In Myanmar, students test the sincerity of democratic transition
Students demand change in Myanmar. Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.In Myanmar, as university students around
the world begin to exalt their summer freedom, a national student movement
continues to demand greater political freedom. At the end of May 2015 Myanmar’s
parliament was still discussing
proposed amendments to a National Education Law put forth by a coalition of
student groups. The students have expressed their concern over the lack of
academic freedom and the centralized control inherent in the law, which was
passed in September 2014. Since its adoption, students and other activists have
been campaigning around the country. In many ways, the struggle around
education reform can be seen as a prism through which to assess the sincerity
of democratic transition in Myanmar today.
It began in March 2014 with the release of
the draft law. Later, a national coalition of student groups issued an 11
point manifesto. They demanded, among other things, student representation
in enacting education legislation, teaching that ensures the freedom of
thought, multilingual education for ethnic minorities, inclusion of children
with disabilities, and the expansion of compulsory education from primary
school to middle school. In November 2014, students in Yangon, the capital, issued
a statement explaining
that if the government failed to negotiate within 60 days there would be nationwide
mobilization.
With little progress toward their demands, on
January 20, 2015, they held true to their word. Several hundred students from
Mandalay and elsewhere began marching the some 400 miles to the capital to demand
negotiation. Less than a week later the government agreed to hold four-party
talks. As a show of faith several of the groups marching on Yangon agreed
to halt their processions. However, after only a few days the talks stalled.
More than 250 civil society organizations pressed for their resumption and several
protests were staged around the capital in solidarity with the marching
students.
Sustained pressure appeared successful in
mid-February when government negotiators surprisingly agreed
to the students’ demands. A few days later a new version of the law was sent to
parliament for discussion.
Throughout the months of demonstrations
students overwhelmingly maintained nonviolent discipline with one noting: “we
don't have any weapons, not even a needle, so if there is a crackdown we will
just have to bow our heads and face it.”
A tradition
of student activism
Myanmar students protest. Thet Htoo/Demotix. All rights reserved.These students are following a long
tradition of student-led nonviolent civil resistance dating back to pre-independence
Myanmar. Not long after General
Ne Win’s March 1962 coup, students at Yangon University began demonstrating
against the military dictatorship and the sudden loss of academic freedom. In early
July that year, the military cracked down savagely, massacring between 100 and
1000 students and dynamiting the student union building, the epicentre of
student activism since the colonial period. There would be no student unions
again until 2010.
In 1974, following the death of U Thant, the United
Nations Secretary General from 1961 to 1971, the regime denied him a burial
with honours. Thousands of students and monks seized his body and marched to Yangon
University, where they buried him close to where the student union stood. The
armed forces soon drove tanks onto the university campus and exhumed his body.
Upwards of 4,500 students were arrested in the ensuing melee, and some 100 were
killed.
Student mobilization was salient in the
better-known 1988 pro-democracy movement from March to August. In Unarmed Insurrections, Kurt Schock calls
this period the “Rangoon Spring” — Rangoon is the former name for Yangon — in
reference to the 1968 Prague Spring, a brief period of political liberalization
in Czechoslovakia that ended with military intervention. Amnesty International
even established a short-lived office in Yangon at this time. But by September
the state responded with pure brutality. The military assumed control under General
Saw Maung and the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC). More than
3,000 were killed by the end of the month. Human Rights Watch's Asia Director,
Brad Adams, has called
the ongoing impunity for these mass killings an unaddressed wound challenging
the rhetoric of reform.
The inspiration and guidance of what became
known as the 88 Generation would inspire incremental episodes of resistance and
repression that followed. And in 2007, scattered demonstrations that began in
April spread around the country reaching around 100,000 demonstrators in Yangon
on September 24. This episode is known as the Saffron Revolution, in reference
to the overwhelming presence of bright orange and red-clad Buddhist monks among
the demonstrators. The spread of images, made possible by social media, of
police and military savagely beating monks contributed to the international
outcry and condemnation of the regime. In addition to monks, students made up
sizeable numbers, as new student organizations such as Generation
Wave, inspired by the 88 generation, began to organize and innovate
strategies of resistance.
The government
loses patience
Myanmar police stage crackdown. Thet Htoo/Demotix. All rights reserved.Despite a long tradition of student-organized
civil resistance, those who began in November 2014 exhibited a stark difference
with their predecessors. They were engaging in collective action in an
ostensibly democratizing Myanmar.
In November 2010 Myanmar held its first
general election since 1990, although they took place amid concerns of
intimidation and corruption, as well as laws that strongly favored the
military. International election monitors and foreign journalists were banned.
Anyone serving a prison sentence was barred from party membership, a
questionable regulation in light of the more than 2,000 political prisoners. In
April, Lieutenant General Thein Sein resigned from the military and formed the 'civilian' Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP), absorbing several
military organizations. USDP won vast Parliamentary representation. A week
later Aung San Suu Kyi was released from house arrest, although she is still
banned from running in the 2015 election. In the years following, Thein Sein released
hundreds of political prisoners and has presided over certain welcome
legislative reforms. In response, the United States and European Union have restored
diplomatic relations and lifted decades of economic sanctions.
In light of this narrative of political
liberalization, one would have hoped that the negotiation of a National
Education Law would comport with Thein Sein’s attempts to maintain legitimacy
by appearing more sympathetic to political reform. Unfortunately, after the
student’s preliminary successes at convincing the Parliament to review their
demands, the trajectory began to take a familiar arc.
In February 2015, even as positive
negotiations were under way in the capital, several hundred security personnel
were being deployed
along the route of those marching south from Mandalay. Kyaw Thet, a student from Pathein, about 60 miles from Yangon, told
The Irrawaddy: “if they shoot, we will be hit… We have no plans to back
down, but we want to say there is no benefit to anyone if violence is used
against students. If the government agrees to our demands, we will call off our
strike and go home.”
Despite the agreement at the four-party
talk, it soon became clear that the Parliament would not welcome student
representatives. A few days later the government warned
that action would be taken and Minister of Home Affairs Lieutenant General Ko
Ko cautioned the organizers that demonstrators would be considered a threat to
national stability. On February 16 two foreign freelance journalists were expelled
from the country for documenting protests. In early March, police in Letpadan,
about 85 miles from Yangon, surrounded the students marching from Mandalay. A
tense standoff ensued with students demanding to continue, and the police, who
outnumbered them 5 to 1, refusing to abandon their blockade. In Yangon, police
assaulted a small group of activists on March 5 who had gathered in solidarity
with those at Letpadan. Then, despite the authorities and students appearing
to have reached a consensus in Letpadan, violence
erupted on March 10.
In a move that was widely condemned
by human rights organizations and governments,
police and hired thugs, armed with truncheons and riot gear, mercilessly beat
back the some 200 assembled students. Some passed out and others were badly cut
from barbed wire or suffered broken bones, some were dragged into trucks, chased
into the fields, or later snatched
from their homes at night. The police also chased
away journalists from documenting the abuse but evidence quickly spread through
traditional and social media, such as the “We
Support Myanmar Students” Facebook page, which, at the time of writing, has
generated more than 25,000 likes. Soon afterwards, the Ministry of
Information claimed
to have arrested 127 people.
By truncheon
or by gavel, the law as a repressive tool
Myanmar students protest. Thet Htoo/Demotix. All rights reserved.The police violence at Letpadan, although
thankfully low in casualties, bears a striking similarity to the
state-sponsored violence of previous military governments. It is a disturbing
return to past tactics of repression, says
Human Rights Watch. But what seems equally, if not more troubling, is the instrumentalization
of domestic law as a repressive tactic. This is part of what Thomas Risse and
Kathryn Sikkink call a tactical concession. Repressive regimes will make
certain concessions such as signing international treaties, passing new
legislation, or releasing a few political prisoners. They do so to attempt to
gain a little standing in the international community, to get human rights
organizations off their backs, while not necessarily fully implementing such
reforms. What this often means is that repressive regimes favour political
crimes and show trials over mass killings or disappearances. It is a midpoint
between traditional state repression and rule-consistent behaviour.
Of the 127 people arrested over Letpadan some
70 were later charged, such as Po Po, who had evaded initial detention but was
rounded up in the weeks following. After the crackdown, the 20-year-old history
student Po
Po had gone home, where she was arrested on April 8 and brought to the
infamous Insein
Prison, while many others were held at Tharrawaddy Prison. Most of them
have been charged with violations of the Penal Code and Peaceful Assembly Law,
some facing the possibility of 10 years in prison. Enraged by the audacity of
the state, activists and students in 11 cities around the country carried out protests
in solidarity with the detained, prompting further arrests and charges of
violating the outdated Penal Code.
The previous UN Special Rapporteur on the Situation of Human Rights in Myanmar, Tomás Ojea Quintana, has called for the abolition or amendment
of the antiquated Penal Code, in many ways identical to when it was first
enacted in 1860, to ensure that it complies with international human rights
standards if there is to be a transition to democracy. Assessing Myanmar’s
transition should be based on far more than the upcoming election. As we move
closer to the November election we should remain cognizant of the growing
numbers of activists behind bars who have done nothing more than engage in
nonviolent civil resistance.
In testimony to premature talk of
transition, the number of political prisoners since Thein Sein’s much touted
amnesty at the end of 2013 has actually increased
by nearly 600 percent, according to some figures – the vast majority of whom
have been placed behind bars for their parts in various nonviolent campaigns,
for violations of the Penal Code and the 2011 Peaceful Assembly Law. This law requires,
in Article 18, that organizers obtain permission from township police chiefs
five days prior to any demonstration and for any slogans or signs they intend
to display. Each violation is prosecutable based on township, which means the
students marching from Mandalay could theoretically be charged with a violation
for each township they passed through without prior permission. As an indicator
of scale, there are 33 townships in Yangon alone. A coalition of more than 50
activists and civil society organizations have been campaigning for years
to amend Article 18. The group includes the 88 Generation Peace and Open
Society and Generation Wave.
“I would say that Article 18 is related to
everything, every issue. Because when people are repressed, while people’s
rights are violated, they must have the right to express themselves.” Over an
avocado smoothie at a roadside café in Yangon I speak with Moe Thway,
co-founder of Generation Wave, one of the more active student movements that
came out of the Saffron Revolution, about the detrimental impact of the
Peaceful Assembly Law. “My worry about Article 18 is the first rank. It is the
most important thing because it is the freedom of expression.”
The freedom of expression is a fundamental
right enshrined in Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights, which in Article 20 also recognizes the freedom of peaceful
assembly and association.
Reform
must come from below
Myanmar students protest. Thet Htoo/Demotix. All rights reserved.Students have been mobilizing around the
country, seizing the right of free, peaceful expression and assembly by
protesting, marching, sending open letters, engaging through social media, and
negotiating with the state. Those who have been beaten and detained are engaged
in active civil resistance to renegotiate the meaning of political
participation in a changing Myanmar. In many ways, it is about more than just
the National Education Law. In their expression of resentment toward the state,
and in the level of national coordination unachieved in decades, the
opportunity for civil society to influence social or political policy in
Myanmar is great, even in the face of Thein Sein’s demonstrably thin commitment
to democratization.
While much of the international attention
regarding democracy in Myanmar remains focused on the elections in 2015 or whether Aung San Suu Kyi will be allowed to serve as the next president, the real hope for transition in Myanmar arguably rests with the burgeoning civil society seizing every political opening to demand
accountability. The movement around the National Education Law has managed to
do what few in Myanmar have achieved since independence: to create a lasting national,
cohesive social movement united around a core set of grievances and demands. Students,
monks, and other civil resisters will continue to face repression from the
state. But Myanmar’s desire to reconnect to the world after more than two
decades of isolation also guarantees that the state will be forced to make increasing
tactical concessions, leaving further openings for civil resistance.