Big agenda for ethnic groups in Myanmar | New Mandala

Big agenda for ethnic groups in Myanmar | New Mandala

 

YAW BAWM MANGSHANG, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR, 

14 NOVEMBER 2014

After enduring decades of brutal military dictatorship, the people of multi-ethnic Myanmar finally got their chance to try democracy. In November 2010, the people of Myanmar voted for the first time in twenty years. While the election was an important step toward peace, Myanmar’s military maintains a tight hold on political power, making progress difficult. The international community has supported the democratic transition, but has focused too narrowly on governmental reforms and economic development, while the demands of Myanmar’s ethnic minorities are marginalized. The fact remains that disenfranchising ethnic minorities will prolong armed conflict and possibly derail the democratization process. Thus, for Myanmar’s democracy to succeed, the international community must actively promote ethnic minorities.

The ethnic dimension of Myanmar is extremely complex, but the major anti-government players consist of seven groups, each possessing armed rebel forces. Among these dominant groups, the Kachin Independence Organization is yet to sign a ceasefire agreement with the government, and is a member of the United Nationalities Federal Council, the political alliance of ethnic rebel groups. While each ethnic group is distinct from the others, most find common ground in their mutual resistance to centralized rule. The political demands of Myanmar’s ethnic groups revolve around this issue of autonomy and the internal sovereignty they were promised by the Panglong Agreement of 1947, a treaty unifying Burma with several neighboring territories also under British control. The Panglong Agreement was signed in order to more effectively push for independence, but only under the condition of retaining autonomy. Without this agreement, minorities argue, there would be no unification in the first place and minority regions of Myanmar might today be separate and independent states.

The 2010 election renewed ethnic minorities’ hopes for negotiating adequate decentralization, but the winning party—the Union Solidarity and Development Party—is tacitly supported by the military and is dominated by former generals. This new, nominally civilian government led by President Thein Sein, also a former general, hasinitiated several widely praised (yet ineffective) reforms. The so-called civilian government has become a darling of the West, as evidenced by the lifting of most economic sanctions. In 2013, Myanmar’s military was invited as an observer to Cobra Gold, a major, regional military exercise led by the United States.

The warming relationship between the West and Myanmar’s government is based on the promise of reforms, but those reforms have not empowered the country’s ethnic minorities or granted them any meaningful autonomy — both essential conditions for ending armed conflict. However, the government’s actions demonstrate a reluctance to change.

President Thein Sein touted national reconciliation and reform after coming to power in 2011, and his government has engaged with Myanmar’s rebel ethnic groups in over a dozen peace talks. However, the May 2014 attacks and numerous battles against the Kachin Independence Army, the displacement of over 100,000 refugees, and continued military buildup in ethnic areas make ethnic groups and Myanmar analysts alike question the sincerity of the peace negotiations.

The unwillingness of the government to share power with ethnic minorities is reflected in the 2008 constitution. When the constitution was drafted, most armed ethnic groups participated and presented their demands to be incorporated, but ultimately none were included. Now, rebel, ethnic groups and the government are at an impasse. The government insists rebel groups first lay down their arms, then convert to political parties and participate in elections under the framework of the constitution. But rebel groups, such as the Kachin Independence Organization, want political negotiation and constitutional reform before agreeing to a ceasefire. Many Myanmar observers see the current constitution as the mechanism preserving the military’s political power instead of more appropriately devolving power to ethnic groups.

Additionally, the government has wrongly blamed poverty as the driver of insurgency and has pursued economic development ahead of political negotiation, further rankling Myanmar’s ethnic groups. Economic development may benefit government officials, but it will not solve the conflict unless the demands of ethnic minorities are properly addressed.

Unfortunately, Myanmar’s lucrative business in natural resources blinds the international community to ethnic minorities’ grievances. To bolster peace in Myanmar, the international community must step back from rapid economic development and refocus on political negotiation. Otherwise, civil war will continue and the military will remain a powerful actor in Myanmar politics for years to come.

International influence is crucial for democracy to succeed in Myanmar and there are several actions that can facilitate the peace process.

First, the international community should acknowledge rebel groups as legitimate political entities representing their respective ethnic groups. Without explicit support from the international community, rebel groups have no leverage to enter political negotiation.

Second, the international community should not prematurely encourage foreign investment in Myanmar. Instead, investment, engagement with the military (which is blocking the democratic reform), and debt relief should be used as incentive for tangible political reform.

Third, the Myanmar government should be pressured to implement the peaceprocess in good faith, to cease military buildup in ethnic areas and, to stop ongoing military campaigns which could derail the nationwide ceasefire negotiation process.

Fourth, the international community should offer mediation for this delicate stage of the peace process and provide minority groups an assurance of security for participation in political talks.

Fifth, the international community should recognize the importance of providing autonomy to ethnic groups and should pressure the government to implement federalism accordingly.

Sixth, the Myanmar government should be pressured to allow humanitarian aid to be distributed to internally displaced people in Kachin State.

Additionally, the international community should urge the government to amend the 2008 constitution, which both prevents Aung San Suu Kyi from running for president in 2015 and enshrines military power in Myanmar politics.

These steps are vital to foster Myanmar’s fledgling democracy, but above all, the international community must not turn away from the people of Myanmar. Without support the conflict will continue, and if the international community does not stand up for Myanmar’s ethnic minorities, who will?

Yaw Bawm Mangshang is co-founder of the Nau Shawng Education Network (NSEN) with a goal of cultivating democratic culture through civic education and higher education opportunities for young people. NSEN is based in Myitkyina, Myanmar, where Yaw Bawm worked as director until mid-2012. With a Fulbright Scholarship, he is currently studying for a Master of Arts in Law and Diplomacy at the Fletcher School, Tufts University. He can be reached atwunpawng@gmail.com or mangshang.bawm@tufts.edu.

Review of Kingdom in Crisis | New Mandala

Review of Kingdom in Crisis | New Mandala

 

PATRICK JORY AND LEE JONES, 

12 NOVEMBER 2014

Andrew MacGregor Marshall, A Kingdom in Crisis: Thailand’s Struggle for Democracy in the Twenty-First Century.

London: Zed Books, 2014. Pp. viii, 220; note on names, map, notes, bibliography, index.

***

The long-awaited publication of Andrew MacG. Marshall’s book occasions two reviews, from very different angles, from Patrick Jory and Lee Jones.

***

Reviewed by Patrick Jory.

It is well known that Thailand has been in the throes of a debilitating political crisis since 2005. But what is the real cause of that crisis?This is the question that Andrew MacGregor Marshall attempts to answer in this provocative, much-awaited book, A Kingdom in Crisis: Thailand’s Struggle for Democracy. A clue to the argument is in the book’s title: it is a crisis of a “kingdom”, or, more specifically, Thailand’s monarchy.

Marshall, a former Reuters journalist, has for some years now been the foremost commentator on the taboo subject of the role of the monarchy in Thailand’s politics. He has been a particularly active user of on-line media to get his ideas across to the public. He “broke” the story of the Wikileaks cables that dealt with Thailand, in which senior figures in the Thai establishment discuss, among other things, the involvement of Queen Sirikit in the 2006 coup and their antipathy towards Crown Prince Vajiralongkorn. He has written and published on-line the extended essays, “Thai Story”and “The Tragedy of King Bhumibol”, which broach some of the material that is presented in A Kingdom in Crisis. His Facebook page is a go-to site for news on members of the Thai royal family, and he has a large number of followers on Twitter. A Kingdom in Crisis represents the fullest expression of the views that Marshall has been making known in recent years.

His argument is that at the heart of the political crisis that has convulsed Thailand since 2005 is a bitterly fought but undeclared struggle over the succession to the throne.

The remainder of this review is available here.

***

Reviewed by Lee Jones.

Andrew MacGregor Marshall’s A Kingdom in Crisis has been eagerly and long awaited by many Thailand watchers. Having resigned from a senior Reuters post in 2011 to publish a series of articles on Thailand’s political crisis based on leaked US diplomatic documents, “AMM” has become a vociferous critic of Thai elites and especially the monarchy, developing a wide following on social media. A Kingdom in Crisis was anticipated as the definitive statement of AMM’s most controversial thesis: that “an unacknowledged conflict over royal succession is at the heart of Thailand’s twenty-first political crisis” (page 3). However, despite its many merits, the book does not quite clinch this argument.

A Kingdom in Crisis is a bold, uncompromising and highly critical survey of Thailand’s ongoing political crisis. The focus, however, is squarely on the monarchy, rather than on its place within Thailand’s broader polity and political economy. The first nine chapters all relate to the period before 2000, delving into ancient history to underscore the brutality of the absolutist monarchy and the normality of power struggles over the succession. Only three chapters then deal with the current conjuncture and make AMM’s central argument. The background is, of course, interesting and useful, and although it may contain little new for Thailand specialists, to collate the truly damning history of the Thai monarchy in an accessible manner is a worthy endeavour.This is particularly true in a context in which even mere academic commentary on the monarchy’s ancient history risks prosecution and hefty jail sentences under Thailand’s deeply obnoxious lèse majesté laws.

The remainder of this review is available here.

Analysis: The frosty handshake that could thaw Sino-Japanese relations | Asian Correspondent

Analysis: The frosty handshake that could thaw Sino-Japanese relations | Asian Correspondent
 Michele Penna Nov 11, 2014

The Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) meeting seemingly worked its magic: Chinese President Xi Jinping and Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe finally shook hands on Oct. 10, after two years of suspended high level visits and of deteriorating relations.

The graphic was remarkably unconvincing: against the flowery choreography of the Great Hall of People, a wary Mr. Abe looks at cameras with a barely visible smirk, while Mr. Xi seems to make no attempt to smile at all (see for yourself in the video above). But shake hands they did, and that is what everyone was waiting for.

Besides, by the time the widely expected meeting took place the real big news had already been out for a while. Last Friday, the two countries agreed to disagree on the disputed Diaoyu/Senkaku Islands, stating that they are willing to set up a crisis management system in order to prevent confrontations from escalating.

The dispute has been poisoning mutual relations between the two countries since 2012, when the Japanese government decided to nationalize the islands, which used to be property of a private family. Beijing argued that such a decision was an infringement on its territorial integrity and a crisis ensued, preventing the two leaders from holding meetings and causing some serious damage to business relations.

The agreement reached by China’s State Councilor Yang Jiechi and Japan’s National Security Advisor Shotaro Yachi – here is the version translated by Xinhua – includes four points. Two are fairly vague: the first affirms that Beijing and Tokyo will “continue to develop the China-Japan strategic relationship of mutual benefit,” while the second points out that “the two sides have reached some agreement on overcoming political obstacles in the bilateral relations.”

The really interesting stuff comes with the third, according to which, “The two sides have acknowledged that different positions exist between them regarding the tensions which have emerged in recent years over the Diaoyu Islands and some waters in the East China Sea, and agreed to prevent the situation from aggravating through dialogue and consultation and establish crisis management mechanisms to avoid contingencies.” The fourth, finally, states that “The two sides have agreed to gradually resume political, diplomatic and security dialogue through various multilateral and bilateral channels and to make efforts to build political mutual trust.”

“I think it’s monumentally important,” said William Choong, Shangri-La Dialogue Senior Fellow International Institute for Strategic Studies, in a phone interview with the Asian Correspondent. “They are the second and third largest economies in the world: because of their different opinions, the bilateral relationship has been bad and that has affected the whole strategic triangle between China, Japan and the United States. Besides, they have also affected Asia’s emerging security architecture.”

According to Dr. Choong, the institution of a mechanism to prevent crises from reaching dangerous levels – essentially a hotline to be used for direct contact in case of incidents – is an important bit of the deal. “What happened in the past – vessels being arrested, naval confrontations, etc. – all these incidents would be avoided with a crisis management system,” said Dr. Choong.

The APEC meeting might have provided a good excuse for the two statesmen to get together, but it would be simplistic to think that what was a fraught relationship yesterday was healed yesterday just for the benefit of the cameras.

According to Jim Nolt, Adjunct Professor of U.S.-China relations at New York University and Senior Fellow at the World Policy Institute, economic headaches might go a long way in explaining why this limited agreement has been reached now rather than earlier. “I think it is partly based on the fact that there is bad economic news in both China and Japan. They need to continue to do trade and business, it would be bad for both if that did not do so. Besides, the agreement would help restore confidence and benefit their respective countries,” he said in an interview with the Asian Correspondent.

It should be noted that China recorded a five-year low growth of 7.3 percent in the third quarter, raising doubts whether the government’s 7.5 percent yearly target can be met. In Japan, Abeconomics – the set of measures used by the Abe administration to kick-start the Japanese economy – has not stood up to the expectations it had raised. Against such background, warm economic ties would come as a relief. As Prof. Nolt put it, the two Asian nations “realize they cannot afford a dispute.”

It will be interesting to see what the two countries’ respective nationalists will make of the deal. According to analysts not much, as both parties can somehow claim victory: China has finally got Japan to agree that there is a dispute (even though the Japanese side reportedly said they merely acknowledge that Beijing has a different point of view.) Tokyo can also claim that it has managed to mend ties while not giving up territory.

Matthew Funaiole, a research associate with the Foreign Policy Centre, told us in an email interview that the agreement may in fact indicate that both sides are becoming increasingly attentive to nationalist movements. “In Japan, nationalists and conservatives (many of whom support Prime Minister Abe) may interpret the agreement as evidence of China backing down from its territorial claims,” Dr. Funaiole said. In China, “the agreement may afford the CCP the opportunity to reaffirm its legitimacy to the international community, in light of the recent crackdown on protestors in Hong Kong.”

Good as it may be, the handshake will hardly be the end of tensions. First of all, the ‘agreement to disagree’ does not per se rule out incidents, which could still aggravate the situation. Furthermore, no direct mention was made of the other significant irritant in Sino-Japanese relations: the Yasukuni Shrine, where the spirits of rank-and-file Japanese soldiers sleep next to those of World War II criminals. In 2013, a visit by Mr. Abe provided fuel to nationalistic debates in China and apparently supported the theory that Japan has not yet fully come to terms with its imperialistic past.

An end to official visits to the shrine – along with the recognition that a territorial dispute exists – were the preconditions set by China for meeting with Japanese leaders. Beijing must have shown some flexibility in that regard, because little appears to have changed: all that has been said, it seems, is that Japan “must look at history squarely and move towards the future.”

Sodomy and sedition: desperate times for democracy in Malaysia | New Mandala

Sodomy and sedition: desperate times for democracy in Malaysia | New Mandala

 

ASIA PACIFIC EDITOR, 

7 NOVEMBER 2014

Photo by udeyismail on flickr.

As Anwar Ibrahim’s fate hangs in the balance, Malaysia’s democratic chances are slipping further away, writes James Giggacher. 

Malaysia’s long-time opposition leader Anwar Ibrahim’s fate still hangs in the balance; his political future as tenuous as the sodomy charges brought against him.

Since October 27 he has been fighting a five-year jail sentence for allegedly sodomising an aide handed down by the nation’s Appeals Court in March – itself an overturning of an earlier acquittal by the High Court.

It’s the second time Anwar’s faced sodomy charges, the first being in 1998 during the failed ‘reformasi’ movement. If the Federal Court upholds this latest conviction, Anwar will also lose his status as an MP and not be allowed to engage in politics for years.

Anwar’s rejected the idea of living in exile to stay in Malaysia and face the charges. It’s his final appeal. A bold, courageous move; maybe a stupid one born from his unfailing naivety about the prospects for political freedom in his homeland.

It’s not the ‘crime’ he is charged with, or the evidence given in this final courtroom charade (underpants and KY jelly have featured), that is truly sordid. Rather, it is what the whole sorry saga says about the declining prospects for democracy in Malaysia.

Many inside and outside the country see the charges as nothing more than politically motivated and trumped up – the latest shot in a long running war against the most powerful threat to ruling coalition, Barisan Nasional.

“The ‘sodomy’ charges against Anwar Ibrahim are a blatant attempt by the Malaysian authorities to silence and undermine a critical voice,” said Amnesty International in a statement the day the court case started. “If Anwar Ibrahim is jailed, Amnesty International will consider him a prisoner of conscience.”

Anwar and his Pakatan Rakyat (People’s Alliance) coalition took incumbent Prime Minister Najib Razak and Barisan Nasional to the line in last year’s general elections, winning 51 per cent of the popular vote, but only 40 per cent of seats in parliament.

But while GE13 was billed as the democratic dawn many had longed for so long, Anwar once again found himself on the sidelines. With no one to take up the mantle, the 67-year-old still finds himself leader of Malaysia’s “rainbow” opposition.

The ‘gerrymandering’ of seats saw Barisan Nasional win the election by 133 seats to 89. The result, their narrowest parliamentary win and worst result ever, spooked those who have ruled Malaysia uninterrupted since independence in 1957 using a volatile mix of ethnic-based politics and emergency powers, all managed by the velvet glove of economic growth.

This was compounded by the election results of five years prior; Barisan’s eroding base is a trend which had begun in 2008, when it failed to win the ‘moral victory’ of a two-thirds majority in parliament. Yet, a general upswing in support since then, let alone winning the popular vote in 2013, wasn’t enough to see the opposition remove Barisan’s grip on power. It’s largely because the political deck is stacked in their favour.

While the elections were “partially” free, according to key regional think tanks, they were far from fair.

ANU political scientist Edward Aspinall points to gerrymandering, as well as the fuzzy line between the state and government as key reasons why Barisan held onto government despite losing the popular vote. More worrying, they are indicators of Malaysia’s increasingly less than democratic system.

His colleague Ross Tapsell has also highlighted how Barisan were able to maintaincontrol and domination over the mainstream media during the elections, even in the face of apparent freedoms brought in by online and social media.

GE13 also saw widespread claims of electoral fraud and irregularities; particularly around the integrity of the electoral roll, postal and early votes, and polling – all pointed out by Bridget Welsh at the Center for East Asia Democratic Studies.

Instances of vote-buying and fly-in voters corralled to cast their ballots for Barisan were clear on the day. Meredith Weiss, a researcher from SUNY monitored the election campaign as part of a research project funded by ANU.

“Today has been punctuated most notably by calls of Bangladeshis, Indonesians, Filipinos, and other migrant workers, allegedly gifted with identity cards, then transported by the plane load to wherever their votes (for Barisan Nasional of course)  are most needed,” she wrote for New Mandala last May.

But it’s more than dirty politics at play; at the heart of the Anwar case is a Malaysia where political freedom is in freefall.

Human Rights Watch says that since his shaky victory in GE13, Najib Razak has ushered in an era of deteriorating rights – including new and revised laws permitting detention without trial, arrests of opposition activists for peaceful protests, and attempts to shut down human rights NGOs.

Then there is the archaic Sedition Act.

Provisions of the sedition law are extremely wide-ranging, and as Human Rights Watch notes, the way the law is worded makes it almost impossible to refute in court.

“The Sedition Act prohibits vague offenses such as uttering ‘any seditious words’ without defining what constitutes ‘sedition’ or ‘seditious words’. It broadly outlaws any ‘seditious tendency’ that would ‘bring into hatred or contempt or excite disaffection against any Ruler or against any Government’,” reads an online statement.

Since May this year around 20 sedition charges have been laid or enquiries initiated, against opposition leaders, activists, university scholars, journalists and students – despite Prime Minister Razak promising in July 2012 to repeal this catch-all act from a “bygone era”.

Legal proceedings are also still ongoing against two politicians and one NGO leader charged with sedition last year. Amnesty Intentional point to scores of others under investigation. Others say the number is as high as 40.

One of those is Rafizi Ramli – a 37-year-old politician from the opposition’s People’s Justice Party who has gained widespread prominence after a series of high-levelcorruption exposes.

Ramli is currently under investigation for writing about Anwar’s second sodomy case, and has also recently been charged under the Penal Code over a statement he made in February alleging political attempts to create racial and religious discord in Selangor.

In a recent interview with New Mandala Ramli pointed out the dire times for Malaysia’s democracy, opposition and Anwar.

“Of course you have to be hopeful [for Anwar]. Being an opposition party that was born out of a personal tragedy that happened to him, we can only survive by remaining hopeful. So we remain hopeful that his ‘so-called’ legal problem orchestrated by the government will end very soon,” said Ramli.

“Yet at the same time we are very realistic that he will remain a galvanising figure against the ruling party, and so long as he is actively engaged with the public… we have to remain realistic that there is a high possibility he will be sent to prison again.”

Of course none of this touches on the economic stagnation that Malaysia is currently trying to beat off. Will the velvet glove finally slip? If Anwar and the broader opposition’s situation is anything to go by, it’s already been replaced by a clenched fist.

James Giggacher is Asia Pacific editor at the Australian National University’s College of Asia and the Pacific. His views do not represent the University’s or the College’s.

The Lost Leadership of Timor Leste | New Mandala

The Lost Leadership of Timor Leste | New Mandala

 

ANGIE BEXLEY & MAJ NYGAARD-CHRISTENSEN, 

7 NOVEMBER 2014

Will Xanana Gusmao ever step down? Photo: Maj Nygaard-Christensen

Earlier this year, Prime Minister Xanana Gusmão’s reported his intention to resign in September. Well, September has been and gone and Gusmão remains Prime Minister.

A recent IPAC report summarised the impediments to a transition from Gusmão-ian power and pointed to the way in which past alliances and rivalries play an important role in present politics. The report outlined a key threat to stability in the return of former guerrilla Mauk Moruk, who in 1984, challenged Gusmão’s leadership and, in 2013, challenged Gusmão’s leadership anew through allegations of authoritarianism. It was these critiques that triggered Gusmão’s announcement of a plan to step down. The report goes on to ask some very important questions about the other impediments to leadership, including the lack of a leadership replacement.

The report concludes that Gusmão’s departure and the replacement of the 1975 Generation by younger cadres “should help expand the political elite and make the country less prone to political problems rooted in feuds and rivalries of the distant past”. It rightly points out that any continuation of Gusmão’s role would postpone a real transition of leadership.

However, what kind of leadership is awaiting this transition? What’s their history? Are they really “less prone to political problems” any more than the Generation of ’75? What characterises the New Generation (Geracao Foun), as they describe themselves, of potential leaders in Timor-Leste?

These are important questions because the key to understanding the real transfer of power lies in understanding the relationship between the older Generation of ’75 and the Generation of ’99; and between the Generation of ’99 itself. The ’75 Generation’s unwillingness to transfer political power has as much to do with their rejection of a generation tainted by ‘Indonesia’ as it is about their own unwillingness to resign from politics.

The second reason lies in the failures of Generation 99 itself. Mainly the inability of Generation of ‘99 to imagine themselves as leaders and an inability to ‘capture the state’. This owes firstly to the power relationships that emerged during senior leaders and youth in the resistance movement in which compliance, rather than criticism was the modus operandi. And secondly, the political marginalisation they experienced after independence. Finally, the problem lies in the history of the Generation of ’99 itself.

Who are the Generation of ’75 and the Generation of ’99?

The older generation of Portuguese-educated elite became known as the ‘Generation of ’75 for their role in the decolonization movement against Portugal in 1975. The most well-known members include former Prime Minister Mari bin Alkatiri, Jose Ramos Horta and Xanana Gusmão. Although Gusmão’s influence came later when he became leader of Falintil, he is still associated with the 1975-generation. The Portuguese-educated generation managed to ‘capture the state’ because they fit the international community desired model of easily recognizable and organised political parties, and were experienced leaders. The older generation pushed for Portuguese to be adopted as the country’s official language, thereby maximising their own purchase on the nation through the creation of a linguistic barrier.

By contrast, the members of the Generation of ’99, were defined by their role as activists in the clandestine movement for independence. They grew up under the Indonesian New Order and became fluent in its language and cultures of resistance. Upon independence, the Generation of ’99 expressed disappointment with the decision to prioritise Portuguese and felt it marginalised their own histories. Initially, they coalesced around the language issue.

As their marginalisation wore on however, their united front faded into the background. The Generation of ’75 dubbed them the ‘Supermi Generation’ for their apparent likeness to the iconic Indonesian brand of instant noodles, Supermi; limp and lacking the leadership characteristics of the Generation of ’75. Their exposure to Indonesia ‘tainted’ them and left with questionable loyalty to the nation of Timor-Leste.

The complexity of this position is easy to overlook, as the Generation of ’75 also forged positive state relations with Indonesia. Who has a problem with Indonesia? Nope, not us, Timor-Leste says looking over its shoulder.

Digging deeper, the nature of the post-colony has meant that the vestiges of what Indonesia represented: coloniser, invader, Asian, would not be forgotten but reformulated into the new nation-state politics of belonging and power. Within this framework, the Generation of ’99 have been diagnosed by its leaders, and populace, with a severe case of postcolonial ‘lack’.

The Santa Cruz monument: Timor’s acknowledgement of the sacrifices of Generation 99. Photo credit: Maj Nygaard-Christensen

Geracao Foun in independent politics

As noted in the IPAC report, “none of the political successors [to Xanana Gusmão] has the charisma or independent political base”.

But the reasons behind this also lie in the fact that the younger generation fail to imagine themselves as national leaders. The power relationships that developed between Timorese youth in the clandestine resistance actively suppressed critical thinking among youth leaders. During the clandestine movement, the erasure of difference for a single, unified voice was critical. Women’s voices in particular were silenced for fear that the message of unity in the face of Indonesian occupation would be forsaken. While few have openly spoken about the character of the resistance, those that do describe a top-down leadership style, with youth only allowed to act on direct orders of senior resistance leaders; Xanana Gusmão in particular. The resistance thereby produced a generation of politically engaged youth, but opened few possibilities for independent political decision making and leadership.

This meant that Gusmão was able to capitalise and centralise his power. His immense popularity and beliefs (that he also propagated) about his magical superpowers (to turn himself into a white dog to evade captors, among one of them) contributed to the power relations that developed between senior and junior leaders at the time. His authority continues to evoke such awe that even in private conversations, people are hesitant to name him directly when they are being critical. The reverence with which Xanana Gusmão is held fuel a kind of self-censorship of the imagination, wherein the Generation of ‘99 fail to imagine themselves as leaders.

Critics of these generational power relations are far and few between. Those who vent this viewpoint were kept out of the inner circle of the senior political power circle and have not been invited in. Those in receipt of high political positions have largely remained silent on the past and their role in the clandestine movement, as if now they are recovering their ‘debt’.

Internal divisions

Clandestine politics in Indonesia has thereby been kept out of debates about the transition to power. Although the need for unity was prioritised, splits began to form as soon as clandestine organisations were set up. These divisions emerged according to the geographical locations of centres of clandestine resistance activities in Indonesia, and the ways in which activist operations were run.

Bali and Malang-based students thus took an institutionalised approach to their activism by establishing RENETIL, the East Timorese Students National Resistance. This changed by 1991 when RENETIL operations had moved to Yogyakarta because most of the Bali and Malang-based leaders had been arrested. Yogyakarta-based students had become more radical due to their proximity to the Indonesian-pro-democracy front. Others didn’t agree with their stance. Once RENETIL’s secretary general Fernando de Araujo ‘Lasama’, was released from jail, RENETIL’s operations slowly moved to Jakarta.

The Yogyakarta and Surabaya-based students were often on the front-lines of demonstrations in Jakarta, while the Jakarta-based students became much closer to the resistance leaders in Cipinang prison. Some considered the Jakarta-based group took a more ‘intellectual’ approach to the clandestine operation and together with the Yogya-based group, agitated for critical discussion about their role after independence. On a few occasions, they took the initiative to hold demonstrations counter to Gusmão’s commands.

After independence, there were initial suggestions that RENETIL would transform into a political party. Former Bali and Malang-based students went into politics. For instance, Lasama and Mariano Sabino (the head of IMPETTU, a Timor students organisation allowed by the Indonesian government) went on form to Partido Democratico and hold senior positions in the government, but they have no real popular base of support. Former Yogyakarta and Jakarta-based students went into civil society groups. The recent amendment to the media law that has serious restrictions to press freedom was most vocally criticized by this group. Understanding the history of these divisions is also a way of understanding post-independence politics and the constitution of civil society.

An interesting turn in post-independence politics has been the self-reflection of these former students who have opened up on a discussion of feeling ‘tricked’ by the leaders of the clandestine movement who captured their youthful energies but were unable to be recompensed after independence.

Now splits and re-splinters are the political norm, among senior as well as younger leaders. The 2006 socio-political and security crisis which saw the disintegration of the police also signalled a major schism within the civil society. These splinters, re-splinters – and reunions – are a major characteristic of the Timorese political climate.

Conclusion

If and when Gusmão decides to withdraw from leadership, will he continue in a senior ministerial role or in a proposed advisory council broadly referred to as the Conselho dos Katuas (Council of [Male] Elders)? The latter option, consisting of a council with Ramos-Horta, Alkatiri Lu Olo, Carrascalao and Lere in (according to Ramos-Horta) “conducting supervision and monitoring of the behaviour of the new generation of leaders in order to safeguard the national interest” (Tempo Semanal Online 2013), is widely cited in Timor-Leste as an option for future politics.

Only one thing is clear: Timor’s guerilla history is just as heavy a burden upon the young generation as it has been on its older generation. The country’s next leaders may not necessarily be any less “prone to political problems rooted in feuds and rivalries of the distant past”. They have also the added disadvantage of struggling to gain legitimacy in a political environment where senior leaders continue to be associated with political authority.

What they do have is a strong tradition of activism and democracy-building, first through their involvement in the clandestine movement and with Indonesia’s pro-democracy movement and later in the independent nation’s civil society organisations. Capitalising on this legacy of democratic participation and activism might in time benefit their transition into a new generation of leadership in Timor-Leste.

The authors thank Hugo Fernandez for his critical insights.

Angie Bexley is a Research Associate in Anthropology, School of Culture, History and Language, ANU College of Asia Pacific

Maj Nygaard-Christensen is a postdoctoral researcher at the Department of Culture and Society, Aarhus University.

Their co-edited book, Ethnography and Development Fieldwork in Timor-Leste, will be published next year by NIAS press.

Myanmar’s Muslim mosaic and the politics of belonging | New Mandala

Myanmar’s Muslim mosaic and the politics of belonging | New Mandala

 

MELISSA CROUCH, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR, 

4 NOVEMBER 2014

Good morning and thank you for the opportunity to be here. The Southeast Asian Human Rights Network is an incredibly important initiative that brings together both advocates and scholars to discuss pressing issues in the region. I think it can set an agenda for future research in terms of the key human rights concerns that affect the region.

In setting this agenda, one of the most important choices that we face is the topics that we choose for scholarship and advocacy. I want to make an argument today for why we need more scholars to choose to study Islam in Myanmar, the gaps that they need to fill and the broader contribution this could make to discussions on the human rights of Muslims in Myanmar.

One reason that the Muslim communities of Myanmar now need to be understood by both the West and by countries in Asia is due to the large scale migration that has taken place. There has been significant irregular migration of Muslims, especially the Rohingya, to parts of South Asia including Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, and even as far as parts of the Middle East, particularly Saudi Arabia, and to Southeast Asia, including Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia.

Some have made their way as asylum seekers, or as recognised refugees through the United Nations High Commission for Refugees, to Western countries including the United States and Australia. My own experience since 2007 has been with the Burmese community in Melbourne, where there are a handful of Anglo-Burman and Muslim families, who fled Burma in the 1960s and 1970s; 8888 generation activists and their families who came to Australia in the 1990s; Burmese Muslims and other refugees from Karen State who have arrived since 2005; and since 2013, Rohingya asylum seekers who were detained at one of Australia’s off-shore processing centres until their claims for asylum were recognised.

We need to see this diversity inherent in Myanmar’s population, and this includes within the Muslim communities. How do we begin to capture the diversity and richness of Myanmar’s Muslim mosaic? Central to the politics of belonging is how Muslims define themselves. Let me take the 2014 census as an example of how Muslims are seeking to redefine their identity.

International commentary on the census primarily focused on the categories the government would use to mark religion and ethnicity, and specifically whether it would allow individuals to identify as ‘Rohingya’. But there was an absence of coverage of broader Muslim responses to the census. Observers failed to see the fierce discussion and debate within Muslim communities about what categories they wanted to use to define their religious and ethnic status in the census.

Many in the Burmese Muslim community were confused: they did not want to list their ethnicity as ‘Burman’, even if they identified as part Burman. This was because they felt that the ethnic category ‘Burman’ may be conflated by the government with ‘Buddhists’, and therefore overestimated the numbers of Buddhists. On the other hand, as Muslims who take pride in their ‘Burmeseness’ – both in terms of their ancestry as well as the use of Burmese language, clothing and culture – wanted recognition that they belong to Myanmar too.

As a compromise, some leaders from the Burmese Muslim community were advocating for the use of the term ‘Pathi’ Muslim. Here is where history is crucial: this is a term that was used during the period of the kings, and revived in the 1960s, in order to carve out specific recognition for this group. The term Pathi is today used in a broad sense to encompass Muslims of many different ethnic backgrounds in Myanmar, but particularly those with part-Burman ancestry.

From another perspective, some religious leaders from the Indian Muslim community issued a fatwa (Islamic legal opinion) to their community members to instruct them on how to list their identity in the census. They emphasised that Muslims should not be afraid to list their religious identity on the census. Some Indian Muslim leaders even argued that it was haram (forbidden) for a Muslim to fail to list their religion on the census.

Different debates again were held within the minority Shiite community, with some Islamic religious leaders from Yangon advising that they should list themselves as ‘Mogul Shia’ on the census, although some Muslim Shiite leaders from Mandalay disagreed. Like the Burmese Muslim resurrection of the term ‘Pathi’, the use of ‘Mogul Shiite’ was also an attempt to revert back to past categories – in this case the reference to Muslims who had migrated from the Mogul empire – in order to recreate and redefine their future as a community in Myanmar.

This brief insight into broader debates surrounding the 2014 census suggests that scholarship needs to go beyond debates about whether the term ‘Rohingya’ was used (not to diminish the importance of this issue), and recognise the broader discussions around how Muslims want to be identified by the state.

Let me turn now to identify several key themes in academic literature where glaring gaps need to be filled, and misconceptions and bias need to be addressed.The first theme is the history of Muslims in Myanmar.

There are three major phases in scholarship on the history of Islam in Myanmar: Muslims during the time of the Burmese kings; Muslims under colonial rule in Burma; and Muslims during the period of parliament democracy (1948-1962). We catch glimpses in scholarly literature of the important role some Muslim communities played during the time of the kings.Historians have referred in passing to Muslims who served the kings, and the mosques that were established during this period. Yet some historians have effectively written Muslims out of the history of Myanmar. As a scholar recently noted to me, a historian would not be taken seriously today if they wrote a history of the United States that excluded the Jews or the African American community. In the same way, we need to be critical of histories of Burma that have excluded Muslim communities.

The second theme is Muslim political engagement in Myanmar. Some Muslims have been active in the political arena and have made a vital contribution to national politics, yet this has not received sustained attention. Little has been written on the role of Muslims in public life since the 1960s, yet Muslims were politically active in key political moments, such as in 1988 when the Muslim community in Mandalay organised collective demonstrations and protests against the socialist regime. Studies on the positive contribution key Muslims have made to political life could contribute to shifting the current negative discourse that effectively excludes Muslims from national politics.

The third theme is Muslims in times of crisis. The key example here is research on the Rohingya that raises crucial issues of citizenship, statelessness, and irregular migration, although there is a need for rigorous academic engagement to informadvocacy efforts (such as the work of Nausheen Anwar).

Another example is the perceived sense of crisis in relation to inter-religious marriage and the position of Burmese Buddhist women. The literature on ‘women’ in Myanmar is narrow as it has generally focused on Burman and/or Buddhist women, or at least ‘non-Muslim’ women. It has been assumed that inter-religious marriage primarily takes place between a Burmese woman and a Muslim man, which even if this was the case in the past is not necessarily the case today. We need scholars who can contextualise today’s debate on inter-religious marriage. For example, the 1954 law the allowed women to divorce their Muslim husband was actually introduced by Minister for Justice U Khin Maung Latt, who was Muslim, in response to the social need to allow Burmese women (who had been married to Indian Muslim men who were forced to flee Burma) to dissolve their marriage because of the difficulties women face obtaining a divorce under Islamic law. Yet there is no evidence of such a social crisis today, and such perspectives need to challenge the stereotypes that dominate contemporary debates.

The fourth theme is the practise of Islam among the Muslim communities of Myanmar. Most Muslims in Myanmar are Sunni Muslims of the Hanafi school of law, although some follow the Shafi school of law. Muslims therefore have more in common with communities in South Asia, compared to Muslim communities in Southeast Asia. There are almost no studies to date on the beliefs and practises of these Muslim groups. This is despite the fact that Islamic personal law is recognised by the state and that Muslims can go to the court to have family matters decided in accordance with this law. We must not dismiss Islamic law in Myanmar as ‘artificial’, but rather seriously consider what it means for Muslims today.

To conclude, the Muslims of Myanmar clearly constitute an understudied area of research for Burma Studies, Islamic Studies and Asian Studies more broadly. I want to suggest that future scholarship in this area must do two things in particular.

First, we need to displace Buddhism from its privileged place in the field of Burma Studies. There is a clear disconnect between the way we view Islam and Buddhism. Buddhism, I would suggest, has been protected, idealised and shielded from scholarly criticism for too long. I am not suggesting that Buddhism is not an important part of the study of Myanmar. On the contrary, just as Islam is critical to understanding the Indonesian local context, or Catholicism is vital to the study of the Philippines, Buddhism is clearly a central part of the study of Myanmar.

Yet we must be willing to reject the rose-tinted glasses with which the West often views Buddhism, in contrast to the perception of Islam as a violent religion. We must reject perpetuating the stereotype that Islam is inherently ‘bad’ and ‘violent’ and that in contrast Buddhism is ‘peaceful’, ‘non-violent’, and ‘good’. We must recognise that the tendency for violence can arise in any religion, including among those who identify with Buddhism or who seek to use Buddhism as a convenient rallying point. The evidence we have suggests that it is Buddhists who are the main cause of violence against Muslims in Myanmar.

The second aspect is related more broadly to the study of Islam in Asia. For too long Muslims in Myanmar have been overlooked, ignored and forgotten in discussions and debates on Islam in both South Asia and Southeast Asia. We must stop acting as if Islam in Myanmar is peripheral and irrelevant, or an anomaly that does not really fit. Rather, we must begin to see the potential for the study of Muslim communities in Myanmar to offer fresh insights and generate new knowledge, as something of a ‘crossroads’ for Islam between South Asia and Southeast Asia.

The opportunity is there for scholars from a wide range of disciplines to begin undertaking this task. There is a need for historians who are willing to do the hard work of reconsidering historical sources and where possible discovering new ones. There is a need for ethnographers and anthropologists to spend time in the field to get to know these Muslim communities in order to construct rich ethnographies of contemporary community dynamics. There is a need for religious studies and Islamic studies scholars to take the study of Islam in Myanmar seriously.

I could go on. The point I want to make is this: there is a need for an informed and scholarly response to contemporary issues facing the Muslim communities of Myanmar. Scholars can play a vital role in informing these human rights issues by addressing some of the obvious bias and gaps in existing literature. I hope some of you make take up this challenge.

Melissa Crouch is a Research Fellow at the Centre for Asian Legal Studies, NUS. In December 2014 she is moving to the Law Faculty, the University of New South Wales, Sydney. This speech is adapted from an edited book on Islam and the State in Myanmar: Muslim-Buddhist Relations and the Politics of Belonging (forthcoming 2015).

Note: This talk was given at the Southeast Asian Human Rights Network Conference on 15-16 October 2014 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. One of the co-panelists, Pak Ulil Abshar Abdullah who is well-known as a proponent of liberal Islam, was banned from entering Malaysia, but was able to give his presentation via skype. On the same day, the Malaysian Bar Council conducted a peaceful protest in support of law professor Azmi Sharom (one of the organisers of the conference), to protest against the sedition charges he faces. A video recording of the session will appear on Libertv shortly.

Will Myanmar’s reforms continue after 2015? | New Mandala

Will Myanmar’s reforms continue after 2015? | New Mandala

TREVOR WILSON, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR, 

 3 NOVEMBER 2014

As Myanmar prepares for its first general election since its political reforms began under President Thein Sein in 2011, observers are wondering about the prospects for continued political, social and economic policies after 2015. Whatever the actual results of the elections, domestically, the impacts on political and social change beyond 2015 should be extensive, and the institutional and psychological effects on Myanmar will be equally profound.

Not surprisingly, the extent of uncertainty about the near-term future, and especially about the political complexion of a post-2015 government worries some people. Nothing about the elections is yet decided, for example: the date (possibly November 2015); the parties (with amalgamations and realignments still occurring); the candidates (Aung San Suu Kyi will stand for the elections, but under the present constitution cannot be a candidate for president; President Thein Sein originally said he would not re-contest, but may be having second thoughts); and the policies (official campaigning will not commence until just before the elections). It cannot be assumed that many more details about policies will emerge before the elections as parties and candidates concentrate on their electoral preparations.

To some extent, the trajectory and direction of current reforms can be expected to continue. The main reason for this is the widespread expectations that have been generated around the promise of political and policy change. Of course, the current reform agenda still contains much unfinished business – educational reform, for example, is just starting, with the passage only in September 2014 of the new university law. Media reforms and procedures governing political activities (protests, strikes, etc) are still being refined. Nevertheless, most issues have already attracted extensive public debate, with active participation from opposition parties, including (since April 2012) the National League for Democracy (NLD), so to a considerable extent the views of different parties on many issues are already known, so the risk of unexpected developments should be low.

In other important areas, such as rule of law and judicial system reform, however, change has not yet really begun. Indeed, public discourse over what is needed or what is feasible has not really advanced far at all. Myanmar’s politicians are perhaps being cautious about committing themselves too specifically too early on sensitive or complicated issues, and we may not see significant developments between now and the elections. Yet it seems clear from the amount of public manifestation we have already witnessed – much more than ever before in modern Burmese history – that the people are hungry for more change.

Indeed, in the past three years, Myanmar has benefited from more discourse about public policy issues than ever before. In most key sectors, major reviews of policies and priorities occurred during 2012–13. Such issues have attracted active participation from opposition parties, in the parliament and through the media, and through workshops and regular consultations, with more contestation of ideas than has ever been permitted in the past. This is not to say that priorities and policies have been adequately discussed in all cases, or that the present opposition parties would necessarily be prepared to accept all these programs proceeding after 2015. But it is probably unlikely that the proposals outlined in all of these plans would be radically overturned. In these circumstances, it would be surprising if most, if not all, the momentum towards reform were not maintained.

On the other hand, there are plenty of indicators already in place directly affecting the nature of the government agenda beyond 2015, and these allow some predictions as to what might be expected, no matter the type of government. Many examples can be found where policy and program priorities have been already set for beyond 2015. Most of these plans are likely to have bipartisan support (a new concept for Myanmar?) – at least in general terms, if not in the specifics. While some new plans might superficially resemble the centralised planning Myanmar engaged in in the past, since they have been drawn up in the reform period they should reflect current expectations and aspirations. Many of the new plans have already been promised international funding for a 4-5 year period, so the incentives are strongly for maintaining such medium-term programs.

Examples of some of the long-term plans already approved are:

• The first post-2011 Five-Year Plan (2011–16) (targeted towards ‘People Centred Development’, announced in September 2013 by Minister for National Planning & Economic Development, Dr Kan Zaw;
• The long-term National Comprehensive Development Plan (2011–13) (With four pillars of reforms – political, economic, public administration and private sector development, the country is speeding up to reach its goals within the time period,” announced in 2013 by Minister for National Planning, Dr Kan Zaw);
• Basic Framework for Economic & Social Development (2012), Approved by the National Planning Commission;
• Various sectoral plans such as: the Health Workforce Strategic Plan (2012–17), Tourism Master Plan (2013–20), Comprehensive Education Sector Review (CESR) (2014–20), a National Strategic Plan For Women’s Advancement (2013–2022); a Myanmar National Spatial Development Plan (2012), etc.

In addition, and importantly, in the many areas where international assistance is required to ensure sufficient capacity, a number of international agencies have already promised funding for some fundamental reforms over a longer term extending beyond 2015, such as:

• The United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) has developed a comprehensive rule of law program (2013–15) under its Democratic Governance mandate, in conjunction with Myanmar Government agencies and the non-government sector. The Coordinating Committee on the UNDP’s Rule of Law Centres is chaired by Daw Aung Sung Suu Kyi. The program aims specifically to strengthen rule of law and access to justice over the long-term.
• The World Bank has approved a multi-year (2015–17) Ayeyarwady Integrated River Basin Management Project to be implemented by the Water Resources Department to be funded by a loan of USD100 million.
• The Inle Lake Conservation 5-Year Action Plan (2015–2016 to 2019–2020) led by the Ministry of Environmental Conservation and Forestry, in collaboration with Shan State Government and with technical support from the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP).

It would be unlikely that any new Myanmar Government after 2015 would object to these programs whose funding is already guaranteed and whose design had already been open for debate.

At another level, after the elections there will also be continuity in Myanmar’s formal integration into the ASEAN Economic Community from 2015. This means that many elements of Myanmar’s integration into the regional economy can be foreseen, and are on a reasonably predictable path for the next few years at least. This is not to say that beyond 2015 Myanmar will not continue to experience many domestic economic policies of its own, but external policies – such as trade and investment related policies –will continue to be aligned with agreed ASEAN standards.

No assessment of future trends in Myanmar can ignore the ongoing serious sources of internal conflict and tension, which in some cases have intensified since 2011 and for which solutions are not necessarily yet in sight. These include communal conflict between Buddhist and Muslims, the unresolved Rohingya problem, and the instances of running insurgencies with the Kachin and some Shan groups, which have not been amenable to improvement through the Myanmar Government’s peace process for negotiations with all ethnic groups. Such problems remain major political risks for Myanmar for the medium-term, and will affect attitudes to Myanmar inside and outside the country. However, although their continuation significantly complicates Myanmar’s political transition, it does not necessarily mean reform will stop.

The single potentially most worrying element of political risk is the possibility that the broad political “understanding” between the current government and the army on the one hand and all the opposition groups on the other might collapse. This scenario is especially fraught if it extends to the army being so frustrated that they are tempted to stage a military coup. At the moment, this “understanding” is only sustained by personal commitments on the part of President Thein Sein and Aung San Suu Kyi in particular. However, it enables the sort of unprecedented “reconciliation” meeting between political leader that was convened on 30–31 October 2014, at the instigation of Thein Sein, and that can be crucial for avoidance of outright conflict.

Broadly, the period after 2015 will be critical in bringing about the next, arguably urgent, stages of political reform, if Myanmar is to achieve the democratic consolidation it now needs. This will include embedding a form of practical federalism, with real decentralisation of government authority, real contestation of public policies, and real participation of regional populations. But it should also encompass a gradual withdrawal of the army from all but national security responsibilities.

Trevor Wilson is a Visiting Fellow in the Department of Political and Social Change at the Australian National University. He previously served as Australian Ambassador to Myanmar.