I was preparing to take a break for the New Year when a friend walked into my office. He is an avid Burma watcher and has an extensive network of contacts in the country. He frequently comes to The Irrawaddy office and is anything but shy of voicing his opinions. I appreciate hearing his often cutting criticisms of our news coverage.  

We have been feverishly busy at The Irrawaddy throughout 2009. It was, in many ways, an important year in Burma's modern history, and I felt, overall, that we had covered it well. We had delivered timely, accurate, in-depth news every day, and had increased our output (we also launched a Burmese language biweekly e-zine and podcasts) despite a nail-biting wait for the approval of our funding and some serious cash flow problems. As a non-profit publication based in exile, we constantly have to fund-raise, especially as we have expanded our staff both inside Burma and in exile.

“Your coverage on Burma this year was above average,” my friend conceded grudgingly after I had explained the logistics. 

“In fact, your coverage of the Aung San Suu Kyi trial and the crazy American swimmer was spot on,” he said, “and the reports on the North Korea-Burma connection, the nuclear issue, the secret tunnels, and the Kokang conflict were excellent.”

I was pleased––and relieved––that he had praised our work; I respected his opinion and he was a man who, truth be told, would find flaws in a diamond.

“What do you expect to happen in 2010?” I asked him. I was interested to know because we had just interviewed several prominent players in the Burma scene and asked them to predict what would happen in the year ahead. They were mostly pessimistic.

“Nothing will change, even if the regime holds an election,” he immediately volunteered. 

There are some, I countered, that believe the election is the only game in town.

He lamented that even reform-minded military officers and civil servants are resigned to the fact that the generals are the obstacle to change. “They are the victims of their own system and they see no way out,” he said. 

We discussed the recent visit of Joseph Stiglitz, the 2001 Nobel Economics laureate, to Burma. I noted that Stiglitz and the UN officials [from United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific] had been quite upbeat at their press conference following meetings with the junta.

My colleague smiled and said, “It is like playing piano to a water buffalo. It doesn't appreciate the melody.

“We all know that Than Shwe is the main obstacle,” he went on. “There's no question about that. But, we must be honest enough to admit our own mistakes and ignorance. If not, we ourselves become obstacles to change.”

Obstacles to change? Was he referring to me? I asked him to clarify.

“Be careful,” he warned. “When you go and say the election won't change anything in Burma, there is a lot of international donors and spin doctors who won't appreciate that. You put yourself in danger of becoming an outcast in exile.”

He continued: “Even the opposition leaders and activists can become prisoners of their own egos. Just like Than Shwe, they just want to maintain the status quo and only listen to what they want to hear.”

Take a look at the NLD leaders who are now in their 80s and 90s, he said by way of an example. “Have they ever asked themselves whether they have become obstacles to change? I don't doubt they have the best of intentions, but have they not wasted much valuable time? Now it's down to Suu Kyi to make the party relevant again.” 

What about people in exile? I asked, still curious as to whether he had been referring to me or The Irrawaddy.

He smiled. “They are all around. Maybe close to you. Or even you yourself.”

He paused for a moment before continuing: “Whoever is working on Burma must look at themselves in the mirror and ask themselves what they must do to effect change and what they must change in themselves to get that job done. This is a time for soul-searching.”

He began listing various self-appointed experts, foreign academics and aid agencies. Like the UN's special envoy Ibrahim Gambari, he said, they must all stand up and be counted. If they are not part of the solution, they are part of the problem.

He sat back in his chair and sighed. “After all, how can we expect to change others if we refuse to change ourselves.”

Taking his point to heart, I asked: “So, if change must come from within, does that mean we have to change our own souls?”

“Indeed it does,” he said. “It is time to free all prisoners of conscience. Including our own.”