By RICHARD HUMPHRIES
Special to The Japan Times
The Japan Times: Apr. 30, 2001


THAI-MYANMAR BORDER -- Mae Sai is the end of the road in northern
Thailand. This is not to suggest that the lackluster town is undeveloped: It does a
roaring trade in gemstones (both real and fake), tourist trinkets, snacks and all kinds
of contraband. It's literal. The main street, Pahonyotin, runs north until it reaches the
Sai River. Across that waterway, which forms part of the border between Thailand
and Myanmar's Shan State, is a "Friendship" bridge leading to the Myanmar town of
Tachilek.

Not everyone in the area has used the bridge to cross the border. Some 300,000
Shans have found other ways to cross into Thailand -- and have never gone back.
While some were seeking better economic opportunities, many were fleeing any
number of human-rights abuses in their homeland, as well as the fighting that has
become endemic there.

"In Thailand, we Shans are like a can of worms," said one undocumented woman.
"Open the can and we can spread everywhere without too much trouble."
She had a point. There is an ethnic affinity between Thais and Myanmar's Shans,
who are called Thai Yai in the Thai language. However, the huge, continuing influx
is putting a strain on that traditional ability to blend in. Thailand wants most of the
new arrivals to go back home by August. And the most recent border crisis has only
made the overall situation worse.

In early February, the Myanmar Army, or Tatmadaw, seized a Thai military border
post at Ban Pang Noon, some 50 km west of Mae Sai. Several Thais were taken
prisoner. In strictly military terms it made sense. The Tatmadaw wanted to surround
and capture nearby Doi Kaw Wan, a stronghold of its fierce enemy, the Shan State
Army.

However, Association of Southeast Asian Nations members are not supposed to be
in the business of seizing each other's territories. An armed force, identified as Thai
by local media, quickly evicted the intruders, much to the satisfaction of an enraged
Thai public.

Tension mounted when the Tatmadaw shelled Mae Sai on Feb. 11, killing three
Thais and injuring others. Thai light tanks were positioned near the bridge, now
gated shut, with their turrets pointed north. The border was closed, but accusations
flew across. Thai Third Army commander, Gen. Wattanachai Chaimuanwong, was
quoted as suggesting that his Myanmar military counterparts "deserve the firing
squad" for their actions. Friendship had its limits.

All this occurred during a changeover in the Thai government. Interestingly, the
incoming leaders, Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra and especially his choice for
defense minister, retired general and ex-Prime Minister Chavalit Yongchaiyudh,
were seen, with good reason, as being more amenable than their predecessors to
working with Myanmar's military rulers.

Some observers thought Myanmar was simply pushing the envelope, testing the
new government's mettle. Others noted that Thai border policy is not so unified,
with regional army commands, intelligence bodies, local politicians and business
interests all possessing some degree of autonomy. Perhaps the Tatmadaw was trying
to get Bangkok to curb that autonomy to Myanmar's benefit. There are, for instance,
disputes over borders and over Yangon's claims that the Thais support the Myanmar
junta's armed enemies, something that Thailand denies.

Whatever the reason, the strife that spilled across the border and attracted
international attention in February was nothing new. Myanmar's political, economic
and social problems are legion, and in Shan State, the largest geographical
subdivision, they are and have been truly dazzling in their complexity.

Within the state, Shans make up just over half the population. Myanmars, Chinese,
Wa, Kachin, Palaung, Lahu, Akha, Pa-O and other groups also live there. A
kaleidoscope of armed militias, their political wings and other political and social
organizations jostle for space and allegiance. Motives run the full gamut from
idealistic ethnic activism to naked opportunism. And a booming narcotics trade with
substantial cross-border tentacles fuels its own wars in the region and defies
attempts at description. For baffled outside observers, much depends on the frame
of reference chosen.

The central question is, and has long been, the power relationship prevailing
between central Myanmar governments and outlying ethnic areas. As for the Shan
region, it was once more united, but by the 16th century it had split into several
dozen statelets. These were ruled by "saophas," hereditary princes who, while often
bickering among themselves, generally offered no more than nominal allegiance to
Myanmar's kings.

Britain's colonial overlords had responsibility for both the Shan principalities and
Myanmar-majority areas but maintained an administrative distinction. The saophas
and their territories were included in the "Frontier Areas" while central Myanmar
was managed as "Ministerial Burma."

The end of British rule and the coming of independence brought matters to a head.
In negotiations conducted in February 1947 at Panglong in Shan State,
representatives from the Frontier Areas -- including Shans, Chins and Kachins (but
not Karens) -- reached an agreement with Aung San, the Myanmar independence
leader. In return for a unified state, ethnic minority areas covered by the agreement
would continue to enjoy internal autonomy. That same year, the new constitution
for the Union of Burma stipulated that two states, Shan and Karenni, had the right of
secession after 10 years.

But instead of achieving concord, independent Myanmar descended into civil war.
What's more, an invasion of Shan State by Chinese Kuomintang forces retreating
from Mao Zedong's armies added more fuel to the fire. The KMT needed funds and
supplies. Much came clandestinely from America and Taiwan, more from the
revived and expanding opium trade.

To counter the KMT and other opponents in Shan State, Yangon boosted its military
presence there and whittled away at local autonomy. It also refused to countenance
any plebiscite on secession, despite the constitution. In 1962, Sao Shwe Thaike, an
ethnic Shan and former saopha who had been Burma's first president, tried to
initiate discussions about a more equitable federal union. In response, the
military seized power and scrapped the constitution. Sao Shwe Thaike died in prison
under circumstances not yet fully explained. Rising Shan discontent found a voice
in an emerging nationalism that, despite decades of factionalism and other
problems, survives today.

Aside from the Tatmadaw, there are three influential political groups and three Shan
armies in the state. Half are "above ground" in the sense that they operate with
Yangon's acquiescence. One, the Shan Nationalities League for Democracy, is
composed of MPs elected in the 1990 elections that were won by Aung San Suu
Kyi's NLD. The SNLD won the most seats in Shan State and is in the unique
position of being able to talk to different sides in Myanmar's political impasse. With
Yangon watching, though, it has had to be more circumspect in recent years.

Not legal in Myanmar, the Shan Democratic Union is a political organization
formed in 1996 by emigre Shans. It includes highly respected figures from the
nationalist struggles of the '60s and '70s. Chao Tzang Yawnghwe, a son of Sao
Shwe Thaike, is an important adviser. The SDU's position is that Shan State already
has theoretical independence and that any acceptable future union depends upon a
referendum and on reviving "the spirit of Panglong."

Two of the three armed Shan groups are also in the "legal fold," to use a term
favored by Yangon. These are the northern and central wings of the Shan State
Army, which are effectively separate groups with different histories, existing under
the same umbrella. The southern wing requested a similar ceasefire with Yangon
but was ignored.

The Shan State Army (South) has a political component called the Restoration
Council for Shan State. Although a Shan group, it hopes other minorities in the state
will join it on a basis of equality. At an interview, Aung Mart, the council's vice
chairman, said that their goal was "to establish Shan State as an independent nation
and not as part of a federal union." Stated objectives include "prosperity, peace,
establishing a democratic system and combating drugs."

The drug question is a pressing one. While opium is still grown in the Shan hills,
transported to border refineries and processed into heroin, methamphetamine
production has skyrocketed by comparison. Known in the area as "yaa baa"
(madness drug), this variant of speed is both cheap to buy and simple to make.
Easily transportable, it is causing a profound social crisis in Thailand. Senior Thai
officials have repeatedly threatened drastic action against drug traffickers.

Myanmar's state-controlled media like to pin the label of "drug dealers" on the SSA
(South), citing its officers' previous allegiance to opium warlord Khun Sa's Mong
Tai Army. How much merit there is to the allegation, like so much about the drug
trade, is not clear. Yet, it must be added, persistent questions have been raised about
Tatmadaw officers' involvement in, and certain benefit from, that trade. The SSA
(South) has attacked and destroyed several narcotics refineries in the region and
insists it is committed to eradicating the scourge. This has earned it the quiet
approval of some Thai military commanders. Speaking at Doi Kaw Wan, Colonel
Yawd Serk, RCSS chairman and SSA (South) leader, asserted: "We are not being
used by the Thais to do this. It is what we should do and is our group's antidrug
policy. Drugs are not just Thailand's problem or one for the Thai Yai [Shan] but a
global one."

With the KMT armies long gone and Khun Sa in supposed retirement in Yangon,
the largest, though hardly the only, narcotics power in Shan State is now the United
Wa State Army. Originally, ethnic Wa were used as foot soldiers by Myanmar's
communists. When that party imploded in 1989 mutinies, the USWA came into
being and quickly agreed to a ceasefire arrangement and de facto alliance with the
Tatmadaw. The Wa army is large and powerful, with over 20,000 well-equipped
soldiers. Described by the U.S. State Department as "the world's biggest armed
narcotics trafficking organization," it does not lack for funding.

The Tatmadaw's consistent point of view is that strong central government and state
unity are the prime objectives. Independence -- or even significant autonomy -- for
ethnic minority states is anathema. The means justify the ends even if they include
savagery and concordats with narco-militias.

In Shan State, human rights are very often replaced by human wrongs. Between
1996 and 1998, some 1,500 villages were uprooted and over 300,000 villagers in
central Shan State were forcibly relocated by the Tatmadaw to what might be
termed "strategic hamlets." Empty areas were declared "free-fire zones." That meant
if you stayed, you died. The ostensible purpose was to deprive the Shan State Army
of supporters, recruits, supplies and a staging area, but the net effect was immense
privation and brutalization. Myanmar soldiers wreaked havoc with numerous
extrajudicial killings, rapes and systematic extortion. Concentrated populations also
provided a very convenient source of forced labor. Thousands fled to Thailand.

After their ceasefire deal with the USWA, the Tatmadaw encouraged the Wa Army
to attack Khun Sa's forces in southern Shan State with the inducement of "you fight
for the land, and you'll get it." After Khun Sa's surrender, the Wa asked for and
received two township sections, Mong Hsat and Mong Ton, north of the Thai
border. Since October 1999, over 150,000 Wa have moved south from their
homeland in the northern Wa Hills. A similar number are expected in further
planned migration phases. At Mong Hsat, according to the Shan Herald Agency for
News, a border news agency, "some of the migrants moved to open land, while
others, maybe military people, took over people's houses. Some people were paid,
but others were chased out at gunpoint."

Refugees continue to cross the border. Since March 27, over 600 Shan and Akha
villagers have arrived in Thailand from just east of Mong Hsat. "We hope we are
not driven back in a hurry, because we won't be able to go back to our old homes
and farms," one refugee said. "They have been taken over by the Wa."
Decades of discord in Shan State have not produced any enduring solutions. Endless
cycles of violence, factionalism and repression have seen to that. (RH)