Passive Resistance in Burma

[NBH03114@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx]

Errors-To:owner-burmanet-l@xxxxxxxxxxx
FROM:NBH03114@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Burmese Relief Center--Japan
DATE:April 17, 1995
TIME: 7:21PM JST
SUBJ:Burmese People's Passive Resistance, 
article by Myint Shwe

DEFYING THE LEOPARD
Burmese Show the Power of Passive Resistance

Invisible Weapons of the People
by Myint Shwe

Sometimes reading about oppressive, murderous regimes in
foreign lands serves more to alienate and depress than inform
and outrage.  For those who aren't desensitized to it, the
enormity of human suffering cause feelings of powerlessness.

The story of the grassroots resistance in Burma, where people
haven't given up hope for a better society despite decades of
blood-spattered dictatorships, is at once horrifying and deeply
inspiring.  And unlike many international conflicts, students
can easily use their economic power to make an effective call
for justice.

Freedom of expression in Burma begins on toilet room walls. 
But while the creative writing of other teens of the world is
dominated by sexual fantasy, in Rangoon, capital of Burma,
washrooms have democracy walls.

The ruling military regime of Burma has freely plastered the
whole country with their slogan "Whoever divides us: We
remain strongly united" on huge and costly billboards.  This is
intended for its rank and file and as a response to all enemies at
home or abroad.  Recently however, a line appeared on a
washroom wall of the most sacred shrine and the major tourist
attraction in the country that greatly alarmed the State Law
and Order Restoration Council (SLORC).  It was an ironic
completion to their slogan, that reads: "We will split ourselves
when the time comes."

SLORC, true to its history of brutal repression, swooped down
immediately on the area the writing appeared -- informers are
plentiful in this city of three million inhabitants.  All four
approaches to the shrine from foothill to the top were sealed off
for the day and all suspicious looking youths in a mile
diametre around the pagoda were interrogated.  Those who
happened to be near the washroom that morning were even
more unfortunate.  They were taken to the intelligence units,
harshly questioned and held until the supposed culprit was
discovered.

In Burma, where it can be said that fort-five million are
oppressed by forty-five thugs in uniform, strong dislike of the
dictatorship occasionally shows the power of passive
resistance.  Even the news of a washroom wall writing spreads
very -- from mouth to mouth, with sardonic smiles or laughter
in market places, in cafes, even at bus stops.

Supplying the Army

People have used graffiti as a mode of resistance since SLORC
gained power through a bloody coup in 1988.  Writings
attacked the army, appearing everywhere on the walls around
the city, written quickly, anonymously, with anything at hand. 
The earliest one was written with fast varnish paint on the side
of the municipal excrement-carrying truck: "Army Supply." 
In Burma, stray dogs live on human excrement.

Sometimes, students and youth even set themselves Kamikaze-like missions expre
ssing their open
defiance against the
regime.  A mature student named Thein Tun, weary of his own
ineffective exiled opposition in Thailand, slipped back into
Burma and began openly distributing anti-regime pamphlets in
the streets of Rangoon.  He is now serving a seven-year jail
sentence under Section (5) 1 of the Emergency Provisions Act
in Insein Jail, Southeast Asia's most infamous prison.

Even after six years of defeat, most Rangoonians still do not
accept it as final and they quarrel with those who have
accepted it.  They still show signs of derision at every chance,
revealing that their passivity is only due to their total
helplessness.  On September 18, 1994, the sixth anniversary of
SLORC's coup, a man from one of Rangoon's middle class
neighbourhoods took action.  Fired from his job for his part in
the pro-democracy uprisings, he hoised the old democratic
"Union of Burma" flag last used during the civilian rule.  It
contrasted with his neighbour's new "Union of Myanmar"
flag, which showed he had embraced the new order.

This democratic sympathizer was taken to the intelligence
headquarters and questioned for three days and two nights
without breaks for food or sleep.  In rotation he was asked
questions like "What did you mean by raising that old flag? 
Which organization is behind you to make such a bold
gesture?  What do you think of the SLORC, the army and the
current leaders of the state?"

He maintained that it was a sheer mistake, an accident. 
Though dissatisfied with his answer, they drove him back
home so as to disprove the news of his arrest should it get
leaked to the foreign press.  Following his friends advice to
flee, he narrowly escaped when they came for him a second
time.  He is now in Thailand under the protection of the office
of United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.

Asking for trouble?

Some people think that making these gestures is merely asking
for trouble.  Yet even these people sometimes find themselves
telling jokes about the craziness of the junta leaders.  People
will tease a friend who is frightened by a loud noise, "Don't be
afraid, the shooting is only into the sky."  This is a misquote of
Ne Win, the Burmese dictator, who threatened the country at
the advent of the 1988 popular uprising by saying, "When the
army shoots, it shots to hit, no shooting into he sky."  Senior
General Saw Maung, the first chief of SLORC and responsible
for 1200 civilians in Rangoon alone in September 1988
claimed in a speech to have saved the country.  For this, the
people gave him the nickname of "I Saved Burma Saw
Maung."

Ironies quickly change into humour and jokes which in turn
are transformed into invisible weapons of the people.   Where
freedom of expression is totally restricted, rumours work very
well.  Every morning, people read these independent "Daily
News (without) papers" from lips in public places such as
cafes, green markets and workplaces.  News and opinions are
exchanged freely within trusted circles.  Sometimes, they even
send "Open Letters," consisting of fabricated news, jokes and
even curses, to the authorities by letting the junta's informers
overhear.  It's the Burmese version of the Information
Superhighway, and the people call the informers their
government-paid "channels."

Youth and students regularly invent new ciphers and
codenames in order to pass the news safely under the noses of
military officers.  The military is always checking foreigners
and tourists who show interest in Burmese underground
politics, fearing that they will bring news of the suppression
home.  The government surveillance is so high in the city that
informers are believed to be at a one-in-five ration.  Their
special assignment: watch foreigners and the Burmese students
who might try to contact them.

Black Market News

Some intellectuals and technicians try to smuggle out of the
country -- not contraband goods, but news about the junta's
human rights violations.  On September 4, 1994, Dr. Khin
Zaw Win, a former UNICEF worker, was arrested at Rangoon
airport when he was about to board a plane bound for
Singapore.  The agents found in his belongs a disple find its Achilles heel --
 people
have hopes for a split within the army.  The leaders,
superstitious and fearing bad omens, remember with
trepidation that the main body of the army wholly voted
against them in the 1990 election.  They also witnessed the
Soviet Army's neutrality in the Russian episode of 1991.  This
explains their inability to tolerate any "split thoughts," even if
it's just on a washroom wall.

The junta's recent display of famous political prisoner (and
1991 Nobel Laureate for Peace) Aung San Suu Kyi was a
move worthy of Hollywood, and unfortunately indicates no
real change.  Kevin Heppner, a Metro Toronto gentleman
returned from Burma and is now showing pictures depicting
the reality there to Canadians.  From him, we learn that the
leopard has not yet changed its spots.

(Myint Shwe has been involved in Burmese anti-dictatorship
activities since the 1970s and was imprisoned there five years
for it.  After the 1988 national uprising in Burma he fled to the
jungle on the Burma border and lived a guerrilla life for a
year.  He arrived in Canada nine months ago and is currently
working as a native speaker informant for Burmese at the
Department of Languages, Literature and Linguistics at York
University.)


The Choice of a New Generation:
Do I want to support a dictatorship?

By Myint Shwe

Six years ago in 1988, a military dictatorship (SLORC)
disdained all norms of decent humanity and killed at least
12,000 citizens in six weeks in order to cling to the illegitimate
power it seized 26 years earlier.  It still continues to mock the
world's call to respect human rights, and is denying these to
forty five million Burmese people.

It recently expanded and upgraded its military power -- for use
against its own people.  The weapons purchased from China
alone cost $1.2 billion US.  For payments it has sold the
country's vast natural resources such as primeval rain forests,
minerals, gems, jade, oil and gas reserves and, though
indirectly, opium.  It also invites foreign investments to boost
income.  These profiteers included oil giants such as Total,
Nippon Oil, Petro Canada and PepsiCo.

Pepsi's timely money ($4 million US) along with that from
Thai logging and fishing rights, has saved the SLORC
dictatorship -- and prolonged the servitude of the Burmese
people.  It's presence as an internationally famous American
firm also renders the military junta legitimacy.

Lately the military has used chemical and biological weapons
to wipe out Burma's Karen native people from strategic areas. 
Its army of trigger-happy killers and rapists is driving
hundreds of thousands of people of all social and ethnic
minority groups out of the country, forcing them to become
refugees in neighboring lands.  It is also still holding political
prisoners, including Aung San Suu Kyi, the 1991 Nobel
Laureate for Peace, San San Nwe, a celebrated woman write
and MP and Nay Min, a well known lawyer and journalist, in
prison or in custody without real charges.

Over time, themselves disillusioned with the state of things in
Burma, some business firms such as Eddie Bauer, Levi
Strauss, Texaco, Petro Canada and others withdrew from
Burma.  But PepsiCo, instead of pulling out like others, now
enjoys the monopoly of Burma's fast food industry and even
plans to open new ventures: Pizza Hut, KFC and Taco Bell
restaurants, in addition to current Pepsi and 7-UP bottlers.  It
even sponsored a trade show to please the military rulers.

Former Petro Canada executive John Ralson Saul called
SLORC generals, "Thugs, criminals and drug dealers." A
statement by one of a withdrawing Levi Strauss executives is
remarkable.  He said, "It is not possible to do business in
Burma without directly supporting the military government
and its pervasive violations of human rights."

Gotta Boycott PEPSI!

>From Excalibur/York University/April 5