TH #5 Preparing to Visit

Towards Home #5
Preparing to Visit

April, 1999

She constantly reminded me that one day she would have to return to Burma, that she counted on my support at that time, not as her due, but as a favour."
- Michael Aris (1991)

I only ask one thing, that should my people need me, you would help me to do my duty by them … . Sometimes I am beset by fears that circumstances and national considerations might tear us apart just when we are so happy in each other that separation would be a torment. And yet … I am sure that love and compassion will triumph in the end.

- Daw Aung San Suu Kyi (in a letter to Michael Aris, 1972 )


As I write this newsletter, I sit in a hotel room in Mae Sot on the Thai-Burma border, CNN coverage of "Airstrike on Yugoslavia" muted, Sarah McClachlan turned up on the CD player to drown out the Thai pop music blasting from the close-by market. I've come to the border to write a feature article about the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees' (UNHCR) recent involvement in the refugee camps that dot the border.

The on-the-spot information that I am able to get about the UNHCR contrasts with the limitations of mainstream, sound-bite CNN coverage of the conflict in Yugoslavia. The challenge of writing the UNHCR article is to not polarize the analysis, but rather to articulate the complexity of the situation, praising some aspects and criticizing others. Meanwhile, it's hard to find any shades of analysis in the coverage of Kosovo; I crave some mention of the root problems or an interview with someone critical of Milosovic who also opposes the airstrikes.

And so my thoughts turn to the abundance of perspectives and analysis that spoiled me during my four years in Washington, DC. I want access to not only major newspapers, but to people and organizations who could offer alternative perspectives on various situations. I want to attend a panel discussion and if the situation calls for it, to take to the street and protest.

It has not been until this last month that I have experienced such strong feelings of craving "home." Perhaps it's natural that as I realize that my return is closely approaching, my thoughts turn to those things in the U.S. that I cannot get here. The greatest part of being back will be enjoying the company of family and friends. In each new place I've been, the loneliness of starting out with no established friendships is the hardest part, and being in Thailand has been no exception. Although I've set down roots with many people here, they are all only a year old. The depth and strength of 5-, 10-, 30-year-old roots will be of great comfort to me.

The list I'm compiling of "things to do in the U.S." might well lead to my visit being dubbed the "Indulgence Tour": Ben and Jerry's ice cream, microbrewed beer, live music, an evening of cards (anyone game for "I Want"), Sunday morning with The New York Times, alternative movies, music stores with CD's by Cheryl Wheeler and Patty Griffin, speaking Spanish and dancing salsa … . Will two months be enough? Probably. I predict that after two months I will be quite anxious to return to Thailand.

Katy gave me care-package preview of all the good stuff I'd been missing when she visited in late 1998.

I do have some anxiety about being in the States. I'm sure I'll talk too much. I'll miss the activity here, and given the volatility of politics in Burma, I could miss a major event. I also think it may be hard to explain why I will be returning to Thailand and how I've dealt with this year. I received several supportive messages in response to my last newsletter about being publicly lambasted for making a decision to moderate the information forum that I manage. The gist of those messages was, "people should be grateful for your contributions and you don't need to tolerate criticism." But figuring out my role as an outsider in the Burmese struggle has been an ongoing process, and I have learned that the responsibility I feel to contribute to the struggle does not give me the right to contribute in any way I want to. That dilemma emerges repeatedly in most decisions I make. On a larger scale, it also explains the variance in policy among the international community, which often seems to be at odds with itself.

The privilege of having the freedom to visit friends and family hit home quite acutely when I learned of the death of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi's husband, Dr. Michael Aris. He died of colon cancer in London last weekend without having fulfilled his final wish of seeing his wife again, whom he had not seen for over three years. The military government of Burma had denied him a visa to visit Suu Kyi to say goodbye, and she refused to leave the country because it is quite likely that the SPDC would not have allowed her to return. For the same reason, she will not go to the funeral. Her belief that she will not be allowed back in the country is substantiated by the frequent attacks over the past ten years that have called her a "lackey" of western governments because of her marriage to a Briton. The regime has even threatened to take away her Burmese passport and "deport" her.

The statements from the military junta on the topic of Michael Aris's illness ranged from callous to absurd. One journalist suggested it was like reading international human rights documents upside down. Some samples:

After a junta spokesperson went to Suu Kyi's home and suggested she fly to Britain:

"Regretfully, [Daw Aung San Suu Kyi] refused the Government's offer and the discussion abruptly ended with the officer being indicated to leave her residence. It is the time that material ambitions should be put aside, humanitarian needs being put in the forefront with compassion and human values being prioritized.

In response to international criticism for its lack of humanitarianism:

What is the humanitarian thing to do? one might ask. Is it sending a gravely ill patient halfway round the world so that his healthy wife in Myanmar could continue to practice her politics, OR is it asking her to leave local politics for a while, fly to his beside so that he may not be deprived of his environment, his sons and the high standard of medical care that Britain could provide in this crucial phase of his illness.

News now emerging from Burma indicates that during her husband's final days, the military regime consistently cut off the phone line while the couple was talking. They even followed her to friend's houses and cut off those lines. Now, she is having similar problems trying to speak to her two sons in Britain to make the funeral arrangements. Alexander and Kim, who are 25 and 20 years old respectively, have requested visas to come be with her, but given the heartless treatment the family has received up to this point, it is not likely they will be granted permission to visit their mother.

To not go to her dying husband's bedside and to not be with her sons during a time of tremendous grief must have been heart-wrenching decisions, which is probably what the regime was hoping for. The generals think they will break her will, but she is strong and confident and will endure. In responding to sympathetic suggestions that she is perhaps sacrificing too much, she has tried to depersonalize the issue by recalling the thousands of other families (who do not share her high profile) separated by exile and prison walls, who cannot be together during times of crisis and death. The generals, meanwhile, come across as callous and barbaric. For people reading about and working with people fleeing the human rights abuses every day, this comes as no surprise. But maybe it will jolt the diplomatic community out of their illusion that engagement with thugs will see some benefit.

The poignancy of the latest "Lady and the Generals," good-versus-evil drama gives me pause as I make arrangements to return home. I do not have to worry (much) about international borders, my eventual return, or the political implications of my trip. Suu Kyi's reminder of the many other families torn apart by the repression of the military regime also prompts me to value more deeply the friends and family that I will be so happy to see in the next couple of months.