A light that will not go out

PROFILE: AUNG SAN SUU KYI She is an international symbol of integrity, exhalted by celebrities worldwide – but some question…

PROFILE: AUNG SAN SUU KYIShe is an international symbol of integrity, exhalted by celebrities worldwide – but some question whether her unbending stance is, in fact, the right path for Burma's democracy movement

THE SIGHT of scores of U2 fans in Croke Park last weekend wearing cardboard masks of Aung San Suu Kyi was surreal, to say the least.

There are, internationally, few more deserving causes than that championed by this elegant, courageous Burmese pro-democracy leader.

Yet it is hard to imagine that the generals who have imprisoned her, and who continue to murder and persecute her supporters with impunity, will lose any sleep over something a rock band tells its fans to do.

READ MORE

Similarly, there will have been few reverberations in Rangoon from the announcement on Monday that Suu Kyi is the recipient of Amnesty International’s new Ambassador of Conscience Award.

The award-winner's mantelpiece is already creaking under the weight of worthy gongs, including a Nobel Peace Prize from 1991 and the Freedom of Dublin City from 2000 (the latter being shared with U2, who released Walk Onin her honour the following year).

She has an army of celebrity endorsers, from Jennifer Aniston to Ricky Gervais. But to what end? For 14 of the past 20 years, she has been in detention, while the generals – now led by the crusty Than Shwe – have tightened their grip on a terrified population.

They have railroaded in a new constitution, created a grassroots, Stasi-like police force and are building a new capital city, funding by growing business ties with regional allies, especially China.

Could Suu Kyi herself be holding back political progress? To ask this question just a few years ago would be seen as treacherous. But today, doubts are being voiced about the effectiveness of the imprisoned leader’s rigid campaigning stance and her reliance specifically on the twin pillars of non-violent resistance and international sanctions in order to bring about change.

A new generation of student activists has emerged that is less ideologically-driven. More significantly, elements within the National League for Democracy (NLD), the organisation she leads, have questioned her political nous and ability to adapt to events. In some western diplomatic circles, there is parallel concern that a cult surrounding her – or “the Lady”, as she is also known – could be accelerating Burma’s isolation, leaving it prey to unscrupulous sponsors.

Last week, US secretary of state Hillary Clinton said that she was worried about military links between Burma and North Korea, after evidence emerged that the junta may be trying to acquire nuclear technology from Pyongyang. Countries such as India, Thailand, Malaysia and South Korea are also creating business ties with the generals, as western governments – with France the main exception – pull out of Burma’s oil and gas industries under international trade embargoes.

To blame Suu Kyi, 64, for any of this, however, seems entirely unfair. Daw Suu, as she is affectionately known to her people, has no power beyond her formidable moral authority. Denied her basic rights, she also has little or no control over her fate. Worse still, she now faces a prison sentence of up to five years for violating the terms of her house arrest after an American man turned up at her home uninvited after swimming across a lake. The verdict in her widely condemned trial had been expected yesterday, but was adjourned until August 11th.

While there is no happy ending in sight, Suu Kyi's life story reads like an epic. Her father, Aung San, founded the independence movement "We Burmese", part modelled – he later revealed — on Sinn Fein. The Bogyoke(big leader) closely followed independence struggles in India and Ireland, and wrote favourably of Eamon de Valera and Michael Collins. In 1947, Aung San negotiated Burma's independence from the UK. He was assassinated by rivals the same year, when his daughter was just two years old.

After some years in the political wilderness, Suu Kyi’s mother was persuaded to take up a role in the Burmese government, and in 1960 was appointed the country’s ambassador to India. Suu Kyi lived with her mother in India before travelling to the UK to continue her education.

Friends at Oxford typically described her as self-composed and unfailingly upright. She taught herself to punt on the river, and once tasted alcohol in a subversive operation in the ladies’ toilets – then vowed never to drink the stuff again.

While vacationing from Oxford, she stayed with the aristocratic Gore-Booths in their Chelsea townhouse in London, and it was here she met Michael Aris, a tall, tousle-haired scholar and expert in Tibetan studies. In 1972, she renounced her pledge to only ever marry a Burmese: Aris and she became husband and wife.

From her time in England, there was no indication of Suu Kyi’s steely reserves and her leadership qualities. She lived a relatively pampered existence in upper-class circles, and even spoke Burmese with an English accent. What chance did she have of playing a role in her country’s politics?

In 1988, she returned to Burma to nurse her ailing mother – coincidentally, at a time when decades of simmering discontent with the ruling military was just boiling over.

At least 3,000 civilians were gunned down or hacked to death by Burmese soldiers as they protested on the streets. The people cried out for a new leader and Suu Kyi – who had always harboured a quiet patriotism and sense of public duty – agreed to address a demonstration on the grounds of the Shwedagon pagoda that presides over Rangoon.

On August 26th, 1998, a crowd estimated at between 300,000 and one million heard her declare: “I could not, as my father’s daughter, remain indifferent to all that is going on. The national crisis could in fact be called the second struggle for national independence.”

In his critically-acclaimed biography of Suu Kyi, Perfect Hostage, Justin Wintle notes that "she projected herself as a sort of oriental Mary Poppins. Those who were well acquainted with her knew of her skittish humour and her capacity for laughter; but 'on duty', such qualities were not just rationed, they were banished."

Tales of her heroism – including facing down soldiers at gunpoint — as she campaigned in the 1990 elections were legend. When her victory in the poll was annulled by the military, she began a new life as a political prisoner. In the process, she was separated from her husband and their children Alexander and Kim. When Aris was diagnosed with terminal cancer, the Burmese government refused him a visa to visit his wife, and he died in 1999, thousands of miles away.

They were “desperate” to be reunited at the time, Aris’ sister Lucinda Phillips – one of Suu Kyi’s closest friends in England – recalled this week. Asked whether her sister-in-law ever considered travelling to see Aris in his final days and run the risk of being refused re-entry to Burma, Phillips replied: “No, never. Michael would not have allowed it.”

Since her last period of detention began in May 2003, Suu Kyi has been denied any contact with the outside world and is prohibited from making any public statements. In the vacuum, some opponents have surfaced, including the charismatic founder of the Free Burma Coalition, Dr Maung Zarni. In 2005, he renounced his political asylum in the US and returned to Burma to attempt to broker a deal with the military, denouncing the NLD’s pre-conditioning stance.

More recently, activists have questioned whether Suu Kyi's religiosity and intransigence may be working against them. An essay in the Guardianlast year with the headline "Not such a hero after all" quoted an unnamed elder figure in the democracy movement stating: "If Suu Kyi has a plan to end 20 years of political deadlock, only she knows it."

One of her spokesmen did not deny disagreements in the movement, but claimed “this critical tendency is a sign of rude health”.

More recently, activists have fallen out over whether to maintain a tourism boycott, as recommended by Suu Kyi, and also whether to encourage international aid for reconstruction after Cyclone Nargis.

Aung Naing Oo, a leader in the 1988 student uprisings and prominent activist in exile, told the Irrawaddynews publication last year that, for the NLD to make progress "we seriously need to do some soul searching. We need a result-oriented way of thinking about how to proceed".

In an implied criticism of Suu Kyi and other leaders, he added: “I think our politicians are naïve and no more than activists. They don’t know how to take power and they have no strategic policies.”

No one denies Suu Kyi’s bravery and integrity. Even Dr Maung conceded: “Fifty years hence, there will be a statue of her in every Burmese township”.

CV  AUNG SAN SUU KYI

Who is she?Leading figure of Burma's democracy movement

Why she's in the news:Has been on trial for the "crime" of breaching the terms of her house arrest, and this week she was named Amnesty's Ambassador of Conscience

Most likely to say:"As long as even one person remains in Burma who is not going to give up, then I am not going to leave that person and abandon the cause for my own peace of mind" (said in 1998)

Least likely to say:"Take up arms!"

Least appealing characteristic:She attracts much tokenistic support

Most appealing characteristic:She scares bullies

Joe Humphreys

Joe Humphreys

Joe Humphreys is an Assistant News Editor at The Irish Times and writer of the Unthinkable philosophy column