Democracy activists take the safe option

“It’s as if brains have been infected by malaria.” Kyaw Thura invoked a common Burmese expression to vent his frustration over the increasing numbers of dissident exiles who are turning their backs on comrades in the so-called “Liberated Area” and seeking new lives elsewhere.

Kyaw Thura has spent 17 years on the Thai-Burma border working for the downfall of the military regime in Rangoon and for the restoration of democracy in his home country.

Dissidents leaving for greener pastures

Sadly watching the departure of like-minded dissidents for new countries such as the United States, he feels increasingly isolated as his power base shrinks month by month.

The Thai-Burma border region, particularly the area around the Thai town of Mae Sot, has long been a hotbed of opposition to successive Rangoon regimes. Thousands of political activists fled there after the 1988 pro-democracy uprising was brutally suppressed by regime forces.

Hundreds followed in May 2003 after regime thugs attacked opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi and her supporters, and in another exodus before the resumption of the National Convention last August.

Mae Sot, which sits on the Burmese border in Thailand’s Tak Province, became a second home for about 1,000 Burmese dissidents, who run dozens of offices representing exile interests.

The number is steadily shrinking, however, as exiled dissidents, either disillusioned by the absence of any movement within Burma or yielding to family interests, move on to Western countries willing to take them as refugees.

The resumption in late 2003 of ceasefire talks between the Karen National Union, or KNU, and the Burmese government, and the subsequent “informal” agreement between the two sides, prompted many exiled activists to renounce a struggle that began 56 years ago.

Others gave up campaigning after watching with dismay as Karen leader Gen Bo Mya hobnobbed with Burma’s top brass during a ground-breaking trip to Rangoon in 2004.

Most of the disillusioned exiles living in Thailand applied to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, or UNHCR, for refugee status as “Persons of Concern.” The flood of applications grew so large that the UNHCR temporarily suspended its processing procedure on January 6, 2004, the day after about 40 exile NLD activists—members of the National League for Democracy (Liberated Area), or NLD-LA—filed applications.

BURMESE STUDENT TROOPS ON THE BORDER: Shrinking

Until the resumption of ceasefire talks, most opposition groups in exile had banned their members from applying for “Persons of Concern” status. The apparent rapprochement between the KNU and the junta, however, sparked fears that Burmese exiles in Thailand could be arrested by the Thai authorities for failing to hold UN refugee status.

Six hundred Burmese exiles with UN documents left the so-called “Liberated Area” in 2004 to resettle in the US and Europe, and at least as many are expected to follow this year.

Ko Tate, Secretary of the Mae Sot-based Assistance Association for Political Prisoners, or AAPP, said 21 of the 100 or so members of his organization resettled last year in the US and Norway. The rest had applied for UN refugee status and were likely to follow.

Only four or five exiles would then be left to run the AAPP office in Mae Sot, Ko Tate lamented.

The Mae Sot office of the Democratic Party for a New Society, or DPNS, is in no better shape, with only about 10 of the 100 or so DPNS members expected to remain and run the party’s affairs.

Also of concern to exiled Burmese activists is the shrinking strength of the armed forces of the All Burma Students’ Democratic Front, or ABSDF, founded by students who fled Burma after the 1988 uprising.

The “student army” grew to a formidable force of several thousand young activists, who scored some spectacular military successes against the Burma Army. But their fortunes turned in 1995 when the Burma Army captured the Manerplaw headquarters of the Karen National Union, or KNU.

“The fall of Manerplaw was an immeasurable loss not only for the KNU but for the whole movement,” said ABSDF Secretary Kyaw Ko, who was among the original members of the student army.

Kyaw Ko said the ABSDF strength in border areas had shrunk to about 800 from a force which he maintained once numbered in the “tens of thousands.”

The ABSDF forbids its members to apply for UN refugee status, on pain of expulsion. Nevertheless, 50 members quit the movement last year in order to seek a new life in the West.

“Morally and physically, this resettlement process impacts on our movement,” said Kyaw Ko.

One of the DPNS secretaries, Ngwe Lin, said he understood why married exiles were seeking a new life in the West, but maintained the best location to conduct the campaign for Burmese democracy was in the “Liberated Area” of the Thai-Burma border.

Kyaw Thura says most are leaving for family reasons. Burmese exiles who marry and raise a family face many difficulties in Thailand—their children, for instance, are officially stateless and are denied formal education.

“Where’s their future?” he asks. “The way out for them is to resettle in western countries, where their children can get citizenship and build their own lives.”

Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra’s Burma-friendly policies are also held responsible for the insecurity behind most decisions to leave Thailand and resettle elsewhere. Thaksin takes a strong line in banning activities aimed at destabilizing a foreign government, and Burmese exiles fear this policy could be tightened still further during his second term in office.

A senior member of the prisoners’ rights group AAPP, Zarny, resettled in the US six months ago and says he left Thailand because “I would live in a secure place.”

Zarny said: “Living in Thailand always made me worried of possible arrest and intimidation by Thai authorities. Now I feel secure.”

Nevertheless, Zarny concedes that it’s “totally impossible” for Burmese exiles to be politically active so far from their country. “How can we continue our activities in a place far away from our organization?”

Besides, Burmese exiles in the West have other, personal concerns—“We have to work here for our survival,” says Zarny, who makes a living as a waiter.

Zarny believes, anyway, that the exodus of exiles from the “Liberated Area” won’t affect the pro-democracy struggle too much.

“The epicenter of our movement is inside Burma,” he says. “Our opposition members should not stick to Mae Sot as their base and should look for other borders, like India or China.”

Some leaders of exile movements also make light of the exodus. The AAPP’s Ko Tate believes pro-democracy activists can work more effectively with fewer people.

“We don’t need many people to work here,” he says. “More people invite more problems, more burdens.”

Nyo Ohn Myint, a member of the NLD-LA foreign affairs committee, anticipates that a more compact movement will give it increased strength and cohesion. He expects 90 percent of the NLD-LA’s 100 or so members to join the exodus soon.

Kyaw Thura, however, remains worried. “It’s impossible to run an organization with just a small group of leaders. Human resources are necessary to keep the movement alive. We can’t survive with just a head.”

His concern is perhaps unfounded, for as long as the junta rules Burma dissidents will continue to leave. The “Liberated Area” is losing people, but there’s likely to be no lack of others to take their place.