You may have heard we have a little problem with a former postal clerk in Burma. Before joining the army in the early 1950s the young man delivered letters and packages to people in central Burma. We should assume then that as a messenger of the state he learned to appreciate the importance most people put on communication and the social grace to respond in kind when someone corresponds with you.

Now head of Burma's military junta, Snr-Gen Than Shwe must receive a lot of mail: official transcripts, secret reports and dossiers, military analysis, international dispatches, petitions, even birthday cards from his relatives.

Detained Nobel Peace Prize winner and opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi sent two letters to the military dictator in September and November last year. In those letters, we are told, she expressed her willingness to sit down and talk with him. As a further gesture, she indicated that she wanted to work with him to achieve national reconciliation and to discuss a strategy to encourage Western nations to lift sanctions on the country. (I understand that Suu Kyi cannot request the US and the EU to lift sanctions unless she is freed along with other political prisoners, and a meaningful political process is seen to be in progress.)

I believe the olive branch that The Lady offered to Than Shwe was an opportunity for him to open a dialogue with the opposition and a gift-wrapped invitation to help untangle Burma from its international isolation.

The former postal clerk did not respond to her letters.

Suu Kyi was gracious and did not give in. In her second letter, she repeatedly expressed her gratitude to Than Shwe (perhaps hoping that flattery would sooth his stubborn ego) in spite of her extended house arrest and the bogus trial he subjected her to last year.

Like a spoilt child sent to his room, Than Shwe remained defiant by demonstrating a sullen silence.

Suu Kyi tried another tack––she asked the regime leader to allow her to meet with three senior leaders from her National League for Democracy (NLD) party. This time, her wish was granted and she was able to meet with and pay respect to the ailing veterans at a government guest house. However, she was  not allowed to meet all the party's senior leaders.

I guess Than Shwe must be reading her letters, after all.

This is not the first time the junta strongman has been lost for words when dealing with Suu Kyi. Almost a year after her convoy was brutally ambushed in Depayin in May 2003, she sent a letter to Than Shwe stating that the NLD was ready to work with the government. But the former mail-boy refused to reply.

Suu Kyi's courage, selflessness and humanity contrasted starkly with Than Shwe's immaturity, pettiness and malice.

As if it were a noble gesture, Than Shwe this week magnanimously granted the detained opposition leader a meeting with her lawyers to discuss her upcoming appeal against the extension of her house arrest (as if the rule of law actually existed in Burma), and to address a petty objection by her estranged brother to her performing repairs on her lakeside home.

It is therefore clear that Than Shwe reads the letters he receives from the NLD leader. We can imagine him sweating with nerves as he opens the envelope, brooding over her words, his face turning dark with jealousy and fear when he realizes yet again that he is no match for her. He will ponder for days how he can respond to the Nobel Peace Prize laureate. Lost for words, he will sink into silence.

This year, Than Shwe will probably receive more letters from Aung San Suu Kyi. But we wonder whether the former mail-boy will ever get the message.