Burma/Myanmar: What Everyone Needs to Know (28 page)

The European Union adopted its Common Position on Myanmar on October 28, 1996. It called for the expulsion of all military personnel and an embargo on arms, munitions, and military equipment. It suspended all nonhumanitarian aid but allowed assistance to help alleviate poverty and basic human needs. It banned entry visas for SLORC and family members, and suspended high-level bilateral government visits to Burma (ministers and political directors and higher). All provisions were renewable and in force for a six-month period. In 1997, the European Union withdrew the general system of trade preferences for agriculture; previously, those for industry had been withdrawn. There seems to be growing discontent within various EU countries that the approach to Myanmar has not yielded the desired effects, and individual countries have been restudying their approaches. Six donors instituted the “Three Disease” (malaria, tuberculosis, and HIV/AIDS) program that will provide about US$20 million annually to that country for a five-year period after the United States effectively refused to provide assistance to the Global Fund for the same purposes, although in the spring of 2009 there were indications that the United States might reconsider its position. The visit in January 2009 by the ministers of development of Norway and Denmark
is an indication of growing frustrations with the effectiveness of present EU policy.

Had political change occurred in Myanmar within a relatively short period after 1988, the return of the educated Burmese who fled the country would have been fairly easy, and they probably would have assumed significant positions in any new administration. Before 1962, Burma was one of the few countries in Asia from which there was no brain drain. At low incomes but in a culturally comfortable atmosphere, most Burmese preferred to stay home even after receiving doctoral degrees from Western institutions that offered them employment.

Now, the situation has evolved. There are two elements of the educated diaspora. The first is the NCGUB, which claims to be the legitimate government because it is composed of NLD members who were elected in 1988 and were in a majority in that (disputed) body. They fled the country and have been operating in Washington, D.C., with representation in New York and Brussels. Under the 2010 election, they would have no role and could not return unless they publicly gave up their claims to govern. Their return under any situation in which the NLD were not free (unless they publicly recanted) is highly unlikely.

Another element of the diaspora, composed of an educated elite, probably would be split, with a small percentage returning but the bulk staying abroad for several reasons: there are few jobs in Myanmar, they may fear for themselves if the military still exerted major influence (which is more than likely), they have families abroad and often children in school, and they have become embedded in their local communities. They may be articulate about the problems and have ideas about solutions, but many would remain overseas. Those who did go back may not obtain the level of social recognition and positions of influence that they may expect and feel they deserve.

Unless a new government were to improve conditions in the minority regions and significant development were to take place along with peace, the perhaps two million workers in Thailand might be reluctant to return, as would the 150,000 or so Karen, Kayah, and Mon in UN-supervised refugee camps in Thailand along the Myanmar frontier. The United States in 2008 began to admit thousands of Karen from these camps (18,139 as of 2008), which have become a way station for emigration to the United States. In fact, because Burmese are prepared to work overseas to support their impoverished families at home, there may even be a further outpouring of laborers seeking even the most marginal of jobs in other countries. The world financial crisis of 2008–2009, however, may force economic migrants back and overseas remittances to diminish.

The prognosis for early socioeconomic progress in Myanmar is not sanguine, and that for politics is marginal. In spite of
tatmadaw
protestations to the contrary, there will be little incentive for it to significantly reform the basic economic and social ills to which the state is and will be heir. Inaction on reform in those sectors, however, is not simply maintaining the status quo. In effect, it is retrogression—delaying understanding the plight of its own people, the inevitable requirement to restructure the government’s priorities for the common good, and positively mobilizing the whole population in creating something that has been lacking: the ethos of a nation. The use of nationalism to mobilize the garrison state against mythic or perceived foreign enemies cannot replace a positive multiethnic message credible to the whole people.

Although the junta claims that political progress is now self-evident, having progressed through their roadmap toward “discipline-flourishing democracy,” this is only half accurate. The year 2010 will produce a new national parliament and a variety of regional and local ones. It is accurate to say that the people have some voice. But it is one that somewhat sotto voce, in contrast to that of the
tatmadaw
, which will still hold the prima donna role.

Each government in Burma has attempted to legitimate itself and mobilize the society toward its self-defined ends. It sought
internal legitimacy through Buddhism in the civilian period. To counter the divisive religious focus in minority circles, secular socialism became not only the ideological structure of the economy but also the basis of legitimacy. Since 1988, however, legitimacy has been centered on the military itself, and history has been rewritten and reinterpreted to confirm that end. The appeal, insofar as it succeeds, will probably positively affect only the present and future military, and not the population as a whole and especially not minority groups. The military’s stress on its own present and unique contribution will not create the cohesion toward which it claims it strives nor allow it to achieve its central goal—national unity. Indeed, there is inherent tension between the military’s conception of its role and the national unity it espouses.

In spite of its emphasis on the construction of infrastructure—which is of some present and potential importance but which has been both underreported and underappreciated in international circles—the administration has exhibited a lack of understanding of the critical social needs of the society and the malaise pervading the country. By concentrating on building, which it evidently believes gives the regime legitimacy, it has ignored the reasons for such construction—the early betterment of people’s lives.

The tragedies are multiple, and the political stasis with the opposition is only a part of them, but foreign observers concentrate on this aspect. The people, of course, suffer most, and among those most affected are the minorities, who have been subject to discrimination at best and exploitation and persecution in some areas. The vilification of the junta by foreign governments, groups, and media has increased the already heightened sense of insecurity, sometimes verging on panic, and resultant xenophobia among the
tatmadaw
leaders.

Many influential foreigners have argued that ending the political confrontation must precede any changes in the economic or social arenas. Of course, this view reflects that of the political opposition. Whether change must be sequential or in parallel is
an issue in many societies, and whether, for example, economic change might precede political development is, in part, an argument of the junta, which claims that economic progress under its leadership will allow political transformation over time through its imposed constitution with its elected legislatures.

Either approach would seem to be insufficient. Quick transformational political change is unlikely, and even economic evolution is glacial. Ideally, a conscious effort by all parties to recognize the limitations of their self-imposed concepts of power would seem to be the nexus of any real reformation. This is as unlikely as it is desirable. The attrition of traditional views of authority and their evolution into more consensus-building and modernized concepts will occur slowly and to the dissatisfaction of large numbers of Burmese who hope for more immediate and positive changes.

However understandable the high moral tone voiced by foreigners toward a repressive regime may be, this unending vituperative chorus has served to solidify the military leadership in a bunker-like mentality against foreigners, even those who simply wish to assist the impoverished. Even then, according to the authorities, they must have ulterior motives. As the junta has proclaimed, “Foreigners cannot love us.” This is a product not only of the colonial experience but also of neighbors who have conspired against the government and the antipathy continuously voiced against the regime.

The perpetuation of military control will result not only from the new constitution but also from the formation of a new class—the sons of the military who have and will join the
tatmadaw
and/or wield political and economic influence. Their access to the power and spoils of the system will limit the capacity of the civilian elite to attain positions of authority and access to the benefits of (eventual) economic development. There is, thus, likely to be restrictions on all forms of mobility under the projected system.

The near term will focus on the 2010 elections and their aftermath. Even before those elections, and even with U.S.
disapproval of the politics of Myanmar, the United States is considering signing the ASEAN Treaty of Amity and Cooperation, an act long overdue that has been a significant deterrent to effective U.S. policy throughout the region. The Obama administration will likely appoint someone to a new coordinating ambassadorial position to deal with U.S. policy toward Myanmar, but whether the direct talks stipulated in the legislation of 2008 will take place within Myanmar at an appropriately high level may well depend on the status of Aung San Suu Kyi and her release. The United Nations and the International Crisis Group have advocated restarting economic developmental assistance to reinvigorate its dialogue with Myanmar, but this will be resisted by the United States. The Burmese, in response to these efforts, may simply say that they are well along their own road toward “discipline-flourishing democracy,” which will be in place after the 2010 elections. The United States has already dismissed that argument. Improving relations may require acts of compromise by all parties—actions that are not immediately apparent.

The normal academic dualism describing countries as either weak or strong states does not seem applicable in the case of Myanmar. The state may be considered weak under normal criteria if its government cannot or will not deliver goods, services, and security to its people. Such a definition neglects the reality of the military presently as the national core, having controlled or eliminated any potentially contending institutions. Myanmar is a strong state in terms of its ability to mobilize coercive forces against any internal threat to its continuance, and in the absence of any significant alternative decision-making institutions. It has become an economically stronger state, although it has not used its new financial resources for the common good. It is, however, weaker in that its leadership seems overly fearful of foreign machinations, and because of that behaves as if it is under political, economic, and cultural siege internally and externally. This affects its capacity to respond to foreign criticisms with measured responses and
results in internal suppression of dissident views. It resorts instead to bluster and xenophobia. Both such fears are equally overstated, whether they are from minorities, the civilian sector, or abroad, all of which the government suspects. These emotional attitudes will not be easy to erase even with positive political change.

Paranoia does not necessarily invalidate existential fears. But the geopolitical situation would seem to preclude any external threats to the regime except the more subtle one brought about not by aggression or economics but by insidious globalization that could transform Burman culture over time. The junta charges that criticism of Myanmar is excessive, and that other Asian authoritarian states are less subject to the unending complaints even when their human rights abuses are more dire or their lack of democratic actions and institutions more widespread. Where are, the junta asks, the emasculated opposition political parties in China, Vietnam, and Laos? In part, this discrepancy is accurate, because of two factors: the lack of immediate and perceived geopolitical and economic interests on the part of the West in Myanmar, thus the focus on one strand in their foreign policy agenda—human rights—while ignoring others.

The second factor is the image of Aung San Suu Kyi. This personalization of international political concern has been, of course, central to the formulation of policy toward the regime itself. However much foreign policy is subject to or analyzed through academic disciplines indicating rational choice or other schools of international relations and political science theory, the emotional appeal of a brave woman standing up to oppression and sacrificing her family in the process is a critical factor in the reaction of the world to Myanmar and its government. She has become the avatar of democracy and morality, perhaps creating impossible expectations. The military in a sense has created the international aura surrounding Aung San Suu Kyi by its repression. The military leadership dismisses this effect and concentrates instead on what it perceives to be
her potential for disrupting the road to discipline-flourishing democracy through the 2010 elections and beyond, indicating an insular and imbalanced view of the state’s needs that compromise might have precluded. Her trial in the summer of 2009 regarding violating the conditions of her house arrest is an ineffective junta effort to stigmatize her.

The dilemma for all groups and minorities in Myanmar as the 2010 elections approach is whether they will legally contest at the polls. Although that election will intentionally invalidate the previous 1990 elections that were won by the National League for Democracy (NLD), a new government, even if controlled by the military, will have a significant element of civilian authority (within strictures), that could provide more internal openness and even more freedom of expression, although within the ubiquitous “subject to law” provisions of the constitution. We are likely to witness the gradual attrition of stringent controls unless insurrection is believed to be imminent. Whether any such gradual change will satisfy internal needs or external demands is questionable. Tensions will probably continue.