From Inside
And Out
LIFE UNDER MILITARY
RULE
Family vs. Morality
Under military rule in Burma, it seems that doing what is right is often directly
opposed to doing what is necessary to survive. Carrying out orders with which
one does not agree and engaging in corruption have become prevalent in a society
where there are few jobs outside the military and the civil service. To be honest
can mean not being able to take care of one's family. Thus, stealing government
goods and taking bribes have become routine activities, while challenging or
refusing orders is rarely attempted. During the period of General Ne Win's rule,
from 1962-1988, all industries, schools, hospitals, and newspapers were nationalized,
making government jobs virtually the only alternative to farming. Although civil
servants earned low wages, they had access to government-subsidized goods and
a guarantee of life-time employment as long as they continued to demonstrate
loyalty to the regime. Since the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC)
took power in September 1988, private businesses have been allowed, but relatively
few people have moved into the private sector because of high inflation, a weak
economy, and difficulties competing with those who have connections to high-ranking
military officers. Thus, many Burmese still consider obtaining a job in the
military or the civil service as their safest option. The salary hikes for government
employees in April 2000 are an added inducement, although with an inflation
rate of 40%, the value of the pay raises is being quickly eroded. While the
regime most likely kept salaries low throughout the 1990s because it lacked
sufficient cash and saw military disbursements as a far greater priority, the
junta reaped other benefits. People were so busy hustling to survive that they
did not have time for politics. Equally important, because so many soldiers
and civil servants engaged in corruption, they were also implicated in the evil
that the system produced.
Under military rule, the whole notion of legality has been turned upside down.
Many normal activities under other forms of government, such as free speech
and the unrestricted purchase of fax machines and modems, are treated as illegal.
Other activities, like stealing gasoline from government warehouses to sell
on the streets or demanding cash for proper nursing care in hospitals, are openly
tolerated. With corruption having become so pervasive, those who insist on acting
in an upright fashion are sometimes criticized by friends and relatives as foolish.
For instance, in some schools, bribing teachers to raise high school matriculation
scores has become normal. Parents who refuse to pay off teachers could be endangering
their children's chances of obtaining a higher education. Parents continue to
encourage their children to pursue careers in the military or the civil service
so that they will have a guaranteed job and access to subsidized food. Although
most of these parents have suffered economically under military rule and are
tired of living in fear, they push their children to become a part of the system
because they perceive military dominance as continuing indefinitely. As the
military's influence has seeped into virtually every aspect of people's lives,
resistance becomes difficult to imagine. Those who do resist and are caught,
as so many inevitably are, find that their punishment extends far beyond their
jail term. "Crimes" such as helping to organize a student protest or distributing
opposition literature can result in jail sentences of up to twenty years. Once
political prisoners are released, they cannot obtain a job in the civil service,
they are kept under surveillance, and they are in constant danger of re-arrest
whenever there is political activity in their neighborhood. Even finding a marriage
partner becomes complicated, as parents worry that former political activists
will bring nothing but trouble to their families. To protect their children
from such a bleak future, many parents try to insulate them from political realities
and urge them to conform with military rule. Families might dislike censorship,
demands for forced labor and forced donations, and the authorities' often rough
treatment of civilians, but these problems are accepted as routine. While parents
might reminisce about the past when their salaries went further and their lives
were freer, they do not link their complaints to a political program of action.
Only a few politically-committed parents try to raise their children to understand
what is wrong with military rule. But even these parents find that at one point
or another, their children are attracted to the military and other state-controlled
organizations.
Than Dai, for instance, was raised to hate the military regime. His father,
who had been imprisoned for involvement in a student protest in the 1960s, refused
to allow his children to attend any state-sponsored celebrations or to participate
in any government-organized labor projects. Many of the visitors at Than Dai's
house were former political prisoners who discussed banned books and criticized
the government. But when one of Than Dai's brothers finished high school, the
boy told his father that he wanted to enter the military academy like his friends.
This was not only because of the material benefits which officers generally
acquire, but also because in school he had been taught that military men were
heroes. According to the textbooks, the Tatmadaw (armed forces) had brought
about Burma's independence and valiantly fought against communist and ethnic
traitors bent on destroying the union. Even though Than Dai's brother had been
raised in a dissident family, he was strongly influenced by his schooling and
peer pressure. Burmese families place tremendous value on education, but most
parents have done little to make up for the regime's silence on much of the
country's recent history. In some cases this is because they do not feel qualified
to teach their children about politics and history. In other cases, it is because
they are worried that such knowledge will lead their children to participate
in dangerous political activities. As a result, very few children are informed
by their parents about the positive aspects of democratic life in the 1950s
or about the protests against military rule that have occurred over the years.
Some parents even discourage their children from reading, for fear this will
arouse an interest in politics.
With a long-stagnant economy and no social security system, many older children
must help pay for their younger siblings' education and provide financial support
for their aging parents. If the children are in and out of jail and unable to
get jobs because of their political activities, how can they provide for their
families? Many parents believe that it is better if their children ignore politics
and focus instead on earning a living and enjoying their time with family and
friends. Children do eventually learn about the abusive nature of the regime
through their own personal experiences. In rural areas, where the military's
presence is more pervasive, such knowledge comes early. In the cities, children
grow up more insulated. Still, high school and university students often find
out about the regime's history of repression through underground literature
surreptitiously distributed in schools, teashops, and public bathrooms. In this
way they also discover other heroes; namely, students and monks who led resistance
protests against military rule. Once their eyes have been opened, many students
feel driven by a desire to do something to bring about a political change. But
the demands of the family and the democracy movement pull them in opposite directions.
Some choose to refrain from political activities so they can take care of their
families, while others decide that they must work for their country despite
their families' objections. Many activists find wrestling with these tensions
extremely painful. Shifting Attitudes Between 1962 and early 1988, rare were
the parents who supported their children's anti-government activities. But when
pro-democracy demonstrations broke out all over the country in August 1988 and
the government seemingly collapsed, ideas about activists changed. More and
more of the parents who had raised their sons and daughters to go along with
the system came out on the streets with their children. A number of families,
however, found themselves divided, with some members taking part in the demonstrations
and others gunning the participants down. Older siblings, who had gone into
the military and regularly sent money home to their families, became pariahs.
Younger siblings, who had looked up to their older brothers with admiration,
now viewed them with repugnance.
For instance, Zaw Lwin, a university student in 1988, had a cousin who was a
military officer. He himself intended to enter the military until the 1988 demonstrations
broke out. Zaw Lwin joined student activists on the streets, while his aunt
told her son that if he shot any students, he should not come back home. Zaw
Lwin said that his cousin was so upset by his aunt's words that he cried. He
had a university education and knew what was right and wrong, but he was thinking
of his family's survival. He was already married and could not afford to do
anything that might cost him his job. Later that year, Zaw Lwin ran into this
cousin at a large event at Daw Aung San Suu Kyi's compound. He was shocked to
see his cousin in plain clothes, wearing a National League for Democracy (NLD)
pin and pretending to be an NLD sympathizer. When he returned home, Zaw Lwin
informed his family about the incident, increasing his relatives' disdain for
the once-respected cousin. But after the military refused to transfer power
after the 1990 election, parents' attitudes toward their children changed again.
The Tatmadaw's honor had been tarnished by the killing of unarmed civilians,
but parents again began thinking that only military officers would have a guaranteed
good life. Sons were once more encouraged to join the army. Students who continued
to be involved in politics were often denounced by their relatives, who feared
that they too would come under suspicion. The regime often punishes whole families
for the actions of one member.
For instance, the auth-orities might transfer a parent in the civil service
to a remote post, harass or close down family members' businesses, or even arrest
other family members. In a few cases, parents have felt compelled to take the
drastic step of disowning their politically-active children in a newspaper announcement
to protect the family from government persecution. The fact that parents try
to stop their children from engaging in political activities assists the regime
in maintaining its control. Even though the parents themselves may be against
military rule, they still shout out pro-regime slogans at government rallies
in order to keep their jobs and obtain promotions. The regime is surely aware
that it has little genuine support, but to a certain extent, it doesn't matter
as long as people are acting in a way which perpetuates military rule. I say
this not to criticize families trying their best to survive in extremely difficult
circumstances but to demonstrate how military rule becomes self-sustaining even
when most citizens are opposed to it. The collective effect of almost every
family trying to protect itself is that challenges to military rule are generally
not promoted or valorized, except in rare situations like 1988, when it looks
like real change is imminent. Living in Silence Community life has also been
warped by military rule. Although it may not be true, it is commonly believed
that in urban areas there is one informer for every ten houses. Thus, people
do not trust each other and cannot converse freely, even in their own neighborhoods.
As one writer put it, "We have no mouths, only ears." So many people in Burma
talk of living in silence and speaking in whispers. Some Burmese activists have
argued that the military is habituating people into silently obeying as part
of a strategy of disempowerment. As one labor organizer with experience in rural
areas put it, "When a man in an army uniform stands in front of your house and
says you have to pay this amount of money, the house-owner has no thought of
complaining or asking, 'For what?' He just gives it." Similarly, businessmen
in Rangoon and Mandalay have no choice but to buy tickets for military-sponsored
functions or make donations to military-sponsored charities, because if they
do not, they will find their business activities hindered in all kinds of ways.
If independent organizations were allowed, people could band together to protest
unreasonable demands. But they are not, so people feel isolated and weak. Even
Buddhist abbots can do nothing for their followers. Villagers tell the monks
their troubles in order to be comforted, not because they think the monks can
intercede on their behalf.
Raymond Tint Way, a Burmese psychiatrist who now lives abroad, put it in psychological
terms. "People have regressed under military rule. They have become more dependent.
They have had to endure so much hardship that they have become 'immunized' to
it. They can handle and cope with it. There are positive and negative consequences:
they survive, but they don't overthrow the regime. They see no point in resisting."
Social Disintegration From 1962 until 1988, the Ne Win regime did almost nothing
to upgrade the country's transportation and communication infrastructure. Since
the SLORC took power in 1988, the military regime has launched infrastructure
development projects throughout the country. In the cities, such work is done
with motorized equipment and paid laborers, but in the rural areas, many of
the railroad extension projects, roads, dams, and irrigation works have been
constructed with forced labor. New battalion bases have also been built, requiring
a steady supply of forced labor for maintenance and the transport of supplies.
Although travel has become easier in many areas, the burden on communities has
been heavy. Having to do regular stints of forced labor makes it difficult for
family members to get their own work done. Those who have enough money can pay
a bribe instead, but few can continue to pay indefinitely. Intra-community tensions
in rural areas are also exacerbated by the regime's demands. The village headman
has to determine who will go for the work projects and how much each household
will pay when fees are exacted. With several hundred thousand Burmese called
for forced labor on any given day, distributing these burdens fairly is no easy
task, and conflicts are inevitable. Because villagers feel that resisting the
soldiers' demands is dangerous and futile, they have focused on finding ways
to meet the demands and still survive. Able-bodied villagers have migrated abroad
to earn money which is sent home to pay off the authorities. In numerous villages
and towns within striking distance of the Thai and Indian borders, only old
people and small children remain. Yet, by continuing to send money home, villagers
enable the system of extortion to continue. Social life has also been affected
by the regime's decree that all overnight guests, including visiting family
members, must be reported to the ward office. Failure to do so can result in
a fine or even detention. In the Thai-Burma border area, when soldiers want
porters for their operations, they take the registered guests, many of whom
are traders staying with friends. Because they are far from home, it is difficult
for such guests to escape arrest, let alone get word back to their families
of their fate. As one person who was taken in this way, but later managed to
bribe his way out, explained, "If the soldiers say, 'Let's go,' they have to
go along. If they don't come back, you'll just have to assume that they are
dead."
In the border areas in particular, where ethnic armies have continued to fight
against the Tatmadaw troops, community life has been profoundly disrupted.
The Tatmadaw has overseen large-scale forced relocation operations, involving
over 300,000 people in the Shan State and tens of thousands in Karen and Karenni
States in the past four years. Villagers trying to return to their old village
sites have been shot on sight. Many others have lost their limbs or their lives
to landmines laid by the warring armies, often when being forced to walk in
front of Tatmadaw troops as human mine sweepers. Besides the physical
dismemberment of individuals and communities that has resulted from the civil
war, the military has left a legacy of increased racial hatred. Many ethnic
villagers living in remote areas have had virtually no contact with Burmese
people except Tatmadaw soldiers. As a result, some do not distinguish
between soldiers and civilians but see all Burmese people as the enemy. In Shan
State, the Tatmadaw has been allowing Chinese and Burmese settlers to
move into depopulated areas, altering the racial balance and presumably diluting
the political power of the ethnic minorities in the future. The Tatmadaw
is our Mother As authoritarian rule has continued, the military has increasingly
come to see itself as above the rest of society. Many army officers apparently
believe that because of the sacrifices they are making on behalf of the country,
they have earned a place of esteem equivalent to the traditional five categories
deserving respect; namely, the Buddha, Buddhist doctrine, monks, parents, and
teachers. And by pointing their guns, they can get whatever they want. The transformation
of Burmese society into the military as order-givers and the people as obeyers
is reflected in the distortion of an old military slogan. In the 1940s, General
Aung San and the military leaders of the day promoted the slogan, "The people
are our mother, the people are our father." Under military rule, this has been
changed to "The Tatmadaw is our mother, the Tatmadaw is our father."
Because the army has insisted that it is safeguarding Burmese society and traditions,
some Burmese feel confused about what is good or bad in their culture. They
are repelled by the regime, yet the regime is always stressing the importance
of maintaining Burmese culture. They believe in the goodness of Burmese traditions,
such as hospitality, tolerance, and a respect for elders, and yet the entire
culture seems to have been tainted by the abuse of authority and the futility
of acting honestly. Eradicating the mistrust, corruption, and bitterness that
haunt Burmese society today will be one of Burma's greatest challenges in the
years ahead. Christina Fink is an anthropologist who has lived and worked in
Asia. This article is drawn from her forthcoming book: Living Silence: Burma
Under Military Rule.