Burma’s 8888 Silver Jubilee

Twenty-five years after the 1988 pro-democracy uprising in Burma, those who took part in the demonstrations were able to commemorate the anniversary for the first time, remembering fallen comrades and celebrating the spirit of the mass protests that spawned a movement for democracy, human rights and federalism throughout the country and around the world.

Over the last three days, thousands of those who were involved in the 1988 protests and those who have since picked up the torch gathered at a conference hall in Rangoon to discuss key issues in Burma’s transition, including peace and federalism, national reconciliation, democracy and human rights, and state-building and the role of democratic forces, including civil society in Burma and in exile, political parties, ethnic groups, farmers and workers. Discussions were lively and produced detailed recommendations for the future of the country, the likes of which would have been unthinkable only three years ago. Some points raised, such as accountability for the violent attacks on protesters, are still contentious today. It will be telling about the current state of reforms if there are any repercussions against those who organized or participated in the anniversary.

Outside the hall, there were exhibitions of photos of the 1988 protests, political prisoners, and the All Burma Students’ Democratic Front (the armed group established after students fled from the violent crackdown to the jungle on the Thailand-Burma border), as well as a replica of a typical jail cell in which protesters were held (and in which human rights defenders are still being held today). There was also a heartbreaking video on repeat with scenes from the uprising and the violent crackdown, surrounded by a crowd of people watching with horror and sadness that such cruelty was possible. A group of musicians and former political prisoners led lively sing-a-longs of protest songs which they had sung together twenty-five years ago. Past all of this would walk notable figures, such as 88 Generation Peace and Open Society leader Min Ko Naing, Minister Aung Min, or US Ambassador Derek Mitchell, trailed by crowds of photographers, journalists and people seeking autographs or photos.

The event culminated today with musical performances and speeches, including by Aung San Suu Kyi, harkening back to 1988 when she first took the stage to address the protesters in Rangoon. Her entrance into the hall interrupted the program as media surged around her and had to be corralled back. Upstairs, throngs of people pressed together in the sticky heat cheering for “Amay Suu” with palpable excitement. On the front steps of the hall, a large screen was erected for the crowds who were not able to fit inside the hall.

After 25 years under brutal military dictatorship, the people’s desire for democracy and freedom is just as strong as it was then. They have survived imprisonment, exile, war and the death of loved ones with the faith that a democratic Burma is on its way and the spirit to continue to fight for it. It was both surreal and inspiring that the event was allowed to take place, and that it was attended by so many of the people who will play important roles in Burma’s future.

Commemoration Calls Attention to Political Prisoners’ Struggle

On 1 February, a group of former political prisoners held a public forum in Rangoon to commemorate their protest against forced prison labor in Tharawaddy Prison in 1989. The group was arrested and imprisoned after the 1988 popular uprising that was brutally crushed by the military regime. The “Anti-Labor Protest”, as they called it, was an act of resistance to the first time after the 1988 uprising that prison authorities imposed hard labor on political prisoners. It was also the first time after the uprising that prisoners stood up for their rights and the prison authorities’ first use of widespread and brutal torture against them.

On 17 November 1989, 250 political prisoners were transferred from Insein Prison to Tharawaddy Prison in Pegu Division. On 23 November, prison authorities began to force the political prisoners to perform hard labor, but 6 people refused to do so. Authorities separated them into two groups, severely beat each of the prisoners and placed them in solitary confinement. The following day, other political prisoners demanded to see the 6 who had been taken away. When their demand was rejected, they refused to perform hard labor as well. As with the 6 original protesters, they were also sent to solitary confinement and tortured terribly. Three of these protesters died shortly after they were released from prison.

Released

On 11 December, my friend Moe Thway and his 7 fellow protest organizer colleagues were released from prison, as well as Ashin Gambira. It was an unexpected but bittersweet relief.

They still face lengthy court cases on charges of committing an offence against the State and disturbing public tranquility. Judging from other cases that many of them still face, these court hearings will likely draw on for months. Rather than providing a means to justice, the legal system seems to be designed to keep activists busy with court hearings in which nothing happens, so as to waste their time and try to keep them from organizing further protests.

But protests against the Letpadaung copper mine and the violent crackdown on monks and protesters are continuing throughout the country – including large demonstrations by monks that recall the Saffron Revolution. Protesters also continue to be arrested. Some are released shortly after being arrested; others are still detained.

After his release, Moe Thway told Radio Free Asia, “This kind of action under unjust laws causes doubt among the people that [the government] are reforming the country, and is weakening the people’s trust, I think. They shouldn’t do this.”

A Personal Appeal for a Dear Friend

Over the last year and a half, there has been a lot of news about Burma’s democratic transition, and the impressive speed with which it seems to be happening. On the ground, however, there is still a long way to go on many issues, including the rights of the country’s ethnic minorities and freedom of expression.

For months there have been protests by villagers and farmers in Monywa in the northwestern part of Burma against the Letpadaung copper mine, which is run jointly by a military-backed company and a subsidiary of China’s Norinco, a weapons manufacturer (it also used to be financed by the Canadian company Ivanhoe). The copper mine has displaced villagers whose land was confiscated for the project; those who remained in the area have to deal with open acid pits, contaminated streams and farmlands, and birth defects in their children.

Last week in the middle of the night, there was a brutal crackdown on monks and villagers who were protesting the mine. Riot police fired water cannons, tear gas and set the camps on fire, injuring more than 100 people, mostly monks. The photos are too gruesome to share – more photos of burned monks and people, which those of you in the Tibet movement have seen enough of in the last year.

At protests in Rangoon last week, Moe Thway, one of my closest friends was arrested for helping to organize protests against the copper mine and the crackdown. He had been in hiding for several days after 6 of his colleagues were arrested at earlier protests. Despite a warrant for his arrest, the crackdown in Letpadaung compelled him to lead the protests again.

Stars

Five young Burmese activists sat on the elevated walkway that runs along the west shore of Inya Lake in Rangoon under a sky full of stars that shone remarkably bright for a city of 10 million people and despite the floodlights illuminating the path. They passed around a beaten up blue acoustic guitar, taking turns playing a song as the others sang along.

The five were among the thirteen organizers of a protest on the International Day of Peace in which hundreds of people marched through the streets of Rangoon, calling for peace in Burma, and especially in Kachin State. The protest culminated at the very same place they sat that night with demonstrators building a stone monument and holding several minutes of silent prayer for those who have died in conflicts in the country. This was the site of a massacre of so many student protesters in March 1988 that the walkway’s name was changed from “White Bridge” to “Red Bridge.”

The activists were facing court cases in all ten townships the protest passed through in September and were required to appear at court hearings nearly every day – and sometimes several in one day – a schedule that was admittedly cutting into their work. One of them was also having difficulties applying for a passport since.

The Long Road to Ending Armed Conflict in Burma

On 21 September, people around the world marked the United Nations’ International Day of Peace, a day that highlighted just how far there remains to go to achieve lasting peace in Burma.

While Daw Aung San Suu Kyi was being feted on her first trip to the US in more than two decades, Kachin community members called on Daw Suu to do more for the people in Kachin State. As many as 90,000 people have been displaced due to armed conflict between the Burma Army and the Kachin Independence Army, and have little access to urgently needed humanitarian assistance.

Hundreds of protesters gathered in Rangoon on 21 September to call for peace in Burma, and especially in Kachin State. They wore blue headbands and carried signs reading “Stop Civil War” and “Justice Guarantees Lasting Peace” as they walked from City Hall to Inya Lake. Another group of protesters were stopped from traveling to Naypyidaw where they had planned to protest in front of the office of the Burma Army’s Commander-in-Chief; they instead joined the main group.

While authorities did not stop the main protest in Rangoon, the police later questioned 15 activists and have filed charges against them for violating Article 18 of the problematic Law Relating to Peaceful Assembly and Peaceful Procession for demonstrating without official permission. The activists say that they had applied for permission to protest and submitted all the necessary documents, but had been denied by authorities without being given any reason.

Imagining Peace and Public Engagement

I recently went to the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts exhibit about John Lennon and Yoko Ono, entitled “Imagine: The Peace Ballad of John & Yoko”. Mixing the couple’s music and artwork, the exhibit gave a detailed chronology of John and Yoko’s relationship while encouraging the public to interact with the ideas and values they embodied. There was the nail painting in which members of the public were encouraged to hammer a nail and tie a piece of their hair around it, an all-white chess set, and a room with maps of the world on which people could stamp the words “Imagine Peace”. My favourite was the last room where we wrote our hopes for peace on cards and hung them from one of the dozen trees fluttering with well wishes of thousands of people.

Great exhibits such as this one always reignite my interest in museum curation. “Imagine” was also inspiring in its content. Despite having grown up listening to the Beatles, I was surprised how little I knew about John and Yoko, other than the couple’s famous bed-in at Montreal’s Queen Elizabeth Hotel and the claim that Yoko broke up the Beatles. I was impressed by the couple’s commitment to issues of social justice and the creative ideas they came up with, from their acorn campaign and the “War is Over! (if you want it)” billboard Christmas present, to the announcement of the country Nutopia and the album “Some Time in New York City”. However, John and Yoko’s impassioned campaigns made me realize that in today’s music and art world, we don’t have the same principled actions. Artists write political lyrics and promote different causes, but I can’t think of a single one who is doing anything nearly as creative or engaging as John and Yoko did.

Standing in a room surrounded by “War is Over!” posters and video footage of protests all over the world, I was saddened by the seeming lack of political awareness or engagement today in comparison to the 60’s and 70’s when John and Yoko were at the height of their activism. I guess it didn’t help that my excitement about activism in the 60’s and 70’s was being fed by “My Revolutions”, a novel by Hari Kunzru that I was reading at the time.

And yet in the last room, thousands of people had taken the time to write messages of hope for peace and tie them onto the branches of trees. I read a lot of the messages. People obviously care about peace and making the world a better place; I think they just need to be inspired to take action. Yoko Ono and this exhibit inspired people to take this small symbolic action.

But we need more.