The average Dartmouth student, let alone the average American, probably at best knows little to nothing about Myanmar, and at worst mistakes it for an island off of East Africa.
During three weeks of travel around this nation of 57 million, formerly known as Burma, I did not meet one other American. Not one. Germans, Australians and the Japanese, among others, have been flocking here since the military junta in control -- catchily still referred to as SLORC -- eased their entrance requirements a decade ago. In a country with the landmass of Alaska, where unemployment sits at 90 percent and the average annual income is $200, tourism has been a boon to an economy that was at a virtual standstill throughout the 1980s.
Unless one makes a concerted effort to avoid government-run operations, those invaluable dollars go back into the pockets of the generals who grounded this place.
During my first week, I attempted to travel down to the coast on the Andaman Sea in an effort to volunteer with the Red Cross at a refugee camp set up there for tsunami victims. The Burmese coast stretches nearly 2,000 km from Thailand to Bangladesh, and while only about 90 Burmese lost their lives to the tsunami, tens of thousands were displaced.
At two in the morning, halfway through the twelve-hour boat ride that would bring me to the camp, a group of soldiers dressed in upper-body fatigues, sarongs and sandals boarded the ship and demanded that I turn around. Through my guide, a local non-government-affiliated 72-year-old Christian with dentures and killer flatulence, I pleaded with them to let me continue, stressing the fact that I had brought toys, medical supplies and candy for children.
Even after offering them a substantial bribe, they demanded that I get off the boat. They stayed with me in a town with rudimentary facilities, a sinking dock, and absolutely no signs to describe where I was until a boat heading back up-river passed by. Incredibly frustrated by the whole experience, all I can say is that any regime that prohibits people from bringing aid to its people is destined to fall soon.
As rich and educated Americans, it is our responsibility to help topple this regime. Every local I spoke with in Myanmar loves America, wears America, dreams America. When asked what we as foreigners can do to help, the unanimous response is "bring democracy." So, I plead on behalf of the people sweeping the dirt on some dusty, hot sidewalk 5,000 miles from Hanover: do something.
"What?" you may ask. First, a bit more background.
In 1989, SLORC declared that there would be democratic elections in spring. The National League for Democracy quickly formed and chose the charismatic and popular daughter of a national hero, Aung San Suu Kyi, to run on behalf of the people.
Playing dirty, a nervous SLORC placed her under house arrest days before the election. In spite of this and other unfair tactics, the NLD captured over 85 percent of the vote. However, SLORC refused to allow the opposition to assume their parliamentary seats and arrested most leaders.
Although she was placed under house arrest, Aung San continued to fight for Myanmar's freedom and was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991. Since then she has repeatedly refused offers of freedom in exchange for exile.
Now, for your part. Write to your congressional representatives and let them know that the US should put pressure on SLORC to hold free and fair elections. We're doing it in Iraq, why not Myanmar?
With a week's worth of Iraq funding, we could bring 57 million Burmese the democracy, freedom and beginnings of prosperity they so desperately need and crave. Horse and buggy is the still the main form of transport here, and international phone calls cost over six dollars per minute.
Some parts of this country recall the 12th more than the 21st century. You don't need to come here and incite a revolt. But you should feel obligated to do something. Write to your representatives -- it's easy, and your voice for democracy will make a difference. Tell Congress that, as an American voter, Myanmar's freedom matters to you. The people here worship our country. Let's do what's right, and liberate theirs.
