Burma Shows Its Feelings

For 26 years, ever since the army seized control, Burma has been synonymous with decay and decline. Although blessed with natural resources, the nation that was once the world’s chief rice exporter suffers from food shortages. After producing statesmen like the late U.N. Secretary General U Thant and spearheading the nonaligned movement, Burma turned inward; few people left, and fewer visited. The only Burmese who have prospered since Gen. Ne Win staged the 1962 coup and imposed a fuzzy ideology called “the Burmese Way to Socialism” have been the generals. And yet, even in the face of political repression and living standards that place Burma among the 10 poorest countries on Earth, the Burmese seemed to accept their fate passively.

But no longer. In every major city and town in Burma, militant students, monks and workers have demonstrated in unprecedented numbers this week against the one-party military dictatorship. They have defied curfews imposed under martial law and marched on government buildings in a direct challenge to the generals. As the rioting has spread, it has turned bloodier: Soldiers have fired indiscriminately on demonstrators, three policemen have reportedly been beheaded and the official death toll has reached 78 (though some diplomats believe it to be twice that).

The demonstrators are demanding the resignation of Sein Lwin, the hard-line former general who succeeded Ne Win two weeks ago as head of state and leader of the Burma Socialist Program Party, the only authorized political party. As Ne Win, humbled by the growing protest movement, tendered his resignation, he urged a national referendum on continuing one-party rule. Ne Win’s party rejected his advice and chose as his successor a strongman despised for his brutal suppression of earlier dissent--the worst possible choice.

The perpetuation of the dictatorship and the country’s deepening economic crisis have fueled the growing violence. Desertions within the ranks, particularly in the northeast, suggest that the army’s once-solid support for Sein Lwin has begun to crack. This government may fall in what is shaping up as a bloodbath.

But it is unlikely that whatever replaces the current regime will be any more democratic, any more attuned to Burma’s needs, any more capable of handling the persistent tribal and Communist rebellions. Among Burmese exiles in the United States, the betting is that the military also will dominate the next government, though perhaps with new faces among the leadership. Not surprisingly, there seems to be no obvious civilian alternative, no one with sufficient authority or stature to hold Burma together; the military has arrested or exiled its most formidable opponents.

And yet, as the protests indicate, there is a genuine impulse toward democracy in Burma. Britain, whose standing remains high in its former colony, as well as Australia and New Zealand, may be better positioned than the United States to encourage that impulse and influence events. Washington has little leverage, partly because the generals have used $65 million in drug-interdiction equipment furnished by the United States--mostly helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft--against civilians as much as against opium smugglers in the Golden Triangle. All that Americans can do is cheer on the brave Burmese who want a government that will provide more rice and more freedom.