Assess Lee Kuan Yew? Which one? -- New Mandala

Assess Lee Kuan Yew? Which one? -- New Mandala
MICHAEL BARR, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR – 25 MARCH 2015

To be both fair and informative in writing an assessment of Lee Kuan Yew requires a level of detachment that seems to be uncommon. Certainly his devotees, whether in Singapore or overseas, don’t usually come close to achieving it as they echo versions of Lee’s own story of how he took the country ‘from Third World to First’, often taking umbrage at those who are more critical. For those of us who are, indeed, more critical, the temptation is to focus on the Lee Kuan Yew who engaged in ‘brass knuckle politics’, and ignore the achievements. Many of us have friends who have suffered brutality at his hands – or who have been intimidated or suffered discrimination by the system he put in place. It is not easy to put such personal connections aside and give credit where credit is due. Yet despite these burdens, I am pleased to say that this is a temptation in which critics have not generally indulged for a couple of decades now.

At the time of writing it is now a few days since Lee died and while the devotees have been as adoring and banal as one might fear, his critics have been consistent in recognising his formidable achievements. Their (our) record of even-handedness in this regard is only partly inspired by respect for the dead and for his family. Rather it is a recognition of the complexity of this man. As much as some of us might prefer not to articulate it, he was, in all the conventional senses of the use of the term, ‘a great man’ with a long list of achievements to his name.

His critics might (and do) quibble that he did not do this on his own; that he was the leader of a team of talented men (women generally did not need to apply). And this is indisputable.

We complain that the self-serving narrative of his success would have us believe that he built it from ‘a fetid swamp’ (to quote Greg Sheridan in The Australian a few days ago) and we know full well that this is just plain wrong. He and his colleagues had a lot of valuable material to work with: much of it a legacy of British rule (e.g. the administrative system, the Naval Base and English as the lingua franca); some a gift of nature (such as the port); or the luck of geography (being on the Straits of Malacca, near a rising East Asia).

We complain about a long list of seemingly unintended consequences for those who have been left behind by Singapore’s success or crushed by the dominant elite, and we rightly fear that many of these consequences are not as unintended as they appear at first glance – that they are, in fact, implicitly intended and explicitly accepted as part of the deal.

Yet I cannot think of a single critic who denies his record as a successful builder and who doesn’t feel obliged to put on record some recognition of his achievements. I just wish that those of his devotees who know better could find the honesty to recognise his failings so that more casual followers of public affairs would have a chance of reaching a more balanced perspective.

With this preamble behind me, I would now like to reproduce an interview I did with Zarina Hussain of the BBC last week, a few days before Lee died. Zarina used half-a-dozen sentences of the interview in a piece titled ‘How Lee Kuan Yew engineered Singapore’s economic miracle’, which was published on the BBC website, but most of it has not been reported. I have just tidied up some of the grammar.

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Zarina Hussain (ZH):      In your view, what’s been the best economic policies from Lee Kuan Yew’s years as prime minister, which have vastly contributed to Singapore’s economic success and how have they raised Singapore’s profile from a third-world country to a first-class player it is today?

Michael D Barr (MDB):   Lee Kuan Yew was no economist, and the real innovative thinking done on the economic front was done by others. Lee had the good sense to follow good advice, and the political ability and will to implement good advice, even if it was unpopular in the short term and brought a lot of immediate hardship. Not everything went well. His government created an unnecessary recession in the 1980s when they suddenly jacked up wages and salaries by 20%, but they got a lot more right than wrong.

If Lee personally had any direct economic initiatives that he can be said to really ‘own’ it is in positioning little Singapore to capitalise on the advantages of its strategic position at the southern end of the Straits of Malacca and near East Asia. This was critical. It also rested on some lucky timing. If Singapore had gained independence and Lee had been Prime Minister at a time when either Japan or China – particularly China – was already at the peak of its game, i.e. if either had already ‘risen’, there would have been not such an important place for Singapore.

Singapore had the chance to get a terrific leg up by being able to turn to capitalism three decades before China did. Without that head start, independent Singapore would have been nothing more than an entrepôt – a middle man between East Asia and the Middle East/Europe/India – just like it had been as a colony. It still would have been a remarkably important entrepôt because it would still have been sitting astride the Straits of Malacca, through which most of the world’s shipping passes. But it would never have been able to develop a manufacturing base or position itself as a financial hub.

But the fact is that these stars were aligned for Singapore and Lee Kuan Yew, more than anyone else, recognised this and set out to capitalise on it. Malaysia and Indonesia had the same opportunities but were not able to capitalise on them. Singapore under Lee’s leadership took trick after trick, and sucked all the strategic advantage of being in the Straits of Malacca to itself.

Hence Lee has always taken a very personal and direct interest in the Port of Singapore, Changi Airport, and Singapore Airlines. He intervened very directly to see that these were built up and maintained, because they were the key to capitalising on Singapore’s strategic position. Lee was also personally responsible for correctly foreseeing the rise of China in the early 1980s before anyone else did and positioning Singapore to take advantage of it – just as he had done everything he could in the 1960s to take advantage of the rise of Japan, when this was a deeply unpopular thing to be talking about in Singapore and Southeast Asia because of Japan’s war record. It is not a bad record, all in all.

ZH:      And in your view, what have been the worst economic policies, which ones are you most critical of, which in your view, have led to setbacks to the Singapore economy?

MDB:   It depends on when you consider he bowed out. If we only consider the period in which he was Prime Minister, then his greatest economic failing was a political one: his failure to keep Singapore in Malaysia and to turn Malaysia into Singapore’s hinterland.

But leaving this aside – and also acknowledging that he turned Singapore into a stand-alone economy that flourished without Malaysia and streaked ahead of it – the greatest economic failure of his prime ministership was the recession of the 1980s, which was totally government-made and caused a lot of pain.

I would also like to point to a lot of pain that was caused by the social unfairness of a lot of his government’s economic initiatives. There were a lot of economic losers in Singapore – especially among those with poor English or no English.  But he wouldn’t see this as a failure. He saw it as just a side-effect to be dealt with politically. And this is what he did, very effectively.

Perhaps his biggest long term failure was the inadequate steps taken to move the Singapore economy out of its 1970s mode of export-oriented industrialisation, and into new models that relied less on cheap labour, cheap land and cheap exports – into a knowledge and service-based economy with a vibrant external investment arm. They did try to do this, and Lee was behind these efforts, but they were hamstrung by the political model that Lee had created that relied upon tight government control of almost everything – and tight family control. His family sits at the heart of the engine of Singapore economy. Lee and his colleagues and successors could not bring themselves to loosen up their tight control of either the politics or the economy. Sure, Singapore invests heaps overseas and receives lots of investment, but the government is the gatekeeper at every front. Hence under the system he set up and managed, government investment arms have become major sources of domestic political patronage and they have had to carry some appallingly bad investment and management decisions, the most spectacular of which have been the direct responsibility of Lee Kuan Yew’s close relatives!

ZH:      What’s your picture of Singapore post-LKY? Will there be an economic divide, will that shatter investors’ confidence in Singapore?

MDB:   Politically Singapore has been in a post-LKY era since his son pushed him out of Cabinet in 2011. Even for five or more years before that Lee has been a marginal figure in real political terms. I would have to say that since about 2005 or 2006 the achievements and mistakes of the government have been owned increasingly by Lee Hsien Loong rather than Lee Kuan Yew. And yes, part of this record has been increasing disparity between rich and poor, the squeezing of the lower middle class and the working class, and the huge error of drastically increasing the immigration intake, beginning in 2005. These decisions are all connected and at the heart of them were people close to Lee Kuan Yew and who were effectively appointed by Lee – and Lee vocally supported these decisions – but to be fair, Lee himself was only passively and selectively involved by 2005 and 2006 and really can’t be blamed. These mistakes are really down to his successors.

ZH:      How do you see Singapore in the next 10 years, without the presence of Lee Kuan Yew in the shadows?

MDB:   Unless something drastic happens there will be a steady loosening up and fragmentation of the system he put in place. I don’t foresee a sudden shift, but gradually the political system and the economic regime he put in place are going to unwind and become less and less effective. This is partly because of changing circumstances over which Singapore has no or little control, but also because Lee has left in place a broken system of elite regeneration.

In short, his system only works with someone as smart and ruthless as Lee Kuan Yew at the top. My fear is that his successors might be able to bring themselves to be as ruthless as Lee, but not as smart. This would be the worst of all worlds.

A better scenario would see a more flexible and open political system that is less ruthless and has much more public accountability. This would enable the system to work without finding a new Lee Kuan Yew. I see this as being critical for the future of Singapore as a nice place to live and work, since it is perfectly obvious that there is no one, including the current prime minister, capable of filling Lee Kuan Yew’s shoes.

Associate Professor Michael D. Barr from the School of International Studies, Flinders University is the author of ‘The Ruling Elite of Singapore: Networks of Power and Influence’ and ‘Lee Kuan Yew: The Beliefs behind the Man.’

Afghanistan: The role of social media in bringing justice for Farkhunda | Asian Correspondent

Afghanistan: The role of social media in bringing justice for Farkhunda | Asian Correspondent
Michelle Tolson Mar 27, 2015 

Afghan women chant slogans during a protest in downtown Kabul Tuesday demanding justice for a woman who was beaten to death by a mob after being falsely accused of burning a Quran last week. Pic: AP.

Though now based in Kabul, I learned about Farkhunda’s death on social media — as many people did both in and outside Afghanistan. Pictures of the tragic and shocking event had been posted on a Facebook’s security page used by Afghans in and out of Kabul to navigate suicide bombs, protests, shootings, traffic accidents and explosions in their city commute. These postings, which include pictures, eye-witness accounts and on the spot news stories (once media teams make it to the site), also are filled with discussion and venting about the state of security in Afghanistan. The death of the 27-year-old Afghan woman living in Kabul came on the eve of Nowruz, or the Afghan New Year, which for many also heralds the beginning of the fighting season for insurgents who target government and international organizations. But the Taliban were not connected to this case.

Farkhunda was killed by a mob for allegedly burning the Quran, which is forbidden under Islamic law. While at first photos of her bloodied face were shared on social media under the headings such as “a woman killed for burning the Quran” to justify her death, the tide of public opinion quickly changed.

“When initial reports came in, some people on social media expressed approval for the murder. But as details began to come in, including videos of the brutality, the lackluster response of the police, Farkhunda’s family’s comments and Farkhunda’s background in religious studies, then those attitudes changed,” Ahmad Shuja, a Research Associate for Human Rights Watch, who relies on social media tools for his work, told Asian Correspondent.

In the instance of the post that I initially observed, which has since been removed, an Afghan had passionately pointed out that he did not see any videos of her burning the Quran, only videos of her killing. And it was this that turned the tide of public opinion against her killers.

Shuja points out some heartening themes in the tragic case. “More people began showing outrage and demanded justice for Farkhunda, including demands that the police be investigated for not doing enough to save her.”

On the many Facebook pages dedicated to “Justice for Farkhunda,” still images have been posted from videos, showing point by point stages in the violence against her, which included being beaten, jumped on, run over by a car and then thrown on the banks of the Kabul River and burnt. These graphic images were used as evidence to prosecute her killers and show the lack of protection afforded to her against a mob of hundreds.

Yet, easily visible in the disturbing videos of the attack are the bystanders filming her with their smart phones. An estimated 1 million Afghans have access to the internet according to a 2012 USAID report on the ICT industry. Another report shows mobile phone penetration estimated at 71 percent.

Asian Correspondent asked Shuja if the many bystanders filming her death possibly spurned on the violence.

“Of course, the people should have done everything to stop the lynching. But the clips that came from cell phones of those witnessing the lynching, even if filmed by people who supported the violence, helped convince Afghan netizens that a great injustice was done. These same clips were also used on national television, which spread the horror of the incident to places not normally within reach of Facebook. Together, the clips highlighted several issues and created some debate around them: the non-existent mental-psychological services, violence against women, issues with the rule of law and the need for the government to prioritize the protection of the rights of every citizen.”

This debate went far and wide, reaching a range of demographics in Afghanistan. Afghans both in the country and abroad have expressed their opinion. “Justice for Farkhunda” events have been created and shared on Facebook in the past week both across Afghanistan and by Afghans living abroad in Canada, the UK, and United States.

Even the Taliban have publicly condemned her killers.

“It is now proven that it was a conspiracy by a few individuals,” stated Zabihullah Mujahid, the Taliban spokesman. “The Islamic Emirate condemns those who hatched this conspiracy to misuse Quran for killing an innocent human being. We also convey condolences to her family.”

This misuse, according to Karim Haidari, an Afghan correspondent for the BBC who had recently visited the Shah-Du-Shamshaira shrine where her death was instigated, revolves around the selling of charms, which Farkhunda publicly challenged. Haidari wrote this is “a common sight” at the shrine.

“Women come to ask such men for charms or amulets to help deal with a family problem – to bring good health to their husbands, to keep their sons safe in the army, or to find good husbands for their daughters.” He also points out that this practice is a livelihood for “poorly educated mullahs”, though there is an increasing criticism of the practice on social media.

“Farkhunda, the woman who was killed in Kabul last week, was one of these critics,” Haidari wrote. It is alleged that the mullah connected with her death falsely accused her of burning the Quran to divert attention from his charm-selling business.

“You can see the clarifications and apologies issued on Facebook by several government officials, including a Ministry of Interior spokesperson and a deputy minister,” explains Shuja. “The turnaround in public attitude about Farkhunda and the senseless mob lynching was very interesting and encouraging.”

Shuja points out that the Ministry of Interior “is crowdsourcing on Facebook for information on the perpetrators, videos, etc. They have a sponsored post to this effect.”

Shuja identifies several important points in which social media has helped bring justice to Farkhunda. Suspects have been identified through social media using video footage and photos, but also through social media posts bragging about the killing.

“We know that police has relied to a significant degree on the videos posted on social media in its investigations,” he explained.

Social media is widely used as a platform for discussion in Afghanistan. As a popular means of expressing opinion, it has helped identify government officials who initially supported her death.

“Social media platforms, in particular Facebook, were also used by government officials to condone the lynching, even to justify it, in the immediate aftermath of the incident. In this way, social media has been important in identifying government officials who aired irresponsible and negligent comments that need to be investigated and, where appropriate, the officials need to be disciplined. In at least one case, the official has been dismissed. But more needs to be done.”

While none of this will bring Farkhunda back to her family, it might help prevent future cases by showing that the Afghan society is not only watching but is mobilized to do something about religiously incited mob violence. However, Shuja cautions against too much speed in the investigation and encourages the careful following of Afghan law.

“Under Afghan law, everyone, no matter how egregious the crime they are accused of, is entitled to a fair trial,” he explains. “One aspect of the collective outrage in this case, as in the case of Paghman gang rape, is that there’s a tremendous force of public opinion on the police, the prosecutors and the judiciary.” With the highly publicized rape case, four women were raped at gun-point outside of Kabul by men wearing police uniforms. Five suspects were hanged within weeks of the crime, calling into question the validity of the investigation.

“We hope that, unlike in the previous case, this doesn’t affect the ability of law enforcement to do their best to offer a fair trial to the alleged perpetrators.”

So far, 28 people have been arrested in connection to Farkhunda’s death and 13 police officers suspended from their posts.

Lee Kuan Yew’s political legacy – a matter of trust | New Mandala

Lee Kuan Yew’s political legacy – a matter of trust | New Mandala

BRIDGET WELSH, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR, 

24 MARCH 2015

As Singaporeans mourn their charismatic leader Lee Kuan Yew (LKY), whose political acumen, drive and ideas defined the young nation and played a major role in its successful development, attention turns to assessment. Moments of transition always bring reflection, and this is especially the case with the passing of the man who both personified and defined Singapore. The fact that LKY has passed on in the pivotal year of the nation celebrating the country’s 50^th anniversary only serves to reinforce the need for review.

There is good reason to acknowledge the accolades of a man who has been labeled as one of Asia’s most influential leaders. Most of the media, especially in the government-linked media of Singapore, lay out these reasons well. LKY was a force to be reckoned with, a complex man who made no excuses in his views and was direct in stating his opinions. He trusted few, but chose to collaborate with those who shared his hard work ethic with talent and ideas to develop the busy port of Singapore into a safe dynamic cosmopolitan city-state. He will rightly be remembered for not only putting Singapore on the world map, but as a model that is admired and respected by many the world over.

LKY was a man who was respected, but importantly not loved by all. He used fear to stay in power. From the inception of Singapore’s independence – when it was expelled from Malaysia – the ideas of ‘vulnerability’ and ‘survival’ were used to justify decisions. He promoted the idea that Singapore had to have a strong armed forces, requiring national service in 1967, to protect itself as a nation surrounded by the perceived threat of its Malay neighbors. The enemies outside were matched by those inside, who had to be displaced and in some cases detained.  Among the most controversial were the arrests of men labeled as communists in Operation Coldstore of 1963 and Operation Spectrum of 1987 (a.k.a. the ‘Marxist Conspiracy’) that targeted social activists who promoted greater social equality and were seen as challenging LKY’s People’s Action Party’s (PAP) authority. Two other round-ups occurred with Operation Pecah (Split) in 1966, which coincided with the year of the arrest of Dr. Chia Thye Poh who was held under detention and restriction until 1997, and the arrests of the ‘Eurocommunists’ in 1976-77. Many others from opposition politics, business to academia faced the wrath for challenging and questioning LKY, his PAP and the politicized decisions of its institutions, castigated in the government controlled media, removed from position, forced to live in exile and, in some cases, sued and bankrupted. In the relatively small city state, it did not take much to instill a political culture of fear by making a few examples.

A main point of contention goes that LKY sparred with Western critics over democracy and human rights, with LKY dismissing these ideas as not part of ‘Asia’s values.’ The debate was never about differences in values, but the justification of holding power in the hands of a few for nearly five decades. Singapore’s political model is at its foundation about the elites, with Lee, his family and loyalists at the core. In recent years, reports in Singapore have highlighted a growing trust deficit in the PAP government that LKY founded. The real deficit that defined LKY and became embedded within the party he molded is that he never fundamentally trusted his people.

The group that received the special focus of LKY’s distrust was the Malay population, who now comprise over 10% of the country’s population. Even as LKY matured as a politician, he continued to reinforce negative stereotypes of this community that rioted over their grievances in 1950, 1964 and 1969 when LKY was in his early years in power, and with whom he expressed hard judgments about their religion, Islam. This distrust was shaped in part by a worldview that was not only shaped by his early experiences in political life but had sharp racial cleavages, drew from eugenics and believed in a clear social order. Part of LKY’s outlook prioritized women as homemakers and disparaged single women who opted not to marry or follow a career – another group similar to Malays that faced discrimination within LKY’s Singapore.

In the heyday of Singapore’s economic miracle, the 1970s through the 1990s, the LKY PAP government worked to win over the trust of its people. It did so by providing for the basic welfare of its citizens, with an impressive housing program, affordable food prices, a living wage, job security, safety, education and opportunity. This involved hard work of LKY’s founding team of PAP cadre, as well as the sacrifice of ordinary Singaporeans. It also reflected the wise realization of LKY that fear was not enough to stay in power. There needed to be a healthy balance of deliverable. The LKY decades of economic growth translated into real rewards – at least through the 1980s.

Singapore’s trajectory of sharing the benefits of development has followed a pattern of diminishing returns, as the country now boasts the highest per capita of millionaires and is the world’s most expensive city, with a large number its citizens unable to save and afford the lifestyle promised in the nation’s early narrative. As much as LKY deserves credit for Singapore’s success, he also should be seen to be part of today’s shortcomings. Elitism has breed arrogance, and a distance between those in power and those governed. Most of the new leaders of the PAP have come from subsequent wealthy generations that do not fully understand the sacrifices of the country’s working poor – shocking in number – and the obstacles elderly and young people face in an era of high costs. Years of following the LKY’s example and being told that the PAP is made up of the ‘best and brightest’ has imbued a mindset of superiority, a lack of empathy, and frequent dismissal of difference in engagement with the public.

While LKY’s son Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong has worked to win over support, he has suffered consecutive drops of support in the two elections he has led since he assumed office, failing to match the 75% popular vote height of the predecessor Goh Chok Tong in 2001. Unlike in the information controlled era of his father, Lee Hsien Loong is not able to effectively censor and limit public discussions in today’s wired and connected Singapore.  His recent expansion of social services and incentive packages that provide small sums for pensioners, modest support for health and childcare and tax reductions for the middle class are a drop in the bucket for the growing grievances and costs faced by ordinary citizens.

This has to do in part with the challenge Lee Hsien Loong faces in dealing with his father’s legacy. In 2007 LKY claimed that he governed without ideology. This was not quite true. The ideological foundation of LKY’s pragmatic tenure was materialism. This obsession with money, saving it and forcing the public to save it in rigid regulated ways, assuring that government funds were only given to those ‘worthy’ and loyal and defining the value of the performance of his government ministers by pegging their salaries to growth numbers comprised the lifeblood of LKY’s state. With annual ‘bonuses’ to perform, there is a focus on short-term gains rather than long-term investments. The irony is that it is not even clear how much money the government of Singapore and its linked companies actually have. Singapore is one of the few countries in the world that does not follow the International Monetary Fund guidelines on its budget reporting. It also does not transparently report losses in many of the financial accounts of the government linked companies (GLCs). Lee Hsien Loong has had to tackle head-on the ingrained pattern of limited government spending on social welfare and services, as he attempts to move away from his father’s restrictive parsimony and secretive mindset that originated from a lack of trust in people.

Lee Hsien Loong also has to address the problems of a government dominated economy. Singapore Inc. emerged out of the political economy LKY put in place, with the government and its linked companies controlling over half the country’s economy and undercutting almost all domestic business. LKY did not trust local capital, and did not want to strengthen an alternative power center to his own. As such, Singapore’s economy is not a genuinely competitive one. It favors big business, especially property developers, and those allied with government rather than independent entrepreneurs. Those in the system have apparently disproportionately benefited from it, although the exact amounts and assets remain unknown. The accumulated assets of individuals remain hidden as the estate tax was removed in 2008. What is known is that workers have limited rights in the LKY-shaped political economy. A recent example is the sexual harassment bill passed in parliament that excludes employer liability. The harsh response to the bus driver strike in in 2012 is another. Much is made about the limited corruption of Singapore, but few appreciate that the country ranks high on the Economist crony-capitalism index, an important outgrowth of the government dominance of the economy. The ties between companies and government are close, at times with government and family members on their boards and a revolving door that never really closes.

Singapore’s economy also favors foreigners. LKY was to start this trend, with the appeal to outsiders for capital rather than a focus on domestic business. Foreigners may have been easier to engage, as they could always be kicked out. Foreign investment has been extremely important in Singapore’s growth numbers initially in manufacturing and later in services. To maintain global competitiveness, keep wages low and maintain high growth numbers, Singapore also turned to foreign labor – cheap workers to staff their construction sectors and to work as domestic help and foreign talent to bring in ideas and the occasional sports medal. This prioritization of outsiders has fostered resentment. When LKY assumed office he worked to force a nation, but with his passing many in Singapore feel the government he left behind is working for others and undermining the fabric of the nation. The crowded trains, strain on services and displacement of Singaporeans in the job market and advancement have angered many, who now see LKY’s legacy as one that in fact left many Singaporeans vulnerable and worried about survival.

No one can take away LKY’s contributions. He lived a long meaningful life, and shaped the lives of all Singaporeans. This does not mean that there is agreement on what he left behind. Singapore now faces the challenge of moving beyond LKY’s ideas and shaping a more promising future for all of its citizens. An integral part of this dynamic will be moving away from fear, promoting more effective policies for inclusion in the economy and society and building trust. It starts with placing more trust in Singaporeans.

It is arguably the latter that is the hardest. LKY lived in an era where societies trusted their leaders. He was given the benefit of the doubt. The PAP remains a relatively closed institution, with the distrust of those not inside deeply embedded. Today in the age of social media and instant messaging there is not as much leeway to work behind closed doors. There is an urgent need to forge genuine dialogue, connectivity and understanding that moves beyond materialism, and reignites the sense of belonging that LKY forged in his early years.

Singapore today has become a more politically divided nation, with those who strongly defend LKY’s incumbent government, die-hard opponents and the majority in the middle. As the country marks its 50^th year it moves toward a different narrative, the task at hand is to forge a new Singapore story, one in which LKY is a valued part of its past, but not a constraint on the dreams and aspirations of Singaporeans’ future.

Bridget Welsh is a Senior Research Associate of the Center for East Asia Democratic Studies of the National Taiwan University where she conducts research on democracy and politics in Southeast Asia.

Dissent and repression persist in Myanmar | New Mandala

Dissent and repression persist in Myanmar | New Mandala

TREVOR WILSON, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR, 

 17 MARCH 2015

Myanmar student protesters and nationalists shout slogans and wave flags during a demonstration supporting the student protests . Photo by AFP.

Recent news reports are telling the world that protests and repression of protesters persist in Myanmar. To some people, this looks as if Myanmar’s reforms are failing, or are doomed; it looks as if Myanmar’s political “transition” has not resulted in as much change as some observers claimed, and is not really going anywhere; it foreshadows the reversal of various liberalisations introduced during 2011–13 and the possible end of Myanmar’s “democratisation” such as it is; it also seems to bode badly for Myanmar first post-military regime general election at the end of 2015.

These latest developments raise more questions than answers.

What is the current political situation in Myanmar? How should the repressive actions of Myanmar’s law enforcement authorities, especially over the past two years, be interpreted? What sorts of response are most effective, either internally or externally, to protect against such repression? Will these acts of official repression really spell the end of Myanmar’s reforms? Can anything be done to reverse this downward trend and/or to consolidate reform processes already in place? Can Myanmar’s leaders re-position their political agenda to ensure that opportunities for further progress and improvement are not lost? And at a time when reforms and similar positive outcomes are fading or being overturned in so many other parts of the world, what is reasonable in terms of expectations or realistic hopes in the case of Myanmar?

During 2011–12, the current Myanmar government introduced a variety of political reforms such as freedom of association and freedom of expression, ended press censorship, permitted public demonstrations and protests, allowed trade unions, and tolerated opposition to illegal land grabs. Popular reactions were positive, quick and clear: ordinary Myanmar people frequently took to the streets to protest publicly; Myanmar newspapers regularly reported issues from the point of view of complainants, not necessarily objectively; public feelings often ran high, and violence was sometimes the result.

Not entirely surprisingly, Myanmar’s political system struggled to manage the extent of open dissent and disagreement that ensued. Political leaders and parties issued well-meaning statements, but found they sometimes had little impact on the real issues; Myanmar government agencies sometimes reacted harshly and in a heavy-handed way, often making matters worse; and members of the new Myanmar parliament sometimes seemed out of touch and unable to offer timely or lasting solutions. Resolution of serious ongoing conflict – such as the continuing insurgency in Kachin State in the north, the mistreatment of the Muslim Rohingya minority in the west, and the occasional eruption of inter-communal sectarian violence – sometimes seemed further away than ever, with few practical mechanisms available to resolve immediate differences or to overcome more deep-seated frictions. In general terms, the habits of collective restraint and purposeful collaboration employed in other situations seemed insufficient in the face of apparent systemic disintegration in Myanmar.

Specifically, the Myanmar Government’s peace negotiations process – under way since 2012 – seemed incapable of producing a final single settlement to which all parties could agree. Moreover, evidence of human rights abuses by the Myanmar army in insurgency areas and elsewhere continued to emerge. Some Myanmar leaders questioned whether the Myanmar Government was really committed to continuing reform, especially when some journalists were arrested in apparent crack-downs on freedom of expression and when breaches of land rights seemed to go unpunished. Trust was being eroded rather than restored.

In reality, the overall trajectory of reform in Myanmar continues, although some specific political reforms may have been implemented rather in the letter than in the spirit. Political leaders rightly worried about the potential impacts for the conduct of the general elections expected in late 2015, but still without a specific date or detailed procedures being announced. The situation was not helped by the Myanmar Government’s refusal to proceed with substantive constitutional change before the elections, or by their ongoing reluctance to allow opposition leader Daw Aung San Suu Kyi to be a candidate for the presidency.

International media reporting about Myanmar tends to focus on negative developments, influenced partly by activist campaigns, and by emerging evidence of over-reach by the Myanmar authorities. (This reporting did not always cover contributing causes, including protesters seeking to push law enforcement authorities as far as possible, or long-term historical tensions re-surfacing.) Frustrated domestic protesters sometimes seem to adopt tactics designed to force the Myanmar authorities to change, even though this might involve risks for protesters.

While communication between opposing political groups in Myanmar might not be promising, it has not broken down completely as has occurred in some other countries. Even as Myanmar police were criticised this month for cracking down on protesters, for example, Aung San Suu Kyi had meetings with Myanmar Government leaders. But, clearly, more effective action is urgently needed to lock in rule of law improvements that are essential for under-pinning sustainable nation-wide reforms and for reducing symptoms of ongoing abuse.

Trevor Wilson is a Visiting Fellow, in the Department of Political and Social Change at the ANU Coral Bell School of Asia Pacific Affairs. The ANU College of Asia and the Pacific’s 2015 Myanmar Update, running 5-6 June, will look at the topic “Making sense of conflict”.  

Myanmar’s brutal crackdown: who is in charge? | New Mandala

Myanmar’s brutal crackdown: who is in charge? | New Mandala

OLIVIA CABLE, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR,  

12 MARCH 2015

Photo by Reuters.

The Myanmar Police Force launched a brutal crackdown on students and activists protesting in Letpadan yesterday, around 140 kilometres from Yangon.

The protestors are rallying against a new National Education Law, which passed into law after being approved in September 2014.

The police, some 500-strong, ferociously beat protestors, monks and journalists with batons. Myanmar’s Information Minister and presidential spokesman said 127 people had been arrested.

To get a sense of what this means for Myanmar’s ongoing political and social reforms, I spoke with an anonymous person in Yangon yesterday.

This is what they had to say:

“I’ve lost hope with the government.

“I thought things were going to change and get better. I kept quiet because I didn’t want to be seen as taking sides.

“Sometimes I want to leave the country. I think I’ll be happy elsewhere.

“Nobody is asking me to do my work. I’m only doing it because I’m Burmese.

“Everyone is waiting for a fair election. Based on what we’ve seen in the last 24 hours, how fair can we have a fair election?

“The image that’s been building over the past few years is eroding away, and international donors to Myanmar will change their attitudes soon.

“Sure, Thein Sein was shortlisted for the Nobel Peace Prize. But he has no accountability.

Who’s in charge? Who’s giving these orders? What’s going on in Naypyitaw?”

And so the world still watches and waits, to see if Myanmar, in this historic election year, will deepen its reform efforts or regress to its authoritarian past.

Olivia Cable is with the Coral Bell School of Asia Pacific Affairs at The Australian National University. Twitter: @ojcable. 

Burma recruits vigilante ‘Duty’ mobs to quell student protests | Asian Correspondent

Burma recruits vigilante ‘Duty’ mobs to quell student protests | Asian Correspondent
Francis Wade Mar 06, 2015

Image via DVB TV’s Facebook page.

Among the crowds of students and riot police that clashed in downtown Yangon on March 5 were groups of men (including what appeared to be teenagers) sporting red armbands emblazoned with the word “Duty”, and who aided several baton charges at protestors. AFPquoted one witness as saying: “The authorities said they would give the protesters 30 minutes to disperse … But after 20 minutes, about a hundred people with red armbands attacked them. Some activists were arrested after they were beaten.”

The spread of protests to Yangon is exactly what the government had been hoping to avoid, as evidenced by its attempts to keep a separate group of several hundred students protesting the National Education Law kettled inside a monastery in Letpadan, just outside of Yangon. The outbreak of demonstrations in Yangon both raises the potential for wider mobilization and increases the international visibility of the protest movement, thereby throwing into sharper contrast the legitimacy of their demands for a greater slice of the state budget for education (currently 5.92%) and reduced government control over the sector, versus the government’s resistance to implementing these. The government, still touting its reformist credentials, is eager to reduce this sort of negative publicity.

The presence of security forces, and of what appear to be hired vigilantes, clearly however does little to aid its image. Quite who these “Duty” mobs are remains unclear, although they have become increasingly visible since the outbreak of anti-Muslim violence over the past two years. Needless to say Burma has a long history of cultivating “neighbourhood watch” teams that come out to play during times of unrest. The Irrawaddy noted the following:

“According to Article 128 of the Burmese Code of Criminal Procedure, if an unlawful assembly refuses to disperse, magistrates and police station chiefs have the authority to raise a male civilian force in order to break up the gathering and assist with arrests.

“The article was enacted in 1898 as part of the imposition of British common law as a means to deter any public assembly containing more than five people. It has remained on the books since.

“’They are just vigilantes who want to keep law and order,’ Myint Htwe, Rangoon Division’s Eastern District police chief, told the media on Thursday, when asked about the group who helped disperse the garment workers’ protest on Wednesday.”

It’s a cynical ploy, but one familiar to citizens of authoritarian states. Using civilian against civilian drives up levels of inter-communal distrust and paranoia, further confusing distinctions between enemy and ally. This was used to great effect during the 2007 uprising, when plain-clothed members of the Swan Arr Shin civilian militia led dozens of attacks on monks. Armed civilians also surrounded the convoy carrying Aung San Suu Kyi during the Depayin massacre in 2003.

Among Burma’s poor, the government has a fertile source of civilian recruits, and exploits the impoverishment it has created to drive recruitment to militias. Pliant civilians in effect then become instruments of state power, a bitter irony given that the poor have felt the effects of misplaced power most painfully. See, for example, this Human Rights Watch briefing around the time of the 2007 uprising. The quote is from an opposition politician:

“The military is organizing the Swan Arr Shin in poor areas that were very active during the 1988 demonstrations. This is smart, as it will help ensure control over these areas and it will split the poor from the broader [protest] movement. Swan Arr Shin members are paid 3,000 kyat [$3] a day and given two meals—this is good pay and it is easy work, as most Swan Arr Shin are day laborers who are used to doing hard manual labor, like working as porters in the market or at the ports.

“Each day, the Swan Arr Shin units are sent by bus in a convoy led by an army vehicle to areas other than those where they are resident. They are under the control of an army major and the police. In the area where I saw them working, they were under the command of an officer from the 66th Light Infantry Division. The township offices have to raise funds to feed the Swan Arr Shin that are sent into their areas.  In our area, each quarter has to provide 500 kyats per day. This leads to resentment, so the officials collect the money under false pretenses, saying it is for street cleaning and such things.”

During several waves of anti-Muslim violence, residents of towns besieged by mobs would often report that busloads of armed men would arrive and begin attacking Muslim-owned property. It doesn’t however always take the form of violence. In October 2014, it emerged that those who participated in a demonstration against the US sanctions imposed on Aung Thaung, a powerful MP with close ties to Than Shwe, had been promised payments of food. The Irrawaddy reported:

“About a thousand people joined the rally, brandishing placards with statements of support such as “We oppose US sanctions against our representative”, “We love our representative” and “Our representative is a nice person.”

“Trucks carrying takeaway Biryani packs and bottled water arrived and began to distribute food as planned, but the crowd quickly became restive after an announcement that the food would soon run out.

“’They suddenly dropped the placards, nudging each other and fighting for the biryani,’ said Aung Myo Tun, a resident of Taung Tha. ‘After that, the road was left with pile of garbage, broken placards and plastic bottles. At some places, rice grains from broken biryani containers were scattered everywhere. Later, some police and USDP members arrived to clean up the trash’.”

The government knows it has little ideological support among the populace, but also evidently knows that hunger is enough to drive the mobilization of crowds. Moreover, to those not familiar with these tactics, the presence of civilian thugs could give the impression that the government does have a support base, and that protestors have enemies among the public. It’s a depressing situation, especially considering many of the vigilantes involved in attacks in Yangon this week appear to be teenagers. The successful exploitation of poverty to turn civilian against civilian shows how ruthlessly adept government manipulation can still be, and the extent to which it will go to snuff out the exercising of freedom of assembly that it claims to be in support of.

V-Day resistance to the junta’s coercive regime | New Mandala

V-Day resistance to the junta’s coercive regime | New Mandala

AIM SINPENG, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR, 

24 FEBRUARY 2015

Source: Event posters, Facebook, Resistant Citizen (พลเมืองโต้กลับ)

Thailand just witnessed the most important anti-government rally since the May 2014 coup. This rare and well-coordinated opposition activity could be a game changer for the growing dissent among the Thai public.

On Valentine’s Day, the newly formed Resistant Citizen Group (พลเมืองโต้กลับ) launched a campaign, “My Beloved (Stolen) Election,” to call for a return to the ballot box. The event was well advertised in advance, with promotional videos, posters,Instagram and other social media outlets such as Facebook and Twitter being tactfully employed. Banners were also seen in Chiang Mai and elsewhere. Parody, comedy and pop culture were weaved through the group’s main pro-election message, “My Beloved Election,” which in Thai was written as “Leuk tung tee rak” where “rak,” which means “love” is seen crossed off and wittily replaced by another word that has a similar sound, “lak” which means “stolen.” An even more ambiguous parody in the poster is the ballot that has been changed to a condom pack with a picture of the Democracy Monument, calling for a variety of interpretations. In another parody, it is a love poem to the men in uniform that describes the longing for the “lost” voices and rights. This style of civil disobedience is reminiscent of the Red Sunday Group, which frequently organized flash mobs calling for greater political rights between 2011 and 2014.

Some 300 supporters reportedly showed up at the rally in front of the Bangkok Arts and Cultural Centre – a normally very busy area in the heart of the capital. In the past, this area used to hold events and campaigns that supported an election, a political process in which the current military government does not seem to want it to happen ‘too soon.’ In anticipation of this event, security measures were tight with army truckslined up outside of some of the major universities and at least two police units and several others in civilian clothing at the rally. After all, this was the most open opposition to the junta since initial anti-coup protests immediately following the putsch in May last year. The rally was eventually broken up by the security forces and 4 main organizers were arrested and later released on bail.

There are 3 reasons for why the V-Day resistance could mark an important turning point for opposition forces against the current military government.

First, this open, deliberate and direct challenge to the government defies and delegitimizes the government’s logic of coercion. Coercion – an act of influencing someone’s behaviour by force – requires the target audience (coercees) to perceive that they are being coerced. Often, those exercising coercion set out reasons for why a particular behaviour is desired and what the consequences are for non-compliance. Up to now, the junta has used a combination of coercion and moral suasion to “direct” and shape citizens’ behaviour.

Indeed, the very legitimacy of the current government depends on its ability to use coercion effectively and to monopolize its use. State-society relations under General Prayuth leadership is marked by an obsession over getting all “Thais” to collectively behave in a certain way, as evidenced by his Principle of 12 Values campaign. Thais are to be patriotic, loyal, grateful, respectful of authority, disciplined, etc. Along with the list of expected behaviour is also a list of “forbidden behaviour,” which includes a mundane listing of prohibitions characteristic of a dictatorial regime like a ban on political protest, for example. Threats and intimidation tactics have been frequently and openly exercised to create a climate of fear, but to also re-establish the social order to ensure Thai citizens “know” whose order to obey.

The push back by the Resistant Citizen has shown that the government’s logic of coercion may be failing. While the Prayuth Administration has generally succeeded in monopolizing the means of coercion, it has not used it so effectively. The V-Day resistance has exposed an important flaw in the government’s coercion tactic: incentives for compliance. Why should we comply, a citizen may ask? He/she may be well-aware of the risks for non-compliance but what about rewards for compliance? Social order? Prosperity? Democracy? The rewards are neither clear nor shared.

Source: Resistant Citizen Facebook

The mission statement of the Resistant Citizen strongly indicates that the current regime of coercion is not working. The way the group describes themselves is quite telling:

“In a climate of fear that is seeping through everywhere with a purpose of establishing a long-term authoritarian rule by the coup makers and their allies…In such environment, we, comprising of students, teachers, activists, relatives of those who have lost their lives due to political persecution, and those who love freedom and democracy, all agree that the first thing we must do is to destroy such climate of fear created by the coup government.”

While many Thais recognize that the junta’s grand plan of creating a morally united and acquiescent Thailand is a pipe dream, they comply or self-censor because the punishment for non-compliance is too costly (and ignorance is blissful). But the acts of defiance by Resistant Citizen has potentially reduced the “costs” of resistance for individual dissent through public demonstration of collective dissent.

Furthermore, the fact that the main drivers behind the V-Day resistance are knownactivists, and some would be considered by the authorities as “repeat offenders” signifies the military’s weakening coercive regime. Siriwit Serithiwat, one of the main organizers, had been detained twice previously and even signed an MOU with the military that he would not further engage in political activities. Yet he did. Anon Nampha, the Resistant Citizen’s leader and a human rights lawyer, told the authorities who detained him that if they were to be released, it would have to be unconditional. Both of these examples show that not only was the threat of reprisal not working, but the opposition leaders perceived their own position of having some leverage vis-à-vis the government.

Lastly, the V-Day resistance drew on support from existing opposition organizations, which demonstrated the strengthening of opposition forces. Unlike previous small acts of defiance, like the three-finger salute, or pro-democracy banners at sportingevents, the recent pro-democracy rally was well planned and coordinated. It drew support, manpower and organization skills from established groups such as the Thai Student Centre for Democracy, the League of Liberal Thammasat for Democracy, and the Liberal Assembly of Chiang Mai University. Even a prominent anti-coup activist and founder of the Red Sunday Group, Sombat Boonngamanong, who is facing up to 14 years in prison for his political activities, came to show tacit support to the Resistant Citizen group by bailing out one of its leaders. Organizational assets like these crucial for oppositional activities to continue on the future.

No the Prayuth regime is not crumbling, but its foundations are shaking against the tides of rising dissent.

Aim Sinpeng is a Lecturer in the Department of Government and International Relations, University of Sydney and Pasoot Lasuka provided invaluable advice on an earlier draft