Memories of 8.8.88 (original) (raw)
A journalist recalls clandestine visits to Burma to report the country�s story to the world, in an historic period of upheaval
WORD reached Bangkok in late August 1987 that the Burmese economy was grinding to a standstill, and that the rice harvest could be compromised by weak rainfalls in some areas. As a reporter who liked to operate alone, I was assigned by Asiaweek, the Hong Kong-based newsweekly, to slip into the country. I would get no byline, no credit, not much pay, but a lot of satisfaction.
It was a memorable week. I made it up to Mandalay on my own, just in time for what some believed was the heaviest rainfall since the end of World War II. These things are hard to gauge, of course, but there was no mistaking the joy the people felt at the suddenly rain-swollen paddy fields. I returned to Rangoon and the care of my wonderful Burmese translator and fixer.
A wounded demonstrator receives treatment at Rangoon General Hospital in 1988. |
He graciously introduced me to his family, fed me in his home, took me everywhere, persuaded an unwitting former minister of education to buy me a beer and even smuggled me to the ancient capital of Pegu for an audience with His Holiness Eindhasara, or Sayadawgyi, as he was addressed with both affection and respect.
At 91, as head of the Sangha Maha Nayaka Committee, he was the most senior monk in the land and had been abbot of the same temple since 1941. He had never met a foreign journalist before, but even so, for him the encounter was a minor curiosity. For me it was an unexpected honor�a kind of benediction.
My fixer�s father suddenly took ill. He was reduced to chasing around Rangoon in a desperate search for medicine that could only be found on the black market, if at all. I had already witnessed scuffles that week near a train that was carrying rice into the countryside. When I returned to Bangkok, I knew that even with a few beneficent cloud bursts, times were tougher than ever for ordinary Burmese people and something was brewing behind the scenes.
As it turned out, I had missed one of the country�s biggest stories in decades by one day. Student-led demonstrations unexpectedly broke out on September 5 when the government demonetized large denomination bank notes without warning. There was no hint of the demonetization from anyone during my week inside the country. It was nothing more than state-sanctioned theft. Many people lost their meager savings in one swift stroke.
In the intervening 20 years, the authorities seem to have learned almost nothing about public relations and financial management. In August 2007�again without warning�they suddenly laid down huge increases in diesel and petrol prices, driving the long-suffering populace to the edge once more. There were massive demonstrations again, spearheaded by columns of monks, particularly in Rangoon where up to 100,000 people took to the streets.
Back in 1988, the pressure for much larger nationwide demonstrations had been building through a succession of incidents in Rangoon teashops and outlying areas. Stoking the popular discontent among even the most tolerant of people was a growing realization: Breathtaking economic mismanagement during General Ne Win�s years following the 1962 coup had reduced a fundamentally wealthy nation to pauper status. The UN had classified Burma as a least developed country. Aung Gyi, a disillusioned former member of General Ne Win�s Revolutionary Council, added to the discontent through a series of public, widely disseminated, critical letters.
Average people yearned for democracy, freedom and the other benefits of more politically advanced countries. But first they wanted to eat and dress better, to educate their children, read newspapers, travel, look after their sick and put a proper roof over their heads. In 1988, the demands were uncomplicated and entirely reasonable. Yet in 2008, they still remain unmet.
By July 1988, the discontent was starting to boil over. There was no question that major demonstrations would erupt. Towards the end of the month, Ne Win finally resigned as chairman of the inept Burma Socialist Programme Party. His strange parting words were a call for multi-party democracy followed with a dire warning that the Burmese Army would never hesitate to shoot demonstrators. Ne Win was always bigger on sticks than carrots.