We marched out of the campus in the afternoon drizzle—dozens of students, each wearing a white shirt and a green sarong (the Burmese high school uniform), none holding an umbrella and all singing kabar ma kye, the national anthem.

Everything appeared calm until an army personnel truck approached and stopped nearby. Then soldiers wearing red cloth around their necks (a symbol of Burmese commandos) filed out and confronted us with the stainless steel bayonets of their G3 assault rifles. Each commando had their index finger on the trigger, as if he were facing off with guerrilla fighters in the jungle.

All of us dispersed and ran, some trying to hide in neighboring houses. The soldiers saw one student had covered his face with a scarf, and chased him because they thought he was the leader. When they seized the student and were about to take him away, I stepped out and told a captain that he was just a young, 8th grade boy.

Kyaw Zwa Moe is managing editor of the Irrawaddy magazine. He can be reached at [email protected].

“Shut up!” he said. “You wanna die.”

This was Aug. 7, 1988—one day before the Aug. 8, 1988 nationwide protest that has since became known, poignantly, as 8.8.88.

On that day, 23 years ago today, thousands of students from our school, once again wearing our white and green uniforms, joined the demonstrations. And after having marched for a couple of miles towards downtown Rangoon, we once again confronted troops.

The soldiers knelt on the paved road and pointed their G3s at us, while armored vehicles and army personnel trucks raced their engines behind. Using a loud speaker, an officer addressed the protesters and told us that we had 15 minutes to reverse direction and disperse. Time passed; we stood our ground.

Then gunfire erupted. Everyone ran, and I heard panicked colleagues yelling that students had been hit, but I had no time to look back over my shoulder when bullets were flying over my head. After finding a safe place to hide, I looked down to see that I was still holding my school book bag.

On 8.8.88 and the days that followed, bullets fired by regime troops cut down protesters in Rangoon and other cities across Burma. Prime targets were university and high school students leading columns of people calling for democracy, and the blood of those young, brave students stained the streets throughout Burma. In total, at least 3,000 demonstrators died during the uprising.

No political leaders organized the protests. No one saw Burma's first prime minister, U Nu, or other political figures such as Aung San Suu Kyi and Aung Shwe, on the streets at the time. Neither did they see the leaders of any of today's political parties, nor any current member of Parliament who now sits in the shiny new building in Naypyidaw.

The movement that unseated Gen Ne Win's socialist regime, which had ruled the country with an iron fist for 26 years, was led by student leaders like Min Ko Naing, Ko Ko Gyi, Min Zeya and Htay Kywe.

Prior to 1988, past generations of Burmese students had unsuccessfully attempted to resist Ne Win's regime—which had removed U Nu from power in a bloody coup in 1962 and a short time later dynamited the historic Student Union building at Rangoon University.

In 1969, U Nu fled to Thailand and the following year launched a revolutionary movement against Ne Win's regime by setting up the Parliamentary Democracy Party and forming a militia, but his plan failed and he later returned to Burma. In 1974 and 1976, significant strikes were organized by students and workers, but they were crushed by the junta and the movement took years to bounce back.

However, the 1988 student movement succeeded, at least initially, where the others had failed. Although the military seized power again in Sept. 1988 and crushed the demonstrations, the new regime promised to hold a free and fair election to restore a system of parliamentary democracy. In addition, U Nu and other veteran politicians became involved in politics once again, and parties were officially registered.

When Suu Kyi and the National League for Democracy (NLD) won a landslide victory in the 1990 election, it appeared that Burma's nearly three decades of authoritarian rule was in the rear-view mirror. But the regime refused to honor the election results and cracked down on the NLD leaders, most of whom ended up in prison or, in the case of Suu Kyi, under house arrest.

Like the NLD and other pro-democracy groups, students from the '88 generation were crushed and their leaders imprisoned. Several student leaders, including Min Ko Naing, served up to 15 years in prison, but when they were released around 2005, everyone could see that their lengthy imprisonment and suffering in jail had not made them bow their heads to the regime.   
  
After being released, the student leaders formed the 88 Generation Students group and carried on their political activities, steadily gaining political momentum and public support. They launched some effective campaigns, such as the “White Shirt” campaign, and within two years their efforts led to the 2007 Saffron Revolution, which put the plight of the Burmese people in the world spotlight.

As a result, Min Ko Naing and his colleagues were once again thrown behind bars, and are now serving 65-year sentences in remote prisons. Conveniently for the regime, the 88 Generation Students group leaders were all in jail when it held the “election” in 2010, and they remained incarcerated when the new “civilian” government took power.

Tellingly, Suu Kyi was released but the 88 Generation Students group leaders remain in prison. This is a strong indication of who the regime fears most today.  
 
Other student leaders from the '88 generation fled Burma to escape political persecution and imprisonment, but they continue to make a contribution while in exile. Many are the leaders of exile political groups, human rights organizations and media.

Critics say that the ineffectiveness of opposition parties has contributed to the ability of the military rulers to keep their hold on power since 1988. But after 23 years, the former student leaders and their pro-democracy colleagues have managed to keep the flame of democracy burning. 
 
In addition, without the brave efforts and selfless sacrifices of the former students, both in 1988 and beyond, the pro-democracy  movement that exists today would not be in place and the advances it has made would not have occurred.

Political parties like Suu Kyi's NLD were officially formed after 1988 and still exist. Civil society groups have more “space” to organize and operate today than they had in the past. Some members of pro-democracy parties, although their numbers are small, now sit in the new Parliament. 

But justice has not been achieved for the victims of the '88 movement, and its leaders still languish in jail without any serious  pressure being applied to free them by domestic political parties and the international community—especially Western democracies and the UN.

In addition, Burma has yet to see meaningful political change and its current situation does not look promising. The country is still ruled  by many of the same ex-generals who staged the bloody coup in 1988 and later became the leaders of one of the world's most notorious regimes.

Unfortunately, in the face of this the leaders of the current political organizations do not seem to be of the same political caliber as the imprisoned leaders of the 88 Generation Students group. 

But the spirit of '88 is still alive and the pro-democracy flame is still burning, so it's time for every person and organization with pressure to bear to use their influence to gain the release of those leaders of the 88 Generation Students group who remain in jail.

The student leaders of 1988 should all be allowed to finish the mission they braved bullets to start on the streets of Rangoon, 23 years ago today.