Burma/Myanmar: What Everyone Needs to Know (24 page)

There will be, in effect, a multiparty system, but political parties may be abolished if they receive or expend assets from foreign organizations, including religious ones (Chapter X). The system will be somewhat on the lines of that under Suharto in Indonesia. Every citizen has the right to vote and be elected, but whether this applies to associate citizens and naturalized citizens (under 1982 legislation) is unclear.

How the various local and regional governments will interact with the thirteen military districts and their commanders is unclear, as these relationships have not been mentioned within the constitution.

The Burmese will say to the outside world that they have made good on their promise to bring democracy to Myanmar, whereas many Western states will question that conclusion. The military will claim, with a certain justification, that it has provided more local authority to some of the minorities than heretofore, and in some sense that will be true. But it will be far less than the federalist structure that most of the major minorities had wanted, and military control will still exist at local
levels. It seems likely that ASEAN and the United Nations will claim that some progress has taken place and that the rights specified in the constitution should be protected.

The elections that follow in 2010 present a dilemma for those in opposition. Some say that a 75 percent elected body is better than the present conditions, where there is no voice in the administration and the military government rules by decree. Others claim that if the opposition groups agree to the election, they are in effect invalidating the results of the May 1990 election, which, of course, the military hopes will happen. Who will have the right to vote? The members of the
sangha
will not be allowed to vote. Aung San Suu Kyi cannot be president, but could she run for the assembly? Would she if she could? These are issues that at this writing are still unclear.

As one foreign academician wrote, under the new constitution the role of the military in Myanmar will change from “ruler-military” to “parent-guardian military,” but there should be no doubt as to where essential power lies.

The generalizations that follow—as difficult to form as they are necessary if we are to gauge and anticipate the country’s prospects—should not be interpreted as either rigid or deterministic. They lie along a spectrum, one in the eyes of this writer, and are tendencies that if properly and judiciously considered should enable us to look toward the future more realistically and anticipate the changes that will inevitably occur. As we have seen in other societies, development predictions are difficult, and political and other cultural attributes morph over time. Broad characterizations of the political culture of peoples, societies, and even regimes can lead to miscalculations and erroneous policies, so as important as such generalizations may be, caution is in order. How much the analysis that follows simply reflects tendencies reinforced by this or any military command system rather than one inherent in Burman society is an issue that only the future will reveal.

Whatever our assumptions about specific events, we should broadly estimate the social forces that affect politics even as we should recognize that these tendencies will shift over time, in accordance with good Buddhist teachings on the impermanence of all things. One broad assumption is necessary if we are to consider the future over the next half-decade and beyond: the 2010 elections will be carried out and a new government formed in line with the provisions of the constitution approved
in 2008. That is the most likely scenario. The possibility that some untoward events might take place that would prevent the election from occurring and that some elements internally would be able to form a new government, perhaps of mixed military-civilian character, is remote and seems highly unlikely at this writing. This could occur, however, either through the evolution of military leadership or in the streets. In any case, change
will
occur minimally through a generational shift, and it is important that this change be anticipated and planned for. External observers need to be in a position to understand the challenges with which any new government must cope.

Whatever the administration that finds itself in power, it will be faced by a series of dire internal problems (outlined in
chapter 1
) it must deal with, and it will likely do so within the context of how power is viewed throughout that society (in both the military and civilian sectors) and the consequences of such concepts of authority. It will also have to cope with an external environment likely to become more complex and diverse, requiring considerable diplomatic skills both on the part of the Burmese and among foreign observers. How much the 2008 constitution might affect the generalized notions that follow is unknown; it might mitigate or exacerbate some of the traits.

History matters, and culture is important. They are not residual categories of analysis, as some social scientists might claim, but are central to understanding societies. Traditional concepts of the state in Burma and the status of its leadership derive from an Indian model of the god-king and the capital and palace as Mount Meru, the center of the universe. However remote, abstruse, and even unconscious these concepts may seem, they remain relevant today, if only in symbolic form. Naypyidaw may not be the center of the universe, but the way
it has been fashioned bespeaks its symbolic importance and almost regal quality. The head of state remains inextricably linked to Buddhism, if not as defender of the faith (e.g., the Thai monarch) then as a devout adherent whose legitimacy is in part dependent on this relationship. This is constantly reaffirmed in the Burmese media but is now questionable after the suppression of the monks in the fall of 2007. The building of the massive Uppatasanti Pagoda (only one foot lower than the Shwedagon in Yangon) at Naypyidaw, dedicated in March 2009, serves to legitimate the regime, the capital, its leader, and his family. Political atavism is said to be a characteristic of Burmese politics; past patterns of governance persist today. Widespread belief in reincarnation may contribute to such atavism.

The ruler (and the military) claim to rule with
metta
, or Buddhist loving kindness, and thus such acts are not to be disparaged: their motivations are pure, and their edicts thus must be obeyed.

Power is unconsciously conceived as finite, not infinite as in “modern” administrative theory.
Ana
(coercive power) is conceptually different from
awza
(the power or influence of moral authority, charisma), although they may occur in a single individual (e.g., Aung San). The military is said to have the former but lacks the latter, which Aung San Suu Kyi is said to possess.

There is an unwillingness to share power since, because it is finite, to do so diminishes the authority of the leader. Power is thus a zero-sum game. Advocating power-sharing political systems becomes difficult at best. The status of the leadership and the finite nature of power thus leads to its personalization. Loyalty is to the individual with power (this particular king, chairman, leader, etc.), not to the institution. This has been evident from the Pagan Dynasty and since then throughout all the kings and in the republic. This has also been apparent under U Nu, Ne Win, and now Than Shwe. The authority of the leader is reinforced in the popular mind because in traditional Buddhist terms he has come to power through his good
karma; although present peccadilloes or offenses may result in dire reincarnation consequences, in some sense he deserves the position he holds. It is unclear how much this belief has eroded in modern, urbanized settings, such as urbanized but still devoutly Buddhist Thailand. The centrality of personal relationships diminishes the effectiveness of institutional relationships, the institutions themselves, and the continuity of institutional policies/priorities. Thus, personalized “policy” is more important than law.

Personalization of power leads to loyalty (but not necessarily competence) as the prime requisite of hierarchical relationships outside the
sangha
and mistrust of those outside of the relationship (who must be loyal to someone else, which partly explains why the military generally distrusts civilians). There is thus a lack of institutional trust (social capital) except as reflected through this personalized channel, and even that can be ephemeral. One exception where there is social capital is at the level of the village or local Buddhist monastery and those who support it.

Power is dependent on developing entourages through personal loyalties, which encourages factionalism. This entourage system has been called the patron–client relationship or clientelism. (In Burmese, it is called
saya-tapyit
, or teacher–pupil relationship.) Because military members have been in leadership positions for almost half a century, such power entourages are usually dominated by the military, and there is a profound distrust within the military of civilian leaders and civilian-controlled institutions at all levels. Many nonmilitary organizations are likely to be controlled by retired military, and retired military people will be prominent in the proposed legislature.

These entourages tend to become unstable over time as some make attempts to vie for leadership. This instability or insecurity is apparent in the society at large—at personal, institutional, and even at national levels (fears of invasion, subversion, cultural hegemony, etc.), and results in national paranoia
(with some historical justification), suspicion, and a lack of confidence in planning for the future. This may be traced to karmic considerations, historical roots, and/or personal upbringing, although this is speculation, and too little is known about causes.

There is a strong hierarchical system within Burmese society that tends to enhance the authority of the leader and his or her power. This has been reinforced by a military command system and is further solidified by the concept of
a-na-de
, or unwillingness to embarrass the leadership (or any social superior) by bringing bad news, or causing someone to be uncomfortable. Thus, statistics and data are manipulated by underlings to please the apex of the hierarchy. This pervades the system from the bottom, and planning is characterized by often unrealistic quotas or targets that are often falsely reported as having been fulfilled. This extends to unsubstantiated but internationally reported economic statistics, providing an atmosphere in which the leadership may not recognize deleterious conditions beneath them as they are fed specific but spurious data (e.g., economic growth rates officially were 12.4 percent in 2007 but were estimated at 0.6 percent by foreign economists). There is, thus, what has been called “mutually strategic ignorance,” in which both the apex and the base of the power ladder are intentionally kept ill-informed of existential conditions; this makes planning exceedingly difficult.

The role of the state has been preeminent historically (including during the colonial period) and is likely to continue because of the powerful position of any political leader. Thus, not only will governance tend to be centralized, but (as historically and under the previous military government) a market economy is likely to be subject to severe restrictions and state influence.

Succession remains at the whim of the leader and is subject to change. Even under proposed constitutional provisions, personal influence will likely be the critical factor within such administrative strictures. Succession plans, if they exist, are
kept secret to ensure that the power of the leader remains undiminished and potential adversaries are kept off-balance. The leader neither shares plans nor consults easily because this would diminish his or her power and perceived authority. Thus, what the leader may think, plan, or advocate at any time may be obscure even to his or her closest associates.

Any alternative center of power is viewed as a new, potentially destabilizing influence in the zero-sum game and is considered with suspicion. There are thus strong forces working against institutional pluralism (an autonomous legislature or judicial system), regional political autonomy, and the development of civil society, although nonthreatening fragments of civil society may emerge at local levels. Even state-sponsored groups in local communities, however, may develop particularized interests that create modest, localized centers of apolitical pluralism.

Information is an aspect of power and is not to be lightly shared. It should be controlled (e.g., via the media). If shared, there is a tendency to manipulate timing and data for power purposes (e.g., production figures, statistics on money supply, inflation, budgets, company reports, etc.). Decisions that are reached at the apex may be publicly implemented without warning, reinforcing the power of the leader(s) but resulting in frustration for those affected both within and outside the regime entourage.

To ensure power and the cohesiveness of the entourage, orthodoxy of views is generally required on important issues, and dialogue on policies does not seem to be possible once a leader issues authoritative decisions. Even mundane questions may not be brought to the attention of senior leadership unless that supreme leader first raises them.

The effectiveness of entourages requires the distribution of assets (financial, prestige, rewards, lower levels of power) both down the system from the top and, in the case of loyalty and financial assets, up from the bottom. Because official salaries are low and inflation normally high, subsidies at best and
usually rent-seeking and corruption are required to generate the funds to make the entourage system work. This system extends into economic and business matters. Efforts to eliminate corruption, however necessary, by exemplary dismissals or arrests are unlikely to affect the systemic problem except for short periods and with only localized results.

Because the leader has great powers symbolically and in practice and conceives of himself in imperial style, he is able—and has the moral authority and, indeed, imperative—to intervene into society at all levels to achieve his—and by direct association and implication—national ends. Because his role is “undifferentiated,” there is no effective separation of powers; an independent judiciary or a neutral adjudicative body is difficult to achieve, and thus there are few checks on his authority, although senior Buddhist abbots might play such roles. These interventions, including the formation of economic policies, are based more on personal inclination and the limited experience of the leader. Because he does not necessarily consult with others who might appropriate his position, such policies are subject to constant, unpredictable changes. Thus, enforcement of edicts are based on “policy” (what the leadership determines as desirable at any point) and not on law, which is more constant. This has important implications for foreign or internal investment, which is based on reasonable predictability (e.g., no sudden or seemingly arbitrary changes in foreign trade regulations). This may partly explain the sudden shifts in policies (e.g., the energy subsidy issue in 2007) for which there had been no public preparations.