Yawn of a new day

Burma is on the threshold of its most important political event in two decades, but public indifference is palpable.

Neil Lawrence

THE sidewalks of downtown Rangoon look, as they have for as long as anybody can remember, as if they've just been struck by an earthquake. Slabs of concrete, broken into jagged pieces, jut out at all angles, in places exposing holes large enough for a grown man to fall into.

But the sad state of Rangoon's pavement, and of the city as a whole, is more a result of the grinding forces of time and neglect than of an episode of seismic upheaval. Likewise, Burma's political landscape has been shaped less by eruptions of popular unrest than by a decades-old war of attrition that now appears to be close to achieving its goal of crushing any remaining hope for real change.

That, at any rate, is the impression one gets as the country moves towards its first election in 20 years. Grim resignation, rather than great expectations, is the order of the day, as the ruling regime does everything in its power to quash any attempt to turn the election into a meaningful expression of Burma's long-suppressed democratic aspirations.

'We don't care about the election. Nobody cares. The government will win, and that's it,' was one local resident's view, echoing an oft-repeated sentiment.

But while voter apathy appears to be the least of the junta's worries as it prepares to bulldoze its way to electoral victory on 7 November, it does seem sensitive to any publicising of this fact. According to the editor of one of Rangoon's two dozen or so weekly news journals, the regime's censors recently banned an opinion poll by another publication that showed more than 80% of eligible voters had no interest in the election.

In its obsessive desire to control the message, the editor said, the junta has even prevented the country's media from reporting on relatively positive aspects of the upcoming election, such as the decision to allow local vote-counting, which will provide some measure of transparency.

'Basically, we've been told not to comment on or explain laws or announcements about the election - we're just supposed to publish them as they are,' he said.

While most local media struggle to find ways to keep people informed, however, some outlets seem happy to play the regime's game of creating the impression of openness while leaving essential facts unreported.

On the front page of its 3-8 August issue, for instance, The Myanmar Times reported that the Election Commission (EC) had approved an ethnic Kachin party led by pro-regime businessman Khat Htain Nan. What it did not mention, however, was that another Kachin party formed much earlier by former leaders of the Kachin Independence Organisation had not been given a green light to contest the election, for reasons the EC has not deigned to provide.

'We need to generate interest in politics by raising awareness and spreading political knowledge,' the newspaper quotes Khat Htain Nan, the chairman of the Unity and Democracy Party of Kachin State, as saying. He added that he would consider forming an alliance 'with any kind of party' - as long as it is backed by the regime.

It's the economy, stupid

If the election has brought even a slight glimmer of hope, it is chiefly in relation to the country's economic prospects. Although it is far from clear how the transition to ostensibly civilian rule will affect economic policy, recent moves towards privatisation -seen by most analysts as part of an effort to lock in the ruling elite's control of key resources - have been welcomed by some as a sign that the regime may be ready to change the way it does business.

One taxi driver said that newly privatised gas stations, whose sales are not subject to rationing (the bane of his occupation since the era of socialist rule), have made his life somewhat easier. But, he added, it was anybody's guess when the government would lower its ludicrously high duties on imported used cars, which put a price tag of $20,000 on the decrepit 26-year-old Toyota Corolla that he now drives for a living.

But the most significant economic implication of a return to parliamentary rule could be that, for the first time in 22 years, Burma's national budget will no longer be managed entirely at the whim of the military.

Although it is unlikely that parties not loyal to the current rulers will have much say over how the country's wealth is spent, they may at least be in a position to call for a clear accounting of how much money the country brings in from the sale of its resources, according to one close observer of the Burmese economy based in Rangoon.

'This transparency alone will have an impact on the economy,' he said.

How much of an impact it will have depends on a number of factors, he said, not least of which is whether the post-election government will close the vast gap between the official and black market exchange rates - 6.7 kyat and 1,000 kyat to the US dollar, respectively - which the current regime uses to underreport earnings from exports of natural gas and other resources to neighbouring countries.

He suggested that recent moves to allow foreign investment in agriculture could also bring benefits, although this, too, depends largely upon how the newly installed government manages outside involvement in this key sector of the economy.

Foreign capital could do wonders for this chronically credit-starved sector, which supports more of the country's population than any other. But it will not necessarily make life any easier for farmers, who could actually lose what little they now have if the new government merely follows in the business footsteps of its predecessors. It remains to be seen if the country's new political class will end the military regime's practice of making win-win deals with foreign investors that typically make losers of everyone else.

'Under the new Constitution, all land remains the property of the state. So if investors start buying land, farmers could be displaced,' said the economic observer, speaking on condition of anonymity.

Meanwhile, the limits of what foreign aid can do to mitigate the effects of economic mismanagement and natural disasters were on full display in Dalla, a township just a short ferry ride from downtown Rangoon.

Two years after Cyclone Nargis, this gateway to the Irrawaddy delta has returned to 'normal' - a state more akin to a refugee camp than to a suburb of Burma's main commercial centre. A local resident pointed out bamboo huts that had been built by a French NGO as part of the Nargis relief effort. Asked why the foreign aid agency didn't 'build back better', to use the slogan of the international aid community, he replied that the government had 'interfered' with their efforts.

Asked if he thought the next government would be any more cooperative, he said: 'I don't think so.'

Revolution in a rut

Conspicuously absent from most people's reactions to the upcoming election is any sense of outrage at its blatant unfairness. This is not too surprising, given the general 'get it over with' mood that prevails as the election approaches. But it bodes ill for the prospects of parties not affiliated with the regime, which stood to gain from protest votes.

Several people said that given the chance, they would have voted for the National League for Democracy (NLD), the overwhelming victors of the last election in 1990. With the NLD boycotting the polls this time around, however, they said they were at a loss as to who they should support.

Only one opposition party - the Democratic Party, led by daughters of former leaders of Burma during its brief era of parliamentary rule from 1948-62 - was mentioned by name, by a tour guide who said he supported the party's focus on improving access to health care and education.

The party, whose slogan is 'vote courageously', has vowed not to pull out of the election, despite recent complaints of harassment by the authorities. But it has also made it clear that it won't call on the masses to risk their lives by demanding their democratic rights.

'I don't want people to go out on the streets and get killed and imprisoned again. We believe we can only bring about a change of government through elections,' said Cho Cho Kyaw Nyein, one of the 'three princesses' who lead the Democratic Party, speaking to the Associated Press on 8 August, the anniversary of Burma's nationwide pro-democracy uprising in 1988, which ended in a bloody crackdown by the military.

This message - that voting is better than open resistance - may have reached at least a segment of the electorate. The owner of a small restaurant said that he had supported the NLD when it called for sanctions against the regime, but no longer believes there is any point in pursuing a policy that has yielded little in the way of results.

'For five years, 10 years, we supported the opposition. But 20 years later, nothing has improved,' he said, adding that he laid equal blame for Burma's political and economic stagnation on the military, the opposition and exiles (for 'spreading rumours').

With or without the willing leadership of opposition politicians, however, Burma could face renewed unrest if, after the election, the situation on the ground continues to be as bleak as it is today. 'People may protest again if nothing improves,' said the tour guide, adding that for now, most people are just keeping their heads down and taking a wait-and-see attitude.

For ordinary citizens trying to navigate Burma's treacherous political terrain, this may indeed be the wisest course of action. Everybody knows that the junta's road to democracy is paved with broken promises. The best most can hope for, then, is not to fall through the cracks of a crumbling economy as they scramble to make ends meet.                   

This article is reproduced from The Irrawaddy (September 2010, www.irrawaddy.org).

*Third World Resurgence No. 240/241, August-September 2010, pp 56-57