A Day to Remember

To ignore the result of the 1990 elections is to have total disrespect for the people and is also an insult to the people.”

It was a cry in the dark. Since Suu Kyi’s entry into politics in 1988 she has spent some 10 years in detention, silenced and isolated.

During one of her rare spells of freedom, on the seventh anniversary of the election, she tried to convene an NLD congress, but the 316 members who had planned to attend were arrested and the event could not be held.

In June 1998, the NLD set a deadline of August 21 for convening parliament, and when that was (of course) ignored by the regime, the NLD formed a 10-member Committee Representing the People’s Parliament, with a mandate signed by 251 of those elected in the 1990 poll. It brought the country no nearer to a constitutional parliament, however.

A ray of hope appeared in 2002 when Suu Kyi was released from her second term of house arrest and given a measure of freedom to carry on her political activities. The regime made conciliatory noises and for a while it appeared that secret talks were planned between the junta and NLD leaders.

Hopes were dashed in 2003, however, when Suu Kyi and a convoy of supporters were attacked by a military-organized mob in Depayin, Sagaing Division. Dozens of her supporters were reportedly beaten to death, and Suu Kyi and other leaders were arrested.

It wasn’t the first time Suu Kyi had felt the fury of the regime. During an election campaign tour in Danubyu, Irrawaddy Division, in 1989, an army captain ordered her party to halt. She kept walking—towards the muzzles of soldiers blocking the road. The captain ordered the squad to prepare to fire, and only the counter-command of a senior officer saved Suu Kyi from being gunned down.

In November 1996, a convoy of cars carrying Suu Kyi and other NLD members was attacked by a 200-strong mob organized by the junta’s Union Solidarity and Development Association. Suu Kyi’s companions shielded her from the mob, but her car was smashed.

Burma’s opposition faces a much more insidious danger, however. It emanates from those who argue that the election belongs in the past, that it no longer holds relevance or validity in a world of “Realpolitik.” The former youth NLD leader told me sadly on the phone: “Yes, it has become history. In principle, it’s a matter of absolute truth and democracy. But practically, maybe it is no longer realistic.”

An alternative to the 1990 election result should be found, he said. But he utterly opposed the National Convention option.

Above all, the sacrifices of the 1990 election period should not be forgotten, he said. “Don’t think it was easy for us to achieve that triumph. The election came out of our sacrifices—including thousands of lives during the 1988 uprising. It’s easy for people like observers or scholars who sacrificed nothing to say ‘Forget about it.”

The prominent former student leader Ko Ko Gyi, recently freed after serving a 14 year prison sentence, says: “I think that national reconciliation is more important and vital than handing over power. It’s much more important how the representatives we elected in 1990 deal with the military leaders to reach national reconciliation among all nationalities.”

Ko Ko Gyi warns that a straight handover of power would not remove deep-rooted political divisions at a stroke.

There’s also the problem of the divisions that have surfaced over the years within the main opposition party, the NLD.