30 September 2007

The Lady and the Tigers

Shwedagon Temple, Rangoon

“It is of a wonderful bignesse, and all gilded from the foot to the toppe,” - Ralph Fitch, 1586, First Englishman to glimpse the Shwedagon Temple.

On this June afternoon, the marble floors felt warm on the soles of my feet. The Congressman had sent us away so he could consult in private with some business figures in town. He knew that Calvin and I had never seen the greatest Burmese wonder, and there would be a dinner of state that night to occupy us. Whether for concern for our privacy, or the delicacy of his conversations, looking for levers to pull that might get Nobel Laureate Aun San Suu Kyi sprung from house arrest. We eagerly took the opportunity to visit the Shewdagon complex. The jet miles were causing me to fall asleep in meetings, which is not the look of diplomatic success.

The Embassy car took us, weaving around tricycle cabs. South of the big temple complex we passed another golden pagoda, the Sule Paya, which is two thousand years old. But nothing dominates the skyline except the Shwedagon, no construction cranes, no skyscrapers.

The pagoda still towers over city, a 326-foot-tall, bell-shaped spire gilded in layer after layer of real gold and precious metals, set with more than 5,000 diamonds and other gems. It glitters in the sun, impossibly rich.

It is a staggering work. Below the bell are hundreds of smaller stupas and bells and wandering people. The place is completely open. The only requirement is to remove your shoes and socks in respect. Calvin and I were thus barefoot in our business suits. The Burmese looked a lot more comfortable, since the men mostly wear traditional longyi, an ankle-length, wrapped skirt of cotton tied in the front. The women wear essentially the same thing, tied on the side. Wearing the skirt is encouraged by a national dress policy instituted by the Junta, which also had a policy about mini-skirts for the girls. It disapproved of the latter, but the longyi is a matter of comfort, due to the extreme heat and humidity.   

I bought a couple in conservative business patterns, on the off-chance that I would be back.

The marble floors of the temple were warm to our feet. The Shwedagon had become a central part of city life, a place where the military was not such an overwhelming presence. Men were draped around the pagoda's elevated base, eating and drinking. Women prostrated themselves in worship to a goddess who grants miracles to the childless. As if to demonstrate success, there were children aplenty in the temple precincts.

It is a place that is alive, and we were encouraged to make noise, striking great bells to ensure that our travels would be safe. Considering where we were, and where we were going, it seemed like a good bet.

The temple complex dates back1,500 years, to the foundation of what would become the present nation-state. In 849 of the common era, the Kingdom of Pagan was founded by a tribe known as the Burman, driving the Shan people to the highlands in the north and the Karens to the northeast. Other groups with regional majorities include the Karenni, Kachin, Rakhine, Chin, Rohingya, and the Mon. Their various oppressions by the central government were also part of the reason the Congressman was there, particularly the plight of the Karen refugees who had been pushed across the Thai border in the area near Mai Sot.

I had a scheme to use an Embassy airplane in Bangkok to go visit one of the camps there, since we could fly there in comfort.

To understand the nuance of the situation, it was necessary to get the background on how things came to be the way they were.

I poured over a guidebook as the Deputy to the SLORC Commander haranged us that morning. It was easier to read than listen to the translation.

In 1287, Pagan was conquered by the Mongolians, and the various tribes fell into a loose dependency on China. They united in 1582 to become the Kingdom of Burma under the Toungboo dynasty, which was supplanted by the Konbaung line of Kings in 1752.   Had they not had the misfortune to be located next door to the burgeoning East India Company, there might have been a unified Burma similar to the more ethnically homogenous Thai kingdom to the east, which was never colonized.

The British model of “divide and rule” did not work there.

Proximity to British India had its own security imperative. After three bloody wars beginning in 1824, Burma was brought into the Raj. The conquest was complete in 1885, and the land and people of Mandalay came into British India, providing it poet laureate Rudyard Kipling's “dawn com(ing) up like thunder, out of Mandalay, 'cross the Bay.”

The Strand Hotel was complete in 1901, and the streets of Rangoon were filled with punka sahibs and minor maharajas. The Tiger hunting was good up country, and the gemstones glittered for the export trade. In May of 1911 a baby was born to a middle-class couple of the public service class. The baby was named “Shu Maung,” or, in Burmese, “The apple of one's eye.”

He grew up in the fading light of the Imperial Age in Burma. He studied at University College in Rangoon, until his academic career came to an unfortunate end over a failed biology test. As unemployed and restless young men are wont to do, he drifted into the “Our Burma Association,” or Dobama Asiayone. The group was composed of young nationalists eager for independence from the British. It was there that he met the charismatic young radical Aung San, The Lady's father.

By the late 1930s things were beginning to unravel in South Asia, the old order beginning to creak. There were all manner of opportunities for enterprising fellows. With the political situation beginning to disintegrate on the Continent, pressure was growing in Delhi for independence. In 1937, Viceroy Victor Hope, longest serving of the colonial administrators, implemented limited home rule for five Indian states, and cut Burma loose as a separate colony.

Before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Aung San and Shu Maung were two of the “Thirty Comrades” who traveled to Tokyo for secret military training. After the war exploded and the British and Americans began to reel in retreat, the Burma Independence Army was formed to partner   with the advancing Japanese. Shu Maung considered the time right to change his name. As Ne Win (Brilliant as the Sun, or Sun of Glory), he led the BIA into Rangoon, following the British retreat.

The Japanese made Ba Maw head of the puppet state, and Aung San the Minister of War. Ne Win was commissioned a General, and was installed as Chief of Staff for the brand new Burmese National Army (BMA) in the pivotal year of 1943.

Life goes on, even in the midst of wartime. While he was Minister of Defence Aung San met and married Daw Khin Kyi. Around the same time her sister met and married communist leader Thakin Than Tun. The Burmese are nothing, if not pragmatic.

The Japanese had dogged the British across a thousand miles, to the edge of the plains of India.   There, Viscount Slim assumed command of the 14th Indian Army and drove east again, driving the Japanese first out of Imphal and Kohima, and then across the Chindwin River. He advanced south against fanatical defense on the part of the Japanese and a more pragmatic approach from the Burmese. In 1945, Slim's forces crossed the Irawaddy in triumph, and Aung San formed the Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League and transferring allegiance to the Allies.

British authority over Burma was restored in August, coincident with the surrender of the Japanese in Tokyo Bay. In the moment of triumph of British arms, the pressure for independence continued all across South Asia. General Ne Win remained in the army, taking command of the 4th Burmese Rifles.

In June of 1945 a daughter was born to General Aung San. She was a lovely child. Her proud parents named her Suu Kyi, and she was exactly the reason we were going to return from the Shwedagon and join the Congressman for the next item on the itinerary.

Next up was a meeting with one of the Deputy Prime Ministers, Vice-Admiral Maung Maung Khin. He was reported to be the Human Face of the Tigers. Maybe he could convince them to let her go, if we were nice.

Tomorrow: What's in a Name?

Copyright 2007 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

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