Myanmar pro-democracy
leader Aung San Suu Kyi, center, delivers a speech during her election campaign
rally in Meikhtila, central Myanmar, March 5, 2012. Others are unidentified.
(AP Photo/Khin Maung Win)
Last month I wrote about
the joy of welcoming the members of the Karen peace delegation and finding that
it was more like a family reunion than a first meeting between strangers. The
atmosphere was warm and relaxed, it felt as natural to address the leader of
the delegation, the octogenarian General Saw Htay Maung, as "A-ba,"
("Father") as to address the thirty-two year old Colonel 'Tiger' as
"Son."
Dedicated, disciplined
and courteous, the latter was the kind of young officer any army should be
proud to claim as its own. Why were we wasting our precious human resources
through disunity and dissension when so much could be achieved through unity
and cooperation? The different ethnic nationalities in our country are our
strength, our insurance for a bright future.
When I was a child I
spent long moments looking at a large photograph that hung in our dining room.
My father dressed in shabby khaki, his head swathed in a Kachin turban, a
Kachin sword slung across his chest, sat in the centre, the sole man surrounded
by a bevy of Kachin beauties. It had been taken in Myitkyina and everybody was
smiling broadly. My mother had explained that they were all laughing because
just as the photographer was about to press the button somebody had shouted out
to my father: "Bogyoke (General), won't your wife be furious?" This
photograph was loved not only by me but by many others as well because my
father usually appeared before the camera stern and unsmiling, very much a man
totally given over to the demands of his military and political duties.
Another photograph taken
on the same occasion as the happy group also hung in the dining room. My father
stood alone looking straight into the lens, smiling, young, happy and handsome.
I came to the conclusion that he must have been happy in Myitkyina. There was a
radiance to him that was more than a simple reaction to a small joke. As I grew
older I began to understand the reason behind my father's unusually sunny mood
in Myitkyina. The meetings with Kachin and other ethnic nationality leaders had
gone well and the spirit of Union had begun to materialize
Myitkyina became, in my
youthful imagination, the 'happy land.' My first visit to this town only
strengthened my early impressions. It was the summer holidays and my mother was
going to convene a conference on Social Welfare in Myitkyina. Our party was big
and we enjoyed two delightful nights and days on a train that took us steadily
north through the heart of Burma. When we reached Myitkyina on the third day, I
was immediately charmed by the peaceful town and the breathtaking views. We
bathed in the limpid waters of Myitsone, the confluence of the Irrawaddy, now
widely known because of controversies related to the Eight Dams project and
environmental degradation, then famed only for its beauty. We watched a
performance of traditional dances and I found that not only were the girls as
pretty as the ones who had been photographed with my father, the men were
dashing and attractive as well. It was altogether one of the happiest times of
my life and I came away convinced that where our ethnic brethren lived, there
was to be found beauty and joy.
My second visit to
Myitkyina took place in April 1989. I went there as the General Secretary of
the newly founded National League for Democracy and our rather large group was
welcomed warmly by a retired army officer, the leader of a Kachin political
party, also newly founded. He put his house as well as the resources of his
party at our disposal with unstinting generosity. We campaigned tirelessly,
made many friends, our young people ate the large star apple tree in his garden
bare of all its fruit and we went back to Rangoon contented and glowing from
our sojourn in the Kachin lands.
My third visit to
Myitkyina that took place in 2003 was not so happy. The people appeared
nervous, the brightness that I remembered had dimmed noticeably. Some local
officials had decreed that traditional ethnic costumes were not to be worn
while I was in town (this would have appeared too welcoming) and our supporters
were threatened with unpleasant consequences. Our party members and other brave
townsfolk defied the threats and turned up in their beautiful costumes to
listen to a speech I gave from the balcony of a house.
The oppressive atmosphere
was not confined to the town of Myitkyina; it also hung over the other parts of
the Kachin state that we journeyed through. But one day we hit an unexpected
bright spot. We had been going along for hours in what was to us unknown
terrain, barely able to take in our surroundings, we were so exhausted.
Suddenly, we became aware of young, smartly turned our soldiers, friendly and
respectful, lining the road we were driving through. We were puzzled for a bit,
then realized that the Kachin Independence Army, which at that time had come to
a ceasefire agreement with the State Peace and Development Council (the
military government) had provided us with a security guard. It was a courtesy I
shall never forget. Later the KIA helped to dig one of our cars out from the
thick mud in which it was stuck and made arrangements for it to be towed to the
nearest town for necessary repairs. Thus in spite of all our difficulties the
trip ended on a hopeful note, the enduring spirit of Union rising above
arbitrary barriers. (By Aung San Suu Kyi)
(Mainichi Japan) March 25, 2012
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