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Reconciliation Needed for a United Burma

By Naw May Oo

Historians know well that every story has many sides, many aspects, and many  dimensions to explore. When a story is about such a topic as faith or  politics, emotions can quickly become charged. Politics and history often intertwine, and inextricably connect, as individuals  advocate for beliefs and ideas important to them. When our history and   beliefs are challenged, it is easy to believe we ourselves are being  challenged.  Unchecked, this can open old wounds, and further the  distance between us.

 A united Burma requires a spirit of togetherness and reconciliation from  all of us. In this spirit, I respectfully call for more political  sensitivity in all who are active in the movement for change. 

I believe that what is most important is individual conversion and change of heart, to recognize people first and foremost in their humanity, and to respect and to treat with dignity. However, recent articles in The Irrawaddy have caused me to pause and reflect on the condition of the movement for change in Burma.   

After the military coup on Sept. 18, 1988, my brother and three friends,  university students, came to my mother for help and somewhere to hide.  They were all university students in their junior and senior years.
My mother helped smuggle them out to safety, and we subsequently heard they had reached a Karen National Union base.

Two months later, we  also left, traveling through the mountains to the  Salween River and a village
called Kawmoorah, where students from all  over Burma were gathering and where the All Burma Students' Democratic  Front began to take shape.  For many, it was their first encounter with  Karen people.
As more students arrived, the nature of these first encounters changed. It quickly became apparent just how ill prepared both sides were for what  we were heading into. 
 
For centuries, Karen had lived in the region the students were now fleeing  to and the strength of the KNU offered them a sort of safe-haven.  once  safe, however, we soon learned about the apparent differences in our  goals and ways of life.

The Karen had farmed, established logging and other business practices in  order to support a society. For the Karen, the KNU territories were not a temporary safe zone, but rather an integral part of life, history and  culture. 

Many Burmese students found the experience unfamiliar, challenging, and in  some cases unbearable. Rural life was a far cry from a familiar routine  of university study. For these students, the KNU and the shelter they offered were temporary,  stop-gap measures necessary only to regroup and work for political  change back "home."

 The KNU, for its part, was caught off guard. There were differing views on  how to receive these fleeing students. And there were practical as well  as political and psychological concerns.  The students expected to be received with honor, for they were “fighting  for a just cause.” They failed to recognize that the KNU and the Karen  people had been fighting for “a just cause” for 40 years. 

In time, the divergence between these goals created friction and sometimes conflict.  I recall well the
case of one of my brother’s friends, Ko Win Myint, who  broke off his final year of study at the Government Technical Institute  and took up a new life in the jungles of Karen State.  Like many of his friends, Ko Win Myint earned pocket money working in the  lucrative logging business, which was controlled by the  20th battalion  of the Karen National Liberation Army (KNLA).

Life in the jungle proved too difficult for Ko Win Myint, who told friends  that when he had saved enough money he would return home.  News of his intentions reached the KNLA battalion leadership, which looked  with concern at student movements that could compromise security.

Ko Win Myint disappeared and it has never been established what happened  to him. While the mystery may never be cleared up, the issue of most  concern is the manner in which we all reacted to it.  Did we hope for  the
best in each other? Did we acknowledge the trials and  tribulations we all faced? I think perhaps at times, we let the stress,  our fears and panic get the better of us. We doubted each other and  mistrusted those we called "friends."   
     
For many students fleeing to KNU territory, the jungle and the Karen way of life was a challenge. Expectations, often unshared ideals and a lack of preparation combined to make it especially difficult. 

The contrast between the Karen villagers and the fleeing Burmese students  was vast and striking.  As unprepared as the Karens were at that time,  the Burmese students, mostly city-dwellers, were equally unprepared to  meet their native brothers who looked different and who did not even  speak Burmese.

The government preached a united Burma, a Pyidaungsu, or “Union.”  Yet, in reality, life was vastly different from the image painted by the regime.  Naïve stereotypes persisted on both sides. Burmese students thought the Karen were savages who did not understand the customs of hospitality and fled before them. 

They did not realize that the only previous people who spoke the Burmese  language loudly and entered
these villages had always been members of  the  Burmese armed forces, the Tatmadaw.  And every time the Burmese soldiers came, they destroyed villages,  killing and pillaging. Little wonder that the Karen fled
whenever  Burmese visitors called.

In one essay in The Irrawaddy, the author—one of the highest ranking members of the ABSDF  leadership—recalled the failure of the judiciary system within the KNU,  which he termed “Karen style justice.”  Never in my student days in Burma, nor from my parents who were both educated in Burma, have I heard of or used the term “Burmese/Burman style  justice.”  We did not understand many things about the persecution of  ethnic groups in Burma, but we understood that it was not “Burmese/Burman style justice.” 

The ABSDF, in many regards, holds a unique position as a grass-roots  organization that could potentially ease the tension between the  Burmese/Burman and the Karen villagers.  If anybody should be sympathetic to the plight of Karen villagers, it is  the ABSDF.  If anybody should understand the ethnic tension a little  better than city-based political parties, it is the ABSDF. 

The time spent by ABSDF members among Karen villagers has created the  opportunity for this organization to become an agent of peace and  reconciliation—between the Karen and Burmans, but also perhaps within  the country as a whole.  Mitigating the concerns of the Karens and the Burmans, reconciliation and  co-existence are
precisely the elusive goal and vision for a united  Burma, which has hitherto existed only as a dream. 

The military regime has opted for the imposition of a fantasy, unrelated to  the reality of life and perpetuated through hatred, mistrust and fear.  As I look back at our movement, at the trials and joys that we have  shared, I must ask myself: what course will be adopted by the ABSDF—or,  for that matter, any Burmese political organization? 

Will the organizations recognize the accomplishments, camaraderie and many  successes we have shared?  Will they commit themselves unconditionally  to the dream of a united Burma? Will they work for this dream, despite  the fears, challenges and hurts we all have encountered?  Or, will they  continue to operate merely as a network of hatred?  When some former ABSDF members despondently complained that the ethnic  minorities “were not
fighting for democracy,” I wondered what the   Burmese/Burman political leadership means when it talks about democracy. 

If wanting to elect leaders to represent you, if demanding equality and fair representation is not democracy, then what is?  My Burmese/Burman counterparts like to portray ethnic minorities as “narrow-minded nationalists.” 
However, more often than not, they  demonstrate their limited view of democracy, which is narrowly defined  to fit Burmese understanding.

The Burmese/Burman political leadership has long been preaching national  unity and coexistence,
but it has not been sufficiently putting these  concepts into practice.  The people of Burma, especially my generation, grew up in a bogus Union  that emerged from the 1947 Constitution.  Looking now at the 2008  Constitution, the Union we dream of does not appear in the slightest  form. For a country as divided as Burma, a peaceful coexistence must be  voluntary.  For this to happen, every single citizen at every level  plays an important role. 
 
With this in mind, I respectfully call for a more political sensitivity on  the part of all my Burmese/Burman counterparts who are active in a  movement for change.  Accepting and embracing this challenging task will be a significant first step toward the genuine reconciliation and  reunification we all dream of. That hold the promise
of an exciting  future, one that I am committed to working for.

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