Don't Believe the Hype, All We Are Seeing Is the Illusion of Change

Global Asia

THE NOV. 7 ELECTION in Burma and the subsequent release of pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi have led to wild speculation about the future of this troubled nation. Has change, at long last, come to Burma?

Unfortunately, there are few sober assessments of the current situation — apart from what ordinary Burmese say — and there is little hope for change. Despite all the hype, the situation inside the country remains depressingly the same. Most commentaries by outside observers tend to be seriously flawed by wishful thinking, skewed analysis, self-interest, and, in many cases, a large dose of naiveté.

Derek Tonkin, a former British ambassador to Thailand, suggested in his own newsletter that "the elections, flawed as they are, could provide a catalyst." For exactly what, however, is not entirely clear. Greg Sheridan, the foreign editor of The Australian newspaper, wrote that "the international community must gently coax the regime towards democracy." Suu Kyi, he opines, may have been released because the Burmese military is "seeking greater international space and some easing of sanctions." Priscilla Clapp, a senior American analyst and former diplomat associated with the Asia Society, seems convinced that a recent military reshuffle, in which more than 70 senior officers and many junior ones retired from active service in order to run for election, paves the way for a new, presumably more reform-minded generation of army commanders to take over. Thus, change must be in the air.

Certain Indian think-tankers go out of their way to try to convince the outside world that the Burmese junta, after all, isn't that bad and deserves more understanding and sympathy. Brahma Chellaney of the New Delhi-based Center for Policy Research, writing in the International Herald Tribune, suggested that as a result of "generational change, the revived political process has created new space for the democracy movement, as symbolized by Aung San Suu Kyi's release." But a deep-rooted fear of India's arch-enemy China shines through in many Indian commentaries; it would be more honest to say they don't care what kind of regime is in Burma as long as it is not too close to Beijing.

With all these airy-fairy views dominating the debate, it is more important than ever to understand what is really happening in Burma today and how change will and will not come about. First of all, there is little doubt that the Nov. 7 elections were not only flawed, but also rigged and thoroughly fraudulent. Even the regime's own announcements show this clearly. On Nov. 16, the state-run media had to correct a previous report that stated 102.9 percent of a constituency in Pegu Division north of the old capital Rangoon had turned out to vote. The correct figure, the announcement said, should have been 99.57 percent. In Ann township in western Rakhine State, 104.28 percent of the electorate were said to have voted. That was later adjusted to 71.74 percent. The Chiang Mai-based news magazine Irrawaddy, which is run by Burmese exiles, quoted a Rangoon businessman as saying that the military's Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP) "won in two constituencies where the elections had been cancelled in Kachin State: the USDP not only won across the country but also in areas where the elections were not held."

A well-placed source in Rangoon said he and many of his friends had voted for one of the pro-democracy parties that took part in the election and its win in their township was confirmed when the local votes were counted. But then, a number of "advance votes" were dumped into this constituency, reversing the initial result. Similar cases of obvious fraud have been reported all over the country.

But, the optimists argue, there will be at least some opposition voices in the new national assembly, not as many as expected, but at least a few. And that is something entirely new in Burma. However, this argument fails to take into account that Burma for more than a decade had a "Constituent Assembly" charged with drafting a new constitution, under which the recent election was held. But discussions were not allowed and those who expressed dissenting views, among them the Shan representative Khun Htun Oo, ended up in prison. He received a 93-year sentence for high treason, defamation and four related charges.

Looking back at recent Burmese history, the military has a track record of crushing any dissent. 

It suppressed and contained a massive, nation-wide uprising in 1988; it effectively ignored the landslide victory of the main pro-democracy party in a general election for a national assembly in 1990, by simply never convening the assembly; it succeeded in suppressing several outbreaks of political unrest throughout the 1990s; and, most recently, it violently put down marches for change by tens of thousands of Buddhist monks in late 2007. Surely, controlling a handful of potential troublemakers in national and regional assemblies would not be a problem.

We have to understand that the recent election and Suu Kyi's release were not the beginning of the end of repression, or the first, tangible step toward national reconciliation. It was not Burma's "Mandela moment," as suggested by some observers. Nelson Mandela's release from prison in 1990 came as part of a political reform process that began when he first met representatives of South Africa's apartheid regime in 1985. After his release, the dialogue continued until general elections could be held in 1994 and Mandela became South Africa's first majority-supported president. There is no similar process in Burma. The military has consistently refused to engage in any meaningful dialogue with the opposition. Over the years, a few highly publicized meetings often involving visiting foreign dignitaries have taken place between Suu Kyi and some of the country's generals. But those have been for public relations purposes only, and so was her release on Nov. 13.

Judging from many positive commentaries in the foreign media, it seems that the ruse has worked, at least for now. Many Burmese I know did not go to Suu Kyi's rallies because they were afraid of being photographed by the secret police and later arrested. This is exactly what happened at the end of 2007, when the government did not interfere with the monks' protests for several weeks. This gave the authorities time to see how many people would participate in the demonstrations — and to photograph activists. After the crackdown, military intelligence officers equipped with bundles of photographs went from house to house in Rangoon, looking for, and arresting, numerous "suspects." Suu Kyi's release serves a similar purpose: to ascertain the degree of popular support she still has, and, if the crowds become too large, to launch yet another crackdown. Significantly, staff and even patients at an HIV-AIDS center in Rangoon were told they had to vacate their premises after a visit by Suu Kyi. 

According to the clinic manager, quoted by the BBC, "so many people came to support her and the patients. This could be the main reason they are worried about." If the crowds get even bigger, Suu Kyi would most likely be detained yet again, as she has been on three previous occasions. There is no reason to believe it would be different this time.

It is essential to remember that Burma is no "ordinary" military dictatorship. Between 1962 and 1974, there were 64 military takeovers in the world. Only two of those remain in power today: Libya, where Col. Muammar Gaddafi seized power in 1969, and Burma, where the military overthrew the democratically elected government of U Nu in 1962. 

The recent election will only produce yet another military government under a different guise, which has also happened before. In 1962, a Revolutionary Council seized power, organized a "referendum" on a new constitution in 1973, then in 1974 the military-controlled Burma Socialist Programme Party formed a "civilian" government made up of "retired army officers." A few opposition voices in the new national assembly will not be able to make any difference, or seriously challenge Burma's well-established order. Burma's ruling military cannot, and will not, make any significant concessions to the political and ethnic opposition because that would mean changing the 2008 constitution, which was approved by an amazing 92.4 per cent of the electorate, and nullifying the Nov. 7 elections.

And let's face it: Burma has no new generation of reform-minded "young Turks" lurking in the wings. Whether officers are in uniform or out made no difference in 1974 and it doesn't today. Moreover, low- and middle-ranking officers remain immensely loyal to the leadership, knowing they can only rise to prominent and privileged positions by showing that they are even more hard-line than their superiors. This loyalty, combined with strict surveillance of the officer corps (monitoring the ranks for any signs of dissent is more important for the country's secret services than keeping unruly civilian dissidents under control), has been the key to the survival of successive military regimes since 1962.

None of the new officers who replaced the 70 who "retired" in August is known to harbor more liberal ideas than the Old Guard. People in the "new" line-up will most likely include the head of the USDP, the now "retired" Gen. Thein Sein, who also is the current prime minister, and the powerful former No. 3 in the military hierarchy, Gen. Thura Shwe Mann, whose new post is yet to be decided but who may be the next prime minister.

The strongman, Gen. Than Shwe, who has not retired, will likely linger in the shadows for the foreseeable future. He clearly wants to avoid the fate that befell the old strongman Ne Win and his family in the wake of political upheavals in the late 1980s and early 1990s, when they were arrested and imprisoned for attempting to stage a coup. Than Shwe may even become president when the new government is assembled, and all newly promoted officers are known to be Than Shwe loyalists. 

Among them are Lt.-Gen. Myint Aung (former Adjutant General) and Lt-Gen Ko Ko (former chief of the Bureau of Special Operations-3) who are tipped as successors to the two top posts in the military; and, more importantly, Lt-Gen. Min Aung Hlaing (former head of the Bureau of Special Operations-2), who has replaced Shwe Mann as joint-chief of staff of the three services. Min Aung Hlaing has been seen accompanying Than Shwe on tours around the country and on state visits to India, China and Laos.

As for engagement with Burma, it is remarkable to say the least that some Western pundits now seem to believe that the best way forward is to adopt the failed policies of Burma's neighbors in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations. 

ASEAN's more than 20 years of "constructive engagement" have produced nothing. Foreigners have always grossly overestimated their own importance to the Burmese leadership, whether they are talking about sanctions or engagement. The Burmese generals listen only to themselves and not to sweet-talking foreigners. A few Australians or others attempting to "gently coax" them into changing their ways are likely to be laughed at by the generals, who consider such outside interference as patronizing and colonial.

So how will Burma change, because change is bound to come sooner or later, even to this country? Some people suggest that the new "hip-hop" crazed generation of young Burmese symbolizes something entirely new, and that changing lifestyles will eventually lead to something more substantial. But James Dean-style "rebels without a cause" always grow up and forget their youthful extravagancies.

 Then there is the suggestion that private business may serve as a catalyst for change. True, any successful businessman in Burma today needs a military partner, benefactor and protector, and it is the businessman, not the officer, who sits on the purse. The officer will then become dependent on his business partner, and the proliferation of such mutually beneficial marriages of convenience would make the old monolith wither away and, eventually, result in a more pluralistic society. This is quite a likely scenario, but private entrepreneurs are not known to be ardent advocates of democracy and what that entails in the form of a free press, transparency and accountability.

History has shown that authoritarian governments do not negotiate their own demise through some kind of "dialogue" or "engagement." They crumble only when someone inside the establishment refuses to carry out certain orders. In the Philippines, the dictator Ferdinand Marcos's fate was sealed when, in early 1986, then defense minister Juan Ponce Enrile and Gen. Fidel Ramos, then head of the Philippine Constabulary, broke ranks with the government in the face of popular protests against the old order. Similarly in Indonesia in May 1998, troops refused to storm the parliament buildings in Jakarta that had been occupied by pro-democracy students and other activists. The withdrawal of troops from the parliament marked the beginning of the end of the Suharto regime. A transitional period followed, which eventually led to the establishment of a functioning democracy in Indonesia.

In the case of South Korea, defectors from inside the government also catalyzed the transition to democracy. In 1979 the powerful intelligence chief Kim Jae-gyu assassinated then President Park Chung-hee, for which he was in turn executed in 1980. The South Korean government spent several years trying to suppress the country's pro-democracy movement, culminating in a massacre in Gwangju city in May 1980. In the end, South Korea became a thriving democracy following massive street protests in 1987, but it was the assassination of President Park that marked the beginning of the end of the old regime.

In Taiwan, democracy came after years of anti-government street demonstrations throughout the 1980s. The final transition to democracy was comparatively smooth. But Taiwan is unique: It has to survive in the shadow of China, and being a democracy is a strong card to play in international diplomacy.

The only Asian country where authoritarianism has been replaced by democracy through dialogue and elections is the Maldives — but that is a very special case. In October 2008, President Maumoon Abdul Gayoom lost the election and handed power over to Mohammed Hasheed, a pro-democracy activist and former political prisoner. But the Maldives is a small country of just 300,000 inhabitants, and the economy is heavily dependent on tourism, and, by extension, the country's international reputation.

There is precious little Suu Kyi can do in today's Burma, where the grip on the nation by a powerful and well-equipped military is stronger than ever, and outside support for her cause makes little difference. Her opposition movement remains weak and factionalized. It is not the African National Congress that was able to continue the struggle even when Mandela was in prison. Because the recent election has institutionalized the present order and nothing else, yet another round of rallies and street protests will have little impact on the way the country is governed.

As in other countries in Asia, change will come when someone within the ruling elite turns against the top leadership. But for now, there are no signs of such discontent within Burma's military establishment. Still, the country's only hope for the future is that some officers, young or old, will some day change their minds. The bitter reality is that until and unless that happens, nothing is likely to change.

Bertil Lintner is a former correspondent with the Far Eastern Economic Review and currently a writer with Asia Pacific Media Services. He is the author of seven books on Burma. His website, www.asiapacificms.com, contains links to his most recent articles on Burma and the region.