Burmese Generals Are Never Too Far
My grade-school paper put Myanmar on my map
The news from Myanmar is disturbing and lamentable. After the recent coup-d’etat, reports indicate a descent into chaos. The images have been startling and indelible: the viral video of the young woman doing her exercise routine while, in the background, the army rolled in to topple the government; the protest rallies, with scores of mostly young people, many in construction helmets, holding up the three-finger salute, familiar to The Hunger Games fans; the nun kneeling in front of riot police begging them not to shoot; and the protester, now known as Angel, shot in the head while wearing a t-shirt saying, “Everything will be OK,” her defiant hand-on-knee lean, now on posters and t-shirts. Members from Aug Sang Suu Kyi’s democratically elected administration have been reported killed while under detention by the military junta. The whereabouts of Aug Sang Suu Kyi, herself, are also unknown.
Why is Burma on my mind? I adopted Burma, a random pick, for my first research paper ever, a project that left me with a soft spot in my heart for that troubled nation, one that can’t agree on its name.
When I started the project, I knew nothing about Burma, but one quickly learns that Burma is a country with many ethnic groups, distrustful of each other. I’m sure I wrote about its demographics, that Buddhism is it’s primary religion, and about its agriculture and natural resources. The other obvious fact is that the country is strongly influenced by China, the giant on its border. I included in my report their most famous citizen, U Thant, the UN Secretary General in the late sixties, a name everyone knew then, mostly forgotten now. The master stroke for my project was tracing a small map from the encyclopedia, and, using graph paper, I enlarged it to fit a full page, a technique now lost to digital cameras. Over my map outline, using colored pencils, I added rivers, shoreline shading, and major cities. The map gave my English prose some cover.
Since those grade-school days, I have kept Burma on my periphery, reading about it when it is in the news, rarely has it been good.
The current upheaval, overshadowed by pandemic and other national news, appears to be at a juncture. The army, known as the Tatmadaw — a name sounding eerily similar to the Tonton Macoute, “Papa Doc” Duvalier’s murderous militia in Haiti — is feared and brutal, yet can be slowed by women’s clothing strung over the streets. The men fear bad luck from walking underneath the sarongs. My Haitian friend recently reminded me that Duvalier’s henchmen were superstitious too.
If there is a glimmer of hope, it is that the uprising has united ethnic groups, all longing for a democratic answer to their problems. If that unity holds and Suu Kyi is released unharmed, the Burmese people may get another chance to work on their troubles without the violence. The photographs of the teachers, sitting in the street in lotus poses and wearing large red Myanmar-hats, were redemptive among the more violent images. May their solidarity spur the international community to press the generals for peace, to help them hear the call of the Burmese people.
Title is taken from XTC’s song, “Generals and Majors.”
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