AP: Sunday in Rangoon

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SUNDAY IN RANGOON
   By DENIS D. GRAY
 Associated Press Writer

   RANGOON, Burma (AP) -- On a recent Sunday afternoon, nearly 4,000
Rangoon residents gathered to hear Aung San Suu Kyi, the charismatic leader
of Burma's democracy, preach freedom.
   As she spoke, far more people scoured department stores for bargains,
chatted on mobile phones and cruised the streets of Rangoon in new
Japanese-made cars.
   These are members of Burma's still small but growing middle class. Some
risked their lives for Suu Kyi's cause eight years ago. Now, they'd rather
get rich.
   "We all love her. But I don't know many who pray to the Lord Buddha for
democracy," said a white-collar worker, Than Aye. "We pray for a decent
life, peace and more money."
   The generals who run Burma have quashed political opponents since coming
to power in 1988, when troops brutally put down a pro-democracy uprising
led by Suu Kyi. But they have also loosened up in economic matters.
   For the two generations who lived under an isolationist, bankrupt system
known as the "Burmese Road to Socialism," the relatively open door, liberal
policy of the generals has uncorked a pent-up pursuit of the good life.
   How hard these generations would be willing to struggle and sacrifice to
wrest political freedom from the regime -- which is widely unpopular --
remains one of the key question marks over Burma.
   Rangoon -- or Yangon as the Burmese call it -- is a world apart from the
pre-1988 city.
   Private businesses have proliferated, high-rises are beginning to dwarf
the moldering British colonial buildings and once virtually empty streets
are snarled by traffic jams.
   Poverty remains and the gap between rich and poor grows, but there's
more cash around than in decades. Besides foreign investment, some $3
billion has flowed in from Burmese abroad -- and probably from narcotics
traffickers too -- since exchange controls were loosened in early 1995.
   While Suu Kyi, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate, spoke to the crowd
outside her home, shoppers at the Yusana Department Store eyed items that
were the stuff of dreams a few years ago -- micro-wave ovens and exercise
machines, stuffed toy animals and Starr Ranch apples from Washington State.
   At the FMI mall, several "Yangon yuppies" strolled through outlets like
Hang Ten and Heart Rock, sporting sarongs and mobile phones, using the
local Yoma credit card.
   On a suburban avenue, a big government billboard says: "Crush all
internal and external destructive elements." Next to it is a bright sign
for Macintosh computers: "It does more. It costs less. It's that simple."
   Western analysts say the middle class is fragmented and highly
centralized in Rangoon. Its richer members in the business sector are often
dependent on the military for contracts and permits. A number are ethnic
Chinese, traditionally looked upon with animosity by the Burmese majority.
   Many of Burma's best and brightest are exiles, including thousands of
students who fled the 1988 repression. And the chances of a well-educated
middle class developing appear bleak.
   As the generation educated during British rule and a period of democracy
before the 1962 military take-over passes, it is being replaced by one
poorly schooled and isolated from the outside world.
   And future products of the system may be even worse: an estimated 65
percent to 75 percent of children who start kindergarten don't even make it
to the fifth grade.
   "I don't think there is such a thing as a real middle class in Burma,"
Suu Kyi said in an interview.
   "I think there is too much emphasis on this business of middle class
equals democracy. That is not necessarily so," she added.
   Rather than looking to a specific segment of society, Suu Kyi hopes the
"general will of the people" will build a new Burma.
   "In countries where radical changes have taken place, the forces working
for change are many and linked to each other. And sometimes there are
forces you never expected, you never counted on," she said.
   Ideally, many Burmese want both a lifting of the repressive mantle and
more money in their pockets.
   "We live on hope, and learn to become tightrope walkers," said Thein Pe,
a shop owner who asked that his real name not be used. His sympathies are
with Suu Kyi, but he's using every opportunity to reap profits without
stepping on military toes.
   
KT
ISBDA