Yangon

The setting is remarkable. Resplendent golden pagodas shimmer in the light. Riverboats pass lush, green, irrigated paddy fields. Ethnic festivals explode in color and noise against a still-grand backdrop of fading colonial architecture. Bright sarong-like "longyis," wrapped around people's waists add to the vividness of the scene. And here and there, magnificent, haunting ruins evoke the splendor of the past.

Yet if the sun shines brightly upon the Myanmar of coffee-table photo albums, a vast disturbing darkness also shadows the country. This is not a happy society. Fear, deprivation and worse are commonplace.

Myanmar has been under varying forms of military rule since 1962. The present government, euphemistically naming themselves the State Peace and Development Council, consists largely of senior military brass at the top, with regional commanders filling assorted Cabinet positions. The actions of these men have led to the quip that George Orwell wrote "1984", a sequel to his "Burmese Days." Orwellian this government certainly is.

Even the most naive visitor can not miss the billboards. Large and small, always with white text on a red background, they have been placed throughout the country. Many of messages, which are occasionally in English, call for obedience- "LOVE AND CHERISH THE MOTHERLAND", or "OBSERVANCE OF DISCIPLINE LEADS TO SAFETY." Others announce the presence of enemies and what the military will do to them if they are caught.

A few of these exhortations have been placed in curious locations, such as in front of Yangon's U.S. Embassy. The reasoning, apart from the probable insult intended, may be religious in origin. Many Myanmars believe in "nats," 37 capricious spirits whose worship predates the arrival of Buddhism. Red and white are the colors associated with placating these potentially dangerous entities. The authorities may well see the signs as useful talismans, capable of warding off malign foreign influence.

The amount of construction under way in Yangon is striking. Hotels, half-built or with signs proclaiming "Opening Soon," dot the horizon. But the air of burgeoning prosperity suggested by this is misleading. There are few tourists. The younger, backpacking crowd is largely absent and among older tourists a sheepish, should-we-really-be-here demeanor is common.

Any profits flowing from the from construction projects, or from the sale of the country's natural resources have mostly benefited the "Tatmadaw," or Myanmar Army and a few other favored groups. For the average person, daily life is a struggle. Inflation is severe and the black market rate for Myanmar's currency, the kyat, has doubled in the last two years.

Child Laborers, soldiers, and spies

According to a member of the Democratic Party for a New Society , a popular but now-banned student organization, many of Yangon's citizens have no disposable income. They will pawn their few personal possessions in the mornings to pay for transportation to work sites. If they are lucky enough to get work that day, they can buy back their things as they go home in the evenings.

Work is available, but it is often not of the paid--or at least well-paid--variety. The use of forced labor throughout Myanmar has been well documented. One notorious example is the construction of the Ye to Dawei (Tavoy) railway in the south, with thousands of villagers, dragooned for the purpose and guarded by armed soldiers.

North of Yangon, especially between the cities of Nyaunglebin and Toungoo, child labor is a frequent and visible phenomenon. At one small girls, clearly younger than 10, were pouring tar at roadworks under the blazing sun. "It is very sad; they have no chance for school," one bystander quietly observed.

A genuine growth industry in Myanmar has been the military--meaning more soldiers, more equipment, and more spies for the Military Intelligence Service . Consequently, journalists must be very careful whom they speak to, not so much for their own safety as for that of their interlocutors. Myanmar people are exceedingly polite and friendly. Pleasantries and smiles are readily exchanged but it is important to let people broach the more difficult topics in their own ways.

"We can talk here safely," one very well-informed gentleman said. "If we were in public, Military Intelligence might be watching and listening."

Under such laws as the 1950 Emergency Provisons Act, a seven-year jail term awaits anyone who "causes or intends to spread false rumors about the government." This and newer laws that have followed it are interpreted as the government sees fit, to suppress dissent.

And it is not just in the tea shops and marketplaces where "they" might be listening. According to Professor Desmond Ball, author of "Burma's Military Secrets" (White Lotus, 1998), "Monitoring of domestic conversations is widespread, especially when critics of the government or associates of critics are involved. All domestic long distance connections can be intercepted and recorded at the exchanges in Rangoon (now Yangon) and Mandalay. (MIS officers are stationed at both exchanges)." Additionally, the regime has recently received equipment enabling it to monitor satellite, fax, and e-mail transmissions.

The military junta attempts to justify its heavy handedness by saying it is the only force capable of preserving the unity of the State. At least one-third (actual numbers are contested) of Myanmar's citizens belong to an ethnic minority. Many of these groups are either in a state of active insurgency or maintaining a tenuous cease-fire with the government. The nationalities question is central to Myanmar politics. It is one that past and present governments have failed to address adequately and one that any future democratic government will have to treat very carefully.

A place of tension and uncertainty.

This March, I went to Karen State in Southeastern Myanmar, where what is perhaps the world's longest-running civil war continues. Since 1949, the Karen National Union and its military wing have been fighting successive Myanmar governments, at first for independence and more recently for autonomy in a proposed democratic federal state. The Karen ethnic minority is possibly Myanmar's largest (the same claim is made for the Shan).

The capital, Hpa-an, is an immediately appealing place, situated in a lowland valley alongside one of Asia's great rivers, the Salween, with majestic karst formations rising in the distance. At first, the atmosphere of the town is inviting. In the evenings, for instance, it is relaxing to walk down the darkened side streets, past teak houses lit by small oil lamps.

Soon, however, more ominous elements come into focus. If the military presence ranges from the subtle to the overt in Yangon, it is at times overwhelming in Hpa-an, giving the impression of an occupying force. A compound fenced-off with barbed wire occupies a good chunk of city land. This is the base area for the 22nd Light Infantry Division, one of ten such divisions in Myanmar's Army.

The 22nd participates in military action against KNU forces. It was involved in the major battles of 1995 that saw the capture of the Karen headquarters at Manerplaw, along the Thai border, a devastating blow to the KNU. This division also saw "action" in 1988, when it was involved in the gunning down of thousands of unarmed prodemocracy demonstrators.

The Tatmadaw isn't the only armed presence, which further adds to the tension and uncertainty that pervade the place. I saw at least 100 other soldiers, recognizable by their distinctive yellow headbands, traveling in pick-ups or larger trucks. Many appeared to be very young, probably in their early teens, and all looked a little menacing with grenades strapped to their belts and assault rifles in their hands. Some sported the acronym DKBA in Roman letters on their headbands.

The DKBA, or Democratic Karen Buddhist Army, is a splinter group that broke away from the KNU in December 1994, following complaints by many Buddhist Karen foot soldiers that they were being marginalized by the largely-Christian KNU leadership. It was the DKBA that led the Myanmar Army into the KNU fortress at Manerplaw, and it was this group that has led attacks on Karen refugee camps in Thailand, destroying several camps and killing many refugees.

The word from the hills is bad

The DKBA have a forward base 13 km east of Hpa-an and a main one 48 km miles north at Myaing Gyi Ngyu. Many locals do not welcome their presence. "We don't like them. They have spent too much time in the jungle and are wild. If they want something, they take it," I was told. The DKBA are still allied with the Tatmadaw but there are whispers this will not last.

Farmers in the area, like farmers elsewhere in Myanmar, have to subsidize the government by selling a good portion of their crop at a steep discount from the market price, arousing great disaffection. Additionally, outside Hpa-an there are military-owned rubber plantations, cleared and planted with forced labor. When villagers' livestock roams into the plantations the Army shoots it. In early March, a section of one plantation burned down. Whether this was a typical dry-season occurrence or some villagers' revenge, no one was saying.

Most of the fighting takes place in the Dawna Range, well to the east of Hpa-an. I was permitted to travel no more than 40 km in that direction, as far as the town of Hlaing-bwe, where I was assigned a permanent "escort" of three MIS officials. Nonetheless, the word from those hills is very bad.

According to rights-monitoring organizations like the Karen Human Rights Group, as well as officials from aid agencies who requested anonymity, the Tatmadaw is committing large-scale human-rights abuses. Army conscripts are not receiving free rice from the quota system but are being told to "grow it or take it." They take it.

In an effort to deny the KNU support, the Tatmadaw is also declaring large areas free-fire zones and ordering inhabitants, often at gunpoint or by burning their villages, to relocate to more controllable settlements. This doubling and tripling of populations is causing immense hunger and hardship, as newcomers are settled on other villages' paddy fields.

Hundreds of thousands of others are voting with their feet and fleeing. Many are still hiding within Myanmar and are thus, in the modern parlance of nongovernment organizations, internally displaced persons. Their situation is perilous and not easily ameliorated. Many hide in areas strewn with landmines. I was told that in recent months many very elderly people, who had previously felt bound to their lands no matter what, were fleeing as well.

Amid the darkness, one glimmer of light can be glimpsed in Karen State. Some 40 km from Hpa-an is the monastery town of Thamanya. The Abbot, or "sayadaw," of Thamanya is one of the most venerated Buddhist monks in Southeast Asia. He has declared a small "zone of peace" at Thamanya and thousands have come to live there near him in relative safety.

When I met the Thamanya Sayadaw he showed me a large photo taken of him with Aung San Suu Kyi, Myanmar's opposition leader. Thamanya was the first place Suu Kyi traveled outside Yangon after being released from house arrest in 1995. The Thamanya Sayadaw is said to tell his SPDC visitors repeatedly that there will be no progress in Myanmar until there is peace and until Suu Kyi is running the country. If only they would take his advice. (RH)

©2000 The Japan Times