANT AROLE, to receive the 1979 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Community Leadership, the Board of Trustees recognizes their creating a self-sustaining rural health and economic betterment movement in one of the poorer regions of West-Central India.

My husband and I thank you for honoring us with the Ramon Magsaysay Award. In the life of the late President Magsaysay we find inspiration to serve our fellowmen and bring credit to the great humanitarian in whose memory this Award is given.

One of the most sensitive and accurate indicators of the development of a society or nation is the status and condition of its women and children. In most countries of the world, women and children are exploited socially and economically and, to this extent, these countries are not truly developed. The plight of women and children in the rural areas that I have seen is beyond description. Living in abject poverty, women alone have to bear the burden of childbearing and child raising. It is also the women who have to do the backbreaking work in the fields, very often even acting as beasts of burden. Worse still, these tasks have to be performed under the hardship of unbelievable social restrictions and oppression. They are subject to the whims of society and strictures of caste and community. Women and female children are the most nutritionally deprived and they lack access to education because of social taboos. They have little or no decision-making power or self-esteem, even when they are the main wage earners. Ultimately, the only choice left to them is whether to live in silence or not live at all. Only death relieves their suffering. They are caught between the Scylla of poverty and the Charybdis of tradition.

The need then, for comprehensive social and economic change for the betterment of women cannot be overemphasized. Health services, no matter how efficient, cannot change the condition of women unless we help them to be self-reliant. The traditional role of woman as a wife and mother needs to be expanded by involving them in leadership positions and transforming them into change agents. The liberating effect of education and consciousness-raising on oppressed women has been well documented. Women’s participation in deciding on policies, and in planning, implementing and controlling human development programs, will result in self-reliance.

Simple, humble illiterate women around Jamkhed have a potential for full development. We put our trust in this potential. Initially, the women in this area would not believe that they could be trained. With perseverance, they soon found out their own capabilities. Scores of women have come forward and acquired knowledge and skill in health matters. They have acquired organizational skills. They can produce educational materials and communicate with the masses through audiovisual aids, drama and other media. They have learned to be sensitive to injustices heaped on the weaker sections of society and they have found ways and means to combat these practices. These illiterate women have dramatically reduced infant mortality, maternal mortality and the birth rate, and have helped other villagers enjoy better health. They have helped the community overcome irrational traditions, have spread education, and have improved the quality of village life in general.

We, the educated elite, need to realize that formal school and university education is not the only education for bettering the quality of life. People, our best assets, can learn from doing. Common people need to be trusted and equipped with knowledge and skills so they can stand on the own feet. This process of non-formal education must permeate rapidly if we want to alleviate the suffering of the masses who are existing in inhuman conditions today. We professionals form part of the community in which we live and work. A continuing dialogue is necessary between the broad community and those of us who have knowledge. Such a dialogue enables us to acquire a better understanding of the community’s feelings, its hopes and aspirations. For their part, the people will learn to identify their own needs and learn to become involved in and promote community action for health and human development.

Thus, society will come to realize that health and human developments are not only the rights of all but also the responsibility of all and in doing so, we professionals will find our own proper role.

Modern medical science has made immense strides throughout Asia during the past two generations. These advances were facilitated by the widespread availability of “miracle drugs” that began with sulfa derivatives and antibiotics. Yet in practice only a minority of South and Southeast Asians benefit adequately.

Physicians, clinics and well-equipped hospitals almost invariably cluster in or near urban centers, serving chiefly the articulate, educated and more prosperous citizens. Patients’ ability to pay continues to promote a concentration

of medical skills and facilities. Where village-based health services have been organized, they tend to flounder and disappear when the innovators move on. Critical is the poverty that still is the lot in life of the majority of rural families for whom population pressure has made malnutrition the most prevalent and rapidly growing illness.

When Drs. RAJANIKANT and MABELLE AROLE chose to practice in Jamkhed taluka (sub-district) in Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra in 1970, they had prepared themselves meticulously and thoroughly researched the community. Both products of an Indian Christian education’ they had chosen each other in marriage with a pledge to share in serving rural India First joining a small voluntary hospital in Maharashtra, they refined their ideas for service; graduate medical studies in America followed.

Deliberately the AROLES selected a region where the villager’s existence was grim and seemingly hopeless. Two consecutive monsoon failures compounded chronic drought. Much topsoil had washed away after forests were cut for firewood. Villages were split into factions by caste and clan. Leprosy and tuberculosis were prevalent, although often unreported. Infant mortality ranged from 80 to 150 per 1,000 live births. Malnutrition, especially among children under five years of age, was made worse by gastrointestinal diseases carried in the often contaminated water taken from streams and ponds. Everywhere want produced despair among a people denied the means and lacking the will to achieve better.

The simple curative medical practice begun by the AROLES in a small lent cowshed in Jamkhed won them acceptance by community leaders and the voluntary construction of a small hospital. But they found permanent answers demanded a changed environment. To make preventive medicine a reality they utilized the semiskilled personnel and unsophisticated equipment at hand. To ensure that villagers acted for themselves, the doctors subordinated their work to local leadership, and as outsiders were only catalysts. Village Health Workers, often illiterate older women nominated by their neighbors, were trained to give simple treatment and bring serious cases to a mobile weekly medical team. Wells were drilled for potable water, located in the village section inhabited by Harijans, or untouchables. Young Farmers Clubs reclaimed idle land, built dams and roads, planted trees and otherwise utilized the food-for-work program to grow added crops, partly for children’s feeding programs.

Changes wrought by this Comprehensive Rural Health Project above all cemented a new sense of community, erasing many caste barriers among the 40,000 inhabitants of 30 villages. At an annual per capita cost of 70 U.S. cents—excluding the cost of special treatment for tuberculosis and leprosy patients—this scheme is being extended to another 30 villages in neighboring Karjat taluka. Now in their mid-40s, the AROLES are refining their movement for mobilizing rural initiative and leadership, and sustaining their commitment to continue learning from the villagers whose cause they share.

In electing Dr. RAJANIKANT SHANKARRAO AROLE and his wife, Dr. MABELLE RAJANIKANT AROLE, to receive the 1979 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Community Leadership, the Board of Trustees recognizes their creating a self-sustaining rural health and economic betterment movement in one of the poorer regions of West-Central India.

My wife and I wish to express our warmest and humblest thanks for honoring us with this eminent Ramon Magsaysay Award. We hope we will be able to bring further distinction to such recognition.

In Asia and the rest of the world, positive strides have been made in the fields of medicine and science. We witness the magnificent feat of men living in environments alien to us in yesteryears. It is commonplace for us to hear of man conducting experiments in the far-reaching dimensions of space and in the depths of our oceans. We have developed technology of such sophistication that now it is possible to replace diseased body organs. There appears to be no limit to making all our imaginings realities (given enough of that precious commodity—time). But as we slowly lower our eyes from the dazzling heights of man’s achievements, our sight will fall on the ugliest of scars of mankind’s workmanship—poverty and disease. Statisticians enjoy playing the numbers game with lives in our Asian villages. It throws up the frequency of births, deaths and diseases, but hides the stark reality of suffering and deprivation.

Optimum health is the right of every individual and we possess more than enough knowledge to make this right a reality. Knowledge is the total accumulation of all the efforts of mankind over the past decades. No single profession or group can claim a monopoly on this market. It should be available to all, but in the very name of protecting the people, this trust of knowledge is withheld from them. Presently in Asia large sections of the population are deprived of the benefits acquired from this common pool of knowledge, which leads us to pose painful questions. What hinders the available medical care from reaching these people? Is it the monetary cost involved? If this is so, what causes the high cost? If this care is so far removed from the common people, are we failing in our responsibility? We must search into these questions objectively and try to answer them in a dispassionate manner. We know that morbidity and mortality in rural areas are closely related to basic health problems caused by inadequate food, a polluted water supply, poor sanitation and man’s inability to equalize distribution. Today we commit the great crime of allowing malnourished children and adults to succumb to diarrhea and tuberculosis, major killers. Why should a mother lose her life due to tetanus or sepsis? We possess enough knowledge and machinery to prevent such wastage of lives, and we can be certain that there is no dearth of village people to help in this task. So why do these tragedies continue? There appear to be certain cliques that monopolize knowledge, technology and remedies that are vital to the very survival of human life. If the common man is allowed access to these resources, the predictions of a doomed future would rapidly change.

Poor, illiterate people are like rough diamonds hidden under dirt and stone. Given the opportunity, they can reach their full potential—a potential as great as is possible for you and me. Just because facilities of schools and universities are inaccessible to them we are mistaken in labeling them unintelligent. “Ignorant” is the word to use here as this denotes deprivation of knowledge. The villagers are capable of learning and utilizing skills for the betterment of life. All that is necessary on our part is sharing our “trust of knowledge” with them. They have the potential to be responsible, sensitive human beings, possessing the qualities for self-reliance, and able to shed old customs and traditions that impede forward development. We just need to exercise patience and care in working with them.

Why are people still imprisoned in the shackles of bondage? They should be able to decide who controls knowledge and how it should be utilized for the positive progression of mankind. We must make available to them the means to gain access to, and control over, their own health care. I must ask myself if I am consciously or unconsciously involved in this obstruction and how I can facilitate the services reaching those in most need. I believe, both as a humanitarian and as a physician, that qualities of independence and self-reliance should be encouraged and nurtured in regard to people’s health care, and to this end my wife and I are channeling our efforts.

At this point Arnold Toynbee’s words echo through my mind: “The twentieth century will be remembered chiefly, not as an age of political conflicts and technical inventions, but as an age in which human society dared to think of the health of the whole human race as a practical objective.”

Neglect, decay and sometimes desecration of cultural monuments to Asia’s past are among the major tragedies of this age. For all of their feudal ways, rulers of antiquity did truly patronize the arts. Religious architecture, sculpture, painting and monumental constructions often were created in part with carves labor. Taxes that supported the artisans frequently were onerous for the peasants. However, religious faith, combined with leaders’ desire of leaving an enduring heritage, inspired the finest artistic expressions of these ancient civilizations.

Secular societies now seem especially prone to forget their origins, and mass communications cater to the least common denominator of taste. Artists are left seeking a constituency among the small minority who take time to cultivate appreciation. Often today they are helpless to prevent the plastering of old church frescoes and weathered temple paintings in the name of modernization.

Born 77 years ago to poor parents in the fishing village of Alutgama in then Ceylon, now Sri Lanka, MANJUSRI had to borrow a shirt to attend school. After apprenticing as a carpenter, he joined the Buddhist sangha (monkhood) as a novice at the age of 13. He was fortunate in studying under two famous teachers at the Mangala Pirivena in Beruwala, learning Buddhist philosophy and four languages: Sinhala, Pali, Sanskrit and Bengali.

MANJUSRI’s artistic sense was awakened in 1932 when he went to study at Santiniketan Ashram of Rabindranath Tagore in eastern India. He was inspired after two years to return to begin copying the old temple paintings in Sri Lanka, which work, by 1936, had won the admiration of the scholars at Santiniketan. After further study of the Lamaist sect of Buddhism and Buddhist artistic traditions in Sikkim and the Himalayan heights, the gifted monk turned his talents to his life work.

In 1943 he inspired the organization of an association of young artists known, as the “43 group” that has now become one of Asia’s more important art schools. After his own original paintings were exhibited in Colombo, together with his reproductions of temple art, MANJUSRI was invited to London and Vienna where this wealth of the Buddhist artistic tradition began to be appreciated.

Taking off the robes of a Buddhist monk, MANJUSRI in 1950 turned his full attention to art and writing. Over the past 29 years he has published 155 serious articles in Sinhala and 55 in English, bringing to public ken the ancient and medieval art of Sri Lanka. Visiting hundreds of viharas, or temples, sometimes living on wild fruits from the jungle, he systematically documented, and copied or traced, thousands of neglected and fast disappearing mural paintings. In between he translated world classics including poems by Tagore into Sinhala.

Marrying late in life, MANJUSRI now is assisted by a devoted wife, Mangala, an artistic son and two daughters. They and the Archaeological Society of Sri Lanka helped him prepare for publication on his 75th birthday his book, Design Elements from Sri Lankan Temple Paintings, complete with 159 plates of designs from 75 temples. In their modest flat he and his family have created a haven where other artists now gather to cooperate in preserving Sri Lanka’s rich artistic tradition.

In electing LOKUKAMKANAMGE THOMAS PEIRIS MANJUSRI to receive the 1979 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Journalism, Literature and Creative Communication Arts, the Board of Trustees recognizes his preserving for the people of Sri Lanka and the world the 2,000-year-old tradition of classical art found in their great Buddhist temples.

The Ramon Magsaysay Award is well known in my country because three of my compatriots have received it before me. They were distinguished and well-known people. I am a poor artist, a painter. I never thought that I, too, would receive it one day. I thank the Board of the Ramon Magsaysay Foundation and the Executive Trustee for this great honor conferred on me, and thereby on my country.

I am a painter by accident. A long time ago, when I was a Buddhist monk, I spent a few years at the poet Tagore’s ashram, Santiniketan, in Bengal, India. During this time I used to see young people sketching and painting in the art school. My curiosity was aroused, and I began to paint too, by myself. This was in 1932.

By the time I returned to Sri Lanka in 1934 my experience at Santiniketan had awakened me to the beauty of art. I began to look at the paintings on our temple walls with new eyes. I saw that valuable temple murals were neglected, destroyed and replaced by cheap, meaningless, tasteless modern paintings. I decided to copy what was left, before they too were destroyed.

The Buddhist clergy and some groups of painters were opposed to what I was doing. They said that engaging in activities like painting was unethical for monks. Instead of being helped and encouraged, I was obstructed and discouraged. But I continued, with the determination that I had to save these treasures for posterity. I copied them faithfully, traveling the length and breadth of the land to find them on crumbling temple walls. I wrote to the newspapers about them, illustrating what I wrote with the sketches I had made. I wanted to awaken my countrymen to the need to preserve this cultural heritage for future generations.

Gradually, monks as well as laymen began to realize the value of this art of their forefathers. People began to collect my newspaper articles in Sinhala and in English. Some collected them in files; others bound them in book form.

There are still more temples to visit; more murals to copy; and many more to protect and preserve. But I can no longer undertake this task unaided. Perhaps with this Award I may find some help.

Population growth and the resulting pressure upon available food, resources and land has become one of the world’s primary contemporary concerns. In Asia, which holds over one-half of the human race, the resulting problems are particularly acute. As the death rate, especially among infants, has declined with improved health and medical care, the population promises even more rapid growth. Whether the present world population of roughly 4.2 billion will double or nearly triple before it levels off will affect the lives of all.

Approximately 1,000 kilometers in length, the island of Java long has held one of the world’s densest rural populations. In this verdant, volcanic landscape each of the 8,600,000 hectares of cultivated land must support 10 persons. The pressure of people has produced poverty and social tensions and prompted political upheavals as jobs and food have become scarce. Desperate economic circumstances have eroded the unique Javanese culture. Smaller, yet similarly burdened, Bali is likewise threatened.

Dr. WASITO has a natural affinity for Javanese villagers. Born 70 years ago into the family of a District Officer near Yogyakarta, he grew up in this heartland of Javanese civilization. Leaving to study medicine and serve for 13 years in Central Sumatra, he returned home when the opportunity offered, to work with the late Dr. Kodijat on the massive campaign in the 1950s to eradicate yaws. He learned early to shun people “who are clever without real knowledge.” The experience led to work in India and Nepal with the United Nations World Health Organization (WHO) to eradicate smallpox and other epidemic diseases.

The dilemma faced by Indonesia—the world’s fifth most populous nation with nearly 136 million inhabitants—was whether effective limitation of population must wait upon general economic development or could be accomplished directly. Although birth control had become major government objective, the test would come in the villages.

Dr. WASITO, recalled from retirement to manage family planning in East Java, won acceptance of his thesis that this must be a “people’s movement.” Initially Dr. WASITO and his associates concentrated upon winning understanding and cooperation from local leaders: and their staffs, military officers and religious elders. Mobilizing villagers through lurahs or headmen, irrigation officers, tricycle drivers and women’s clubs, the family planning representative was a local person and usually a woman. The wayang or classical Javanese puppet shadow play was enlisted and female gamelan orchestras were organized as part of what has become a new liberation of women. All was matched with scrupulous record keeping; village clinics display maps which households utilize what contraceptives.

Already the results belie those who said it could not be done in poor, largely illiterate rural societies. In Hindu Bali in just over seven years the birth rate has dropped from 44 per 1,000 persons annually to less than 20 per 1,000. In Muslim East Java the results have been almost as dramatic and the energetic National Family Planning Coordinating Board now is similarly active in Central and West Java. For Indonesia it means the goal of enough food and a decent life for its citizens has moved several generations closer, as the anticipated population by the end of this century has been scaled down from 300 to 190 million. Dr. WASITO’s insistence that you must really “love the villagers to win their cooperation,” has been proven beyond dispute.

In electing Dr. RADEN WASITO to receive the 1979 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Government Service, the Board of Trustees recognizes his discovering “a path in the Javanese villagers’ mind” that led to one of the most dramatic and successful family planning programs in the free world.

When the news came through to Indonesia that I was selected as an Awardee for Government Service for the year 1979 by the Board of Trustees of the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation, there came a stream of cables and flowers from well-wishers assuring me of their pride that an Indonesian had been selected. This illustrates how highly this Award is valued by my fellow countrymen. This is why I would like to express my deepest gratitude to the Board of Trustees.

From this forum I would also like to pay homage to your national hero, Dr. Jose P. Rizal of this great republic, and the late President Ramon Magsaysay in whose memory this Foundation was created.

As for the honor bestowed on me, I feel that I have done nothing in particular, other than doing my duty and country as a servant to my government and country.

Faced by the urgent problem of bringing family planning to the millions in East Java in the shortest time possible, I came to the conclusion that I needed thousands and thousands of communicators, informers, and educators. This could only be achieved by mobilizing every potential source who could communicate, inform and educate the people. The best communicators, informers and educators are the members of the village community themselves, whom the people readily believe. These people have the same cultural background, speak the same tongue, have the same traditions and the same way of thinking. After a brief training they are able to convey the message. The group of people fit for this work are the village chief and his assistants, religious leaders and their followers and other influential people in the community.

Everybody wishes to be happy and prosperous in this world and in the world hereafter. The village chief and his assistants are guiding the people to worldly prosperity, while the religious leaders are guiding them to happiness and heaven. That is the reason why the people believe them. If we get the support of these persons for the family planning cause, we have very powerful propagators for the idea. For my part I only reminded the people of our existing tradition: jer basuki mawa bea (no happiness without sacrifice) and gotong royong gugur gunung (work for mutual interest without expecting any remuneration).

A Javanese character trait is that when politely requested to help, it is difficult to refuse if there is any possibility of assisting. So, when we requested the village leaders to cooperate, the request was granted, and we got a powerful army of communicators, informers and educators. This led to acceptance of the family planning idea in East Java. Spread of information must go hand in hand with ample contraceptive services. It is due to the hard work and dedication of the government officers, doctors and midwives, voluntary workers of organizations, the armed forces and other layers of the Indonesian community that we succeeded. It is their confidence in the benefits of family planning that made our achievement possible.

On this, for me, happy occasion, I would like to salute the memory of my teacher, the late Dr. Soetomo, who taught me patriotism and the memory of the late Dr. Kodijat, Dr. Sjaiful Anwar and Dr. Soetopo, all of whom introduced me into the arts of public health. I would also like to remember my teachers in the School of Public Health at Johns Hopkins University, and Dr. Soewardjono Soerjaningrat who gave me the opportunity to practice my ideas m East Java. And I would like to thank my wife and children, who have always stood beside and behind me, never demanding any luxuries during the difficult times of the struggle for independence, nor now during the period of Indonesian development.

Fragmented by geography, history, religion and language, the Southeast Asian region has sometimes been known as the “Balkans of Asia.” Colonial rule over the past four centuries encouraged divisions by linking these lands to Western powers with differing political and cultural systems. Only the Kingdom of Thailand retained its full independence and its predominantly Buddhist traditions.

As the nations of Southeast Asia became independent over the past 33 years, ancient and modern rivalries compounded the ethnic and political boundary disputes that were partly a product of World War II Japanese occupation. Lacking a consensus on the most effective path to modernization, some leaders lent themselves to outside political scheming. Lying athwart the strategic sea lanes from the Pacific to the Indian Ocean, Persian Gulf and Mediterranean, Southeast Asia was tempting as an arena for Great Power maneuvering.

The ASSOCIATION OF SOUTHEAST ASIAN NATIONS, known as ASEAN had its formal inauguration 12 years ago this month in Bangkok when the foreign ministers of Indonesia, Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia and the Philippines signed the declaration. The ASSOCIATION fosters economic cooperation for a region of some 245 million people who inhabit the mainland, the Malay peninsula and some 20,000 islands spread over more than three million square kilometers.

The performance of ASEAN since then has substantially exceeded the expectations of many, including skeptics both within and without the region. Shunning originally the controversial issues spawned by the conflict in the Indochinese states, ASEAN sought to emphasize constructive prospects. Special and ad-hoc committees representing member states have met and explored opportunities for collective action in transportation, communications, education, research and scientific development that promise common benefits.

Although Singapore is unique among the five neighboring countries in not having an immense underdeveloped rural hinterland, it has been possible for the ASEAN nations to agree upon specialization of production, emphasizing the advantages to each in locating industrial establishments to supply most effectively the larger regional market. An example is the soda ash industry to exploit the huge high quality rock salt deposits of northeastern Thailand.

ASEAN still has far to go in reducing regional barriers to trade, travel, and profitable industrialization, and in effectively controlling problems such as drug traffic and smuggling. However, a new vehicle for working together has been created wherein women’s groups, archaeologists, shipping executives, labor leaders, bankers and writers their growing mutuality of interests. Each ASEAN meeting of nongovernmental participants appears to generate increased enthusiasm.

So far neither a common market nor a regional economic community has been formed, but ASEAN is setting the pattern of productive and peaceful cooperation, creating a “Southeast Asian Sea of Tranquility.” ASEAN nations are rich in their resources of coconuts, copper, rubber, tin and timber, as well as in rice, maize, sugar and spices—for all of which they seek improved world earnings. Most importantly as an ASEAN founder expressed it: “For the first time now one of our foreign ministers can telephone another, take up a mutual problem and make an agreement in principle.”

In electing the ASSOCIATION OF SOUTHEAST ASIAN NATIONS to receive the 1979 Ramon Magsaysay Award for International Understanding, the Board of Trustees recognizes its supplanting national jealousies that led to confrontation, with increasingly effective cooperation, goodwill among the neighboring peoples of Southeast Asia.

It is a great privilege and honor for me today to be called upon to receive the Ramon Magsaysay Award on behalf of the ASSOCIATION OF SOUTHEAST ASIAN NATIONS. In doing so, allow me, therefore, to express on behalf of the member countries their deepest appreciation for the recognition which the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation is giving to ASEAN. We are also proud to share the honor of paying tribute to the late Ramon Magsaysay who, in the words of the Foundation, “worked to build a world in which freedom could be enjoyed by all, and man could live with man in honor and peace.” It is with the same objective that ASEAN was established in 1967. The member countries expressed their common desire to work together and promote regional cooperation for the welfare of their peoples. They declared that the countries of Southeast Asia share the primary responsibility for strengthening the economic and social stability of the region, which is essential for peace and freedom. The award that is bestowed on ASEAN today symbolizes not only recognition but also a testimony of the wise leadership of the member governments of ASEAN.

ASEAN has succeeded because we are able to give substance to its ideals and to adhere closely to the basic principles of equality and partnership. It is gratifying to hear from such a responsible body as the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation that ASEAN is on the right path in the never-ending quest for international understanding. The guiding principles of ASEAN in fulfilling its role in national, regional and world affairs were clearly defined by the ASEAN heads of government in Bali in 1976. The ASEAN countries recognize that their existing ties of history, geography and culture have bound the peoples of ASEAN together. They believe that peace and stability in the region can only be promoted through an abiding respect for justice and the rule of law, and that interstate relations should be conducted in the spirit of positive cooperation. ASEAN also believes that no progress and prosperity can be attained without its cooperation with all peace-loving nations, both within and outside Southeast Asia, in the maintenance of world peace, stability and harmony. ASEAN, therefore, owes its success to the collective efforts of its five Southeast Asian nations for having established a sound framework for economic growth, social progress and stability in the region.

The “land of the morning calm,” as Koreans poetically refer to their country, tragically during the past 100 years experienced one of the most violent and destructive chapters in its 30-odd centuries of history. Isolation of the “hermit kingdom” was shattered by Japanese penetration after 1876, with harsher colonization following the abortive Korean independence revolt in 1919. As Japan’s aggression spread to Manchuria and China in the 1930s, Koreans were conscripted for labor and military service.

Even independence at the close of World War II was incomplete as Korea was partitioned at the 38th parallel and Communists in the north blocked a United Nations call for unifying elections. Red Army attacks upon South Korea in June 1950 inaugurated massive destruction as cities were reduced to rubble, roads and bridges wrecked and farm livestock lost to marauding soldiers. Amidst the conflict and confusion, families were separated and between two and three million Korean lives were lost. Like many Korean Christians, Dr. CHANG KEE-RYO fled from the north during this civil war, leaving behind his wife and all but one of his children in what has proved to be a lasting separation.

Son of a devoutly religious family, CHANG had systematically prepared himself for service to the poor, graduating first from Seoul Medical College, then presenting his thesis and receiving his Ph.D. from Nagoya Imperial University College of Medicine in Japan. From 1940 to 1950 he was director of surgery at the Pyongyang Union Christian Hospital.

As millions of refugees, along with retreating South Korean soldiers, pushed down to within the “Pusan perimeter” in the tumultuous late summer of 1950, the sick and wounded were crowded into makeshift shacks in the camps. It was in this crisis that Dr. CHANG organized three squad tents into a clinic to treat war victims. In time this grew to become the Pusan Gospel Hospital with 180 beds, a staff of more than 200 and a 120-student nursing school.

In the hectic era of the past quarter of a century as South Korea has struggled to rebuild, life for most ordinary citizens has been hard. At first a meager diet, chronic unemployment and low wages compounded the suffering of families seeking survival despite loss of homes, schools and most public services. It was to meet the urgent need for medical care for the poor that 11 years ago Dr. CHANG enlisted the deacons of the churches in the Pusan region to organize Korea’s first medical cooperative in partnership with the Pusan Gospel Hospital; monthly dues for the first 700 who joined were 60 won (22 U.S. cents), when a package of cigarettes cost 100 won. A second medical insurance group amalgamated with it in April 1969 to form the Blue Cross Medical Cooperative whose membership grew to more than 20,000 by 1975.

As the medical cooperative has gained strength, it has sustained a commitment to service. Specifically, membership fees are kept low, clinics are established where members can readily reach them, all members receive regular checkups as part of systematic preventive medicine, and a spirit of cooperation and mutual trust is fostered. Through it all Dr. CHANG, now 70, has sustained his spartan selfless service, always giving rather than taking and, through his tireless treatment of those in need, continuing to give meaning to his Christian faith.

In electing Dr. CHANG KEE-RYO to receive the 1979 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Public Service, the Board of Trustees recognizes his practical, personal Christian charity in founding the Blue Cross Medical Cooperative in Pusan.

It is my great honor to have this opportunity of receiving the Ramon Magsaysay Award in this presentation ceremony, the 72nd birth anniversary of the late Ramon Magsaysay, your excellent and great leader. This is an honor, not only for myself, but for all the people of Korea. For this honor I am thankful to God, to the members of the Board of Trustees, and to all my friends who have helped me and made his possible.

I came down to South Korea as one of the refugees in December 1950 when Korea was at war. In Pusan I began to offer free medical treatment to poor patients. This work continued for six years with the assistance of the United Nations Civil Assistance Corps. Later I organized the Pusan Gospel Hospital which has grown to have 180 beds. 

In 1968, at a small gathering of Christians, I happened to hear Mr. Chai Kyu-chul talking of his experiences in Denmark where he was studying agriculture. About the time he completed his course of study he became ill and was in need of medical care, but he had no ready money. He was greatly relieved when he heard of the possibility of help from the Danish Government. This inspired me to begin a similar program in Korea, and we—three friends from Bible Class—appealed to all churches in Pusan City to organize a medical cooperative union. Twenty-three men agreed and organized it successfully. The next year about 13,000 beneficiaries of the Swedish Children Relief Fund joined the union and the union began growing.

I opened the Gospel Nursing Vocational School in 1968, the Blue Cross Hospital in 1975, and I organized the Blue Cross Social Welfare Association in 1976 in order to help develop our district society. All of these accomplishments were only possible with the blessings of Holy God and with my friends’ enthusiastic assistance. Therefore I would like to praise God and give thanks to Him; at the same time I would like to share this happiness and honor with my friends and with members of the Gospel Hospital and the Blue Cross.

I never worry about results when the motive is good. I have been doing my best with sincerity in my given work, but I have been endeavoring only; I believe God will always take care of the results. As I think peace is the most important goal today I will devote myself to seeking ways to peace for the rest of my life.