| Migrants to Start Receiving Regular Passports Posted: 16 Oct 2013 03:49 AM PDT  A Burmese temporary passport, right, and a Thai work permit (Photo: Nyein Nyein / The Irrawaddy) Burma's Ministry of Labor has announced plans to start issuing regular passports to Burmese migrants in Thailand from next month. The passports, which are the same as those issued by the Ministry of Home Affairs in Rangoon, will replace temporary passports that are valid only in Thailand. The goal of the new policy is to treat migrant workers like other Burmese citizens, Kyaw Kyaw Lin, the labor attaché at the Burmese embassy in Bangkok, told The Irrawaddy. He said the ministry decided to issue the standard red passport to all migrant workers starting from Oct. 21. He added, however, that the ministry won't be ready to fully implement its plans until its offices in border towns reopen next month. The passports will also be available to Burmese migrants employed in Thailand's fishing industry, who are among the most exploited group of workers in the country. "We are now trying to issue passport to workers in the fishing industry along the Thailand coast," said Kyaw Kyaw Lin. Burma's government has been issuing temporary passports to migrants in Thailand since 2009, when the two countries began a National Verification process that aimed to allow Burmese migrants to legally reside in Thailand on two-year visas. So far, around 1.7 million Burmese migrants have been issued with temporary passports, while another 1.3 million remain undocumented, according to labor rights groups. Despite efforts to improve the legal status of Burmese workers in Thailand, rights groups say many remain vulnerable to exploitation by brokers who offer to help them complete the registration process. Human trafficking, facilitated by the forging of legal documents, remains rampant, they say. Asked if issuing standard passports to migrant workers would help to resolve some of these problems, Kyaw Kyaw Lin declined to comment. For its part, the Thai government will continue to issue two-year visas and one-year work permits, regardless of the type of passport held by migrants. It remains unclear if migrants will be required to replace their temporary passports with standard passports, although anybody seeking to extend their current documents will be expected to apply for a regular passport, said Kyaw Kyaw Lin. "A timeframe will be set for migrant workers to change their passports, but I cannot say yet exactly when," he said. One major advantage of the new passports is that they will be valid for travel anywhere within the 10-member Association of Southeast Asian Nations. Speaking on condition of anonymity, a Burmese labor agent in the northern Thai city of Chiang Mai said many migrants are interested in the new passport scheme, as it would mean more freedom to go to countries other than Thailand. The post Migrants to Start Receiving Regular Passports appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| The Suffering of ‘Dogs’: Rohingya Kids in Northern Arakan Posted: 15 Oct 2013 11:16 PM PDT  Young Rohingya girls stay at a primary school several kilometers outside of Sittwe, where hundreds of Rohingyas took shelter from a storm in May. (Photo: Jpaing / The Irrawaddy) MAUNGDAW — The 10-year-old struggles up the hill, carrying buckets filled with rocks. Though he tries to keep a brave face in front of his friends, his eyes brim with tears. Every inch of his body aches, he says, and he feels sick and dizzy from the weight. "I hate it," whispers Anwar Sardad. He has to help support his family, but he wishes there was a way other than working for the government construction agency. He adds, "I wouldn’t have to live this life if I wasn’t a Muslim." The lives of hundreds of thousands of Rohingya children like Anwar are growing more hopeless in Burma, even as the predominantly Buddhist nation of 60 million wins praise for ending decades of dictatorship. The Muslim ethnic group has long suffered from discrimination that rights groups call among the worst in the world. But here in northern Arakan state, home to 80 percent of the country’s 1 million Rohingya, it is more difficult now for children to get adequate education, food or medical care than it had been in the days of the junta. They have few options beyond hard labor, for a dollar a day. The Associated Press’ visit to the area was a first for foreign reporters. Local officials responded with deep suspicion, bristling when Rohingya were interviewed. Police meetings were called, journalists were followed and people were intimidated after being interviewed, including children. In a country torn by ethnic violence over the last 15 months, this is the one region where Muslim mobs killed Buddhists, rather than the other way around. And although only 10 of the 240 deaths occurred here, this is the only region where an entire population has been punished, through travel restrictions and other exclusionary policies. Muslim schools known as madrassas have been shut down, leading to crowding in government schools, where Rohingya, who make up 90 percent of the population in this corner of the country, are taught by Buddhist teachers in a language many don’t understand. In the village of Ba Gone Nar, where a monk was killed in last year’s violence, enrollment at a small public school has soared to 1,250. Kids ranging from preschoolers to eighth-graders are crammed so tightly on the floor it’s nearly impossible to walk between them. "Our teachers write a lot of things on the blackboard, but don’t teach us how to read them," says 8-year-old Anwar Sjak. "It’s very difficult to learn anything in this school." There are only 11 government-appointed teachers — one for every 114 students. On a day of the reporter's visit, they fail to show up — a common occurrence. Rohingya volunteers try to maintain order. One man circles the room with a rattan cane, silencing the chatter by whacking the trash-strewn concrete floor. Few kids have chairs or desks. Many are coughing. Others talk among themselves, flipping through empty notebooks. They look up at newcomers with dazed stares. "If I could be anything, I’d be doctor when I grow up," Anwar says. "Because whenever someone in my family gets sick and we go to the hospital, the staff never takes care of us. I feel so bad about that. "But I know that will never happen," the third-grader adds. "The government wouldn’t allow it." Rohingya are not allowed to study medicine in Burma. There are no universities in northern Arakan, and Rohingya there have been barred from leaving the area for more than a decade. An exception that allowed a few Rohingya to study in Sittwe, the state capital, ended after last year’s bloodshed. "They don’t want to teach us," says Soyed Alum, a 25-year-old from the coastal village of Myinn Hlut who holds private classes in his home for Rohingya kids. "They call us ‘kalar’ [a derogatory word for Muslim]. They say, ‘You’re not even citizens. Why do you need an education?’" Every year, thousands of Rohingya flee northern Arakan and take perilous sea journeys in hopes of finding refuge in other countries. Because of the recent sectarian violence, in which 250,000 people, mostly Rohingya, were driven from their homes, right workers anticipate that one of the biggest exoduses ever will begin as soon as the monsoon season ends this month and seas in the region calm. Some historians say Rohingyas have been in northern Arakan for centuries, though some living there now migrated from neighboring Bangladesh more recently. All are denied citizenship, rendering them stateless. "They are all illegal," state advocate general Hla Thein says flatly. They remain barred from becoming citizens, or from working in civil-service jobs. No Rohingya birth certificates have been handed out since the mid-1990s. Rohingya children are "blacklisted" — denied even basic services — if their parents are not officially married or previously reached a two-child limit that is imposed exclusively on their ethnic group. The official neglect commonly stretches into hatred. A government minder assigned by the central government to facilitate the AP’s trip asks why they are so eager to interview "dogs." When young Rohingya girls peer into the open windows of the crew’s vehicle, the minder bitterly mumbles crude sexual insults at them. One thing the government does offer Rohingya kids is work, even if they are as young as 10. The Ministry of Construction, one of the bigger employers, offers them 1,000 kyat — a dollar — for eight hours of collecting and carrying rocks under the tropical sun. Early in the morning, giant pickup trucks swing by villages to pick up dozens of sleepy-eyed boys — all of them Rohingya — and deliver them to riverbeds. "See? They want to work," says U Hla Moe, the administrator of Lay Maing. Later that day, he will summon children who were interviewed by reporters into his office — for the AP’s security, he says. The children say he frightens them as he demands to know the questions they were asked and their answers. Among the kids called in is Anwar Sardad, the 10-year-old stone carrier. From 8 a.m. until dusk, he works alongside his twin brother and five or six other boys from their village, scooping up river rocks and briskly carrying them up a hill. They look more like little men than boys: No smiles. Each step sturdy and determined. Not an ounce of energy wasted. Anwar is exhausted but works fast. He even stops to help friends when they struggle with their buckets. Though the work is grueling, it will help the children and their families eat. The region has some of the country’s highest chronic malnutrition rates, according to a report released last year by the European Commission Humanitarian Aid and Civil Protection Department. That deprivation severely affects mental and physical development. The work of humanitarian organizations has been greatly limited in northern Arakan. A lack of vaccination coverage in the neglected area means they are exposed to almost every preventable childhood disease, says Vickie Hawkins, the deputy head of mission in Burma for Doctors Without Borders, which has worked in the area for 15 years. If Rohingya children get critically ill, they might never make it to a hospital, either because their families cannot afford bribes demanded at checkpoints or because of the Sittwe travel ban. Mohamad Toyoob, a 10-year-old Rohingya, has received medical care, but not the surgery that doctors have recommended. He lifts up his shirt, pressing on the right side of his stomach, where he has felt sharp pain for the past three years. "I don’t know what’s wrong," he says. "It feels like there is something inside." One diagnosis among the stack he has saved says "abdominal mass," followed by a series of question marks. The doctors Mohamad saw at a limited-capacity public hospital are unable to perform the potentially life-saving surgery they recommended. To get it, he would have to go to Sittwe, which is off-limits, or Bangladesh. The latter is possible, if his family pays hefty bribes, but he may not be able to get back home. Money is another obstacle: His family can’t even afford his medication, let alone surgery. He digs into a pocket and pulls out two little plastic bags filled with red, pink, yellow and light blue pills. They cost 200 kyat (20 cents) per day. To get the money, Mohamad works with other village kids at the riverbank, struggling to lift rocks. Sometimes it makes the pain worse. "My father lost his job after the violence," he says. "When he was working, we could afford it. But now we have nothing. I have to take care of myself." The post The Suffering of ‘Dogs’: Rohingya Kids in Northern Arakan appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| From Prison Cell to Cemetery Posted: 15 Oct 2013 11:13 PM PDT 
Wednesday is the seven-year anniversary of the death in custody of well-known student activist Thet Win Aung. In this cover story, which first appeared in the August 2001 print issue of The Irrawaddy Magazine, English edition editor Kyaw Zwa Moe writes about how the former military regime's control over the lives of political prisoners often extended as far as their graves. On June 12 and July 12 this year (2001), two people passed away from AIDS-related diseases in Burma. Exactly one month after Bo Ni Aung died on June 12, 2001, Si Thu, also known as Ye Naing, succumbed to that incurable syndrome. These days, in fact, it seems to be nothing unusual or surprising when we hear about more victims of HIV/AIDS. Yet the true story shows that these two were not so much victims of AIDS, but of Burma's ruling junta, which calls itself the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC). Both of them died as a result of the junta's inhumane treatment of prisoners. Bo Ni Aung, 42, had been a political prisoner who was set free in the middle of 1999, having spent more than eight years in two disreputable prisons, Insein and Thayet. Si Thu died while being detained under Article 10(a) of the State Protection Act in Tharawaddy prison. Aged 35, he was a former student activist who had been incarcerated for 11 years in Insein and Tharawaddy, not far from the Burmese capital. After the 1988 pro-democracy uprising, Bo Ni Aung went to the Thai-Burma border to join the All Burma Students' Democratic Front (ABSDF). After some time, he returned secretly to the country, but was arrested for his involvement with the ABSDF in 1991. Military Intelligence (MI), the junta's secret police, used various forms of torture on him to get the information they wanted. One of these was to forcibly inject him with a drug to make him talk unconsciously about everything he knew. When I met him in the Insein annex jail, known as the Special Prison, he recounted that he didn't know what kind of drug it was, but he said he was terrified of the possible effects. This caused him to suffer from extreme paranoia. As a result of being brutally tortured, he suffered from one disease or another throughout his prison term. For him, the MI interrogation center was the threshold of Hell. After suffering these hardships at the MI center, he was thrown into Insein Prison where he was sentenced to 20 years' imprisonment, which was later reduced to 10 years in accordance with a decree issued in 1993 that halved the sentences of all political prisoners. From this time, his health started to deteriorate rapidly. Though he was transferred to Thayet Prison, he was soon sent back to Insein Special Prison to be given medical treatment. Yet, as with many other prisoners, he never received appropriate medical treatment. He was suffering from problems such as a weak heart, hypertension and mental illness, but he was not permitted to see the regular physician. In addition, he often had seizures, for which he was injected with a sedative at least two or three times a week, which seemed to make him even more scared. He was frequently sent to the so-called hospital in prison, where there were just three physicians for almost 10,000 prisoners. There was very little medicine, no operating room, and no medical instruments in this "hospital". Two hundred or so patients would go to the outpatients' clinic at the hospital each day, only to find a notice reading, "Only 10 needles and 5 syringes available today." The number changed from day to day, but only slightly. Even worse, nobody knew if those few needles were used for the patients or not. Bo Ni Aung was never allowed to go to other hospitals. Later, when the jail physicians recommended that he be hospitalized outside of the prison because of his worsening health, the MI refused. It was never a physician, but always the MI, that decided whether or not a political prisoner should be treated in an outside hospital. One day, an MI agent came to the jail hospital and told Bo Ni Aung that if he wanted to be treated at the Rangoon General Hospital, he would have to agree to sign a statement promising not to say anything about torture in the MI center. Bo Ni Aung refused. Afterwards, he told me: "I couldn't promise not to say anything about MI's brutal torture in order to get treatment, because they are trying to cover up the truth." Despite his declining health, he survived his long prison term. After he was released, we ran into each other at the Kaba Aye Pagoda and he said that he was going to the hospital near the pagoda once a week to receive treatment. I was struck dumb with grief, because in the center of Rangoon, that is the sole psychiatric hospital for mental patients. Bo Ni Aung is not the only political prisoner who has died on account of the military regime. On one single day—March 18, 1988—about 200 protesters, including university students and schoolchildren, were slain by a death squad in Insein prison. According to the book Death in Custody, published by the Irrawaddy Publishing Group in 1999, 48 political detainees have died in prisons and interrogation centers since the regime put down a nationwide pro-democracy uprising in 1988. To my knowledge, at least five other political prisoners' names belong on this revised list. They are: U Tun Sein, who was also a prisoner of conscience in the Coco Islands under the dictator Ne Win, died while suffering from various diseases at Insein prison hospital in 1994. Aung Naing, who was given a 7-year sentence in connection with his role in the 1996 student movement, died of appendicitis at the end of 1997. A physician had given him a date to undergo surgery, but shortly thereafter he was transferred to Kale (Kalay) prison in Sagaing Division, many hundreds of miles away from the capital. The authorities ignored his poor health, and he took his last breath inside those walls. Nyunt Zaw, who as a university student took an active part in the 1988 pro-democracy movement, passed away in Tharawaddy prison at the beginning of 2000, at the age of 34. In 1991, he was given a ten-year sentence under section 5(j) of the Emergency Provisions Act. Due to clandestine political activity inside Insein prison, his sentence was increased by seven years, along with 24 other political prisoners, including U Win Tin, an aging journalist who was bestowed this year's UNESCO Guillermo Cano World Press Freedom Award. According to prison officials, Nyunt Zaw died of liver disease. Prior to his death in the prison hospital, he wrote a note on a scrap of paper and gave it to a fellow inmate. On it, he wrote: "I know my condition is not good. If I die now, then I will no longer be able to take responsibility for my family. But I am satisfied with myself because I have done what I can for my country." The two others are Bo Ni Aung and Si Thu, mentioned above. The book Death in Custody mentions three other political prisoners who have died of AIDS-related diseases: U Hla Than, National League for Democracy (NLD) MP-elect for Coco islands; U Kin Sein, from the People's Progressive Party (PPP); and Thu Ta, a postgraduate student. So Bo Ni Aung and Si Thu should be classified together with them. According to the most recent figures compiled by the Assistance Association for Political Prisoners (Burma) the death toll of political prisoners who have died in detention is 68. Of course, in reality, there have probably been many other detainees besides political prisoners who have died of AIDS-related diseases. I remember vividly seeing long queues of Thai prisoners waiting to be injected against scabies. At the head of the queue stood a male nurse who had just a couple of syringes for the dozens of patients. Behind him, his assistant, a prisoner, was busy refilling a used syringe for the next patient in line. The reused needles and syringes were never cleaned. Every prisoner realized that the nurse knew little about health and medicine, because he was not a real nurse, just an ordinary warden. Many Thai prisoners were sent to the prison hospital, and although some of them returned after being discharged from the hospital, several of them succumbed to AIDS-related diseases. We might expect that the deaths of Bo Ni Aung and Si Thu would finally bring them freedom from oppression. Yet for political activists in Burma, even this is not the case. For days before Bo Ni Aung's death, the MI secretly photographed and videotaped his friends as they came to visit him at his deathbed. In a similar manner, the police and MI agents of Tharawaddy Township watched over Si Thu's funeral. As Bo Ni Aung's cremation was held under the watch of MI personnel in a Rangoon cemetery, Si Thu was buried in a Tharawaddy graveyard in front of the secret police. Thus does the junta extend its control over the lives of political prisoners, until nothing remains of them but memories in the minds of their loved ones. The post From Prison Cell to Cemetery appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| Seven Years on, Student’s Family Hopes History Will Not Be Repeated Posted: 16 Oct 2013 03:00 AM PDT  The Irrawaddy cartoonist Harn Lay's cartoon from October 2006 commemorating the death in custody of Thet Win Aung. RANGOON — It was more than seven years ago that Mya Mya Aye talked her son for the last time. They chatted for an hour at a meeting area of Obo Prison in Mandalay. When they departed, the political prisoner said "Mum, take care of yourself." Ten months later, she saw him again. But Thet Win Aung was unable to greet her. Her youngest son was dead. "I was worried about him dying and suffering during his detention. But it really happened," the 83-year old mother said with a sigh. The family on Wednesday will mark the seventh anniversary of the death of its youngest member. "All I can do now is just pray not to face that kind of bad time again," she added, her voice shaking. According to the Thailand-based Assistance Association for Political Prisoners (Burma), Thet Win Aung is among 130 political prisoners who have died in custody—often having been subjected to inhumane torture or having had medical treatment withheld—inside prisons across Burma since 1988, when the nation rose up in an attempt to topple one-party rule. Family members said the 34-year old had suffered from heart disease and malaria after not receiving proper medical treatment. He was serving a 59-year prison sentence, beginning in 1998, for his political beliefs. "He only had medicine provided by the International Committee of the Red Cross [ICRC] to rely on," his father Win Maung told The Irrawaddy. "But with the government's suspension on the ICRC's prison visits at the time, his health seemed to deteriorate." Although it has been seven years now since the student activist succumbed to illness in prison in October 2006, Thet Win Aung's death is still a cruel and tragic reminder of how political prisoners were mistreated in custody. Prior to his transfer to Obo prison, Thet Win Aung served his sentence in Rangoon's notorious Insein prison, where he was interrogated and tortured by military police. Then he was sent to Kalay prison in northwestern Burma, where he went on strike for prisoners' rights. As a result, he was relocated to a more remote prison in Khamti, where malaria and other diseases are rampant. He went on strike again to request transfer to another prison, but his demands were met with more torture. Family members said he couldn't walk without assistance after the ordeal. "My younger brother, Thet Win Aung, is just another victim of the harsh conditions we faced in Burma's prisons," said Pyone Cho of the 88 Generation Peace and Open Society (formerly known as '88 Students Generation Group). Pyone Cho was five years older than his brother, and was himself a political prisoner for nearly 20 years before he was released in 2012. "We had to fight for our survival in the prison. That's what Thet Win Aung also went through," he said. "That kind of tragedy shouldn't be repeated again, especially at this time when we are going through a transition." Many political prisoners have been released since a nominally civilian government took power in Burma in 2011, with 245 freed this year. However, advocates say 135 prisoners of conscience remain incarcerated in Burma's jails. Family members remember Thet Win Aung as a hardworking student who loved to read and relished a challenge. He was also a devoted Buddhist who never felt reluctant to help friends in need. To his friends, he was a man of seriousness with a slight smile on his face. When they were in need, Thet Win Aung was ready to give what he could. "He is a good boy with big heart" said his mother. For her, Thet Win Aung was a mummy's boy. Whenever he wanted something, he approached her first. When he was politically active, she would stay awake until he returned home, often in the small hours of the morning, to let him in and feed him. When both sons became involved in politics in 1988 (at the time Thet Win Aung was in high school and Pyone Cho was a university student), all Mya Mya Aye could do was pray for them. "They were not doing anything bad…. How could I stop them?" she said. "But I warned them to be careful whatever they did." According to one of his close friends, Min Zin, the late student activist was a good organizer. The two joined together to covertly organize a students' union in their high school and contacted other high school and university student activists to coordinate during the 1988 uprising. "He was very patient and very willing to listen to different ideas," he said. "He was very calm and never dogmatic." When he was first arrested in 1989, despite being severely tortured, Thet Win Aung refused to reveal any information about other activists he worked with. Min Zin used to ask him how he could manage to stay strong in face of such attempts to breaking your spirit. "He told me: 'The most important thing that enables me to keep going despite the up and down of my emotions is that I never give up my self-respect and my commitment to my colleagues,'" Min Zin recounted. "Those words were very simple, but they've always stayed with me, deep in my heart." Early on the morning of Oct. 16, 2006, Pyone Cho was jolted awake in a cell at a government interrogation center. "It was as if someone was pushing down on me hard. I took it as a bad omen that something bad was happening to someone in my family," he explained. He was not wrong. At nearly the same time, in a prison cell some 400 miles away, his baby brother collapsed and never came to. The family blames the military regime for Thet Win Aung's death, but seeking justice is another matter. "If they really cared about the country, political prisoners, including my son, wouldn't have died in the prison because every one of them was acting for the good of the country," said Win Maung, the father. "Naturally, there are many things that go against our wishes," the 84-year old said. "Seeking justice is the same… It depends on time and the situation. I just want what happened to us never to repeat in our history…. Not only to us, but to all." The post Seven Years on, Student's Family Hopes History Will Not Be Repeated appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| New Museum to Highlight Burma’s Pro-Democracy Struggle Posted: 15 Oct 2013 10:57 PM PDT  Tin Oo, a leader of the National League for Democracy (NLD), an opposition party, looks at a photograph at an exhibition in August to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the 1988 uprising. (Photo: JPaing / The Irrawaddy) RANGOON — Leading democracy activists in Burma say they will establish a museum by the end of this year to maintain and display historical records from decades of struggle against dictatorship. Photographs, documentary films, books and old newspaper clippings about Burma's democracy movement will also be on display at the museum in Rangoon, said Min Ko Naing, a leader of the 88 Generation Peace and Open Society group, at a press conference over the weekend. He called on members of the public to contribute to the collection. "Records about the struggle for democracy, beginning from the 1962 student movement to events in the present day, will be displayed at the museum," he said. Zaw Thet Htwe, from the implementation committee for the museum project, said the 88 Generation Peace and Open Society group aimed to open the museum as soon as possible. The group has not selected an exact location yet but plans to open the museum in the downtown area. Mya Aye, another member of the group, said he hoped that by revealing accounts from the days of dictatorship, the country could avoid repeating similar events in the future. "Depending on the attitude of the government, we will manage step by step until the museum has been founded," the activist said. Burma was ruled by military dictators for nearly half a century, from a military coup in 1962 until a nominally civilian government came to power in 2011. The post New Museum to Highlight Burma's Pro-Democracy Struggle appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| Shadow of Decade-old Crisis Looms over Credit Card Plans Posted: 15 Oct 2013 10:03 PM PDT  ATM machines are gradually being introduced in Rangoon and beyond. (Jpaing / The Irrawaddy) In a world where modern banking services are almost universal, few things shout "economic backwater" quite like the absence of ATMs and credit cards. These days, even Myanmar—which was for decades one of the world's most economically isolated countries—has a handful of ATMs in major urban centers, providing the sort of convenience that most of the rest of the world takes for granted. Credit cards, however, are still virtually unheard of here. Only a few major hotels and shops catering to foreign tourists will even consider accepting your Visa or MasterCard, much less cards issued by the Japan Credit Bureau (JCB) or China Union Pay—all of which got a green light to do business in Myanmar last October. So why has plastic been so slow to make inroads as the payment method of choice in Myanmar? The main reason is that domestic financial institutions have yet to be authorized to issue cards to local consumers; and that, in turn, goes back to events that rattled the country's Central Bank a decade ago, and continue to cause jitters even now. In early 2003, Myanmar experienced its worst financial crisis in recent memory. When several so-called "micro-finance groups" offering high rates of interest to depositors abruptly collapsed, it set off a panic that hit not only the informal banking sector but also government-registered private banks. Among the most prominent victims were Myanmar Mayflower Bank and Asia Wealth Bank. Although perhaps best known to foreign observers as the target of US sanctions for money laundering and ties to Myanmar's former military junta, at the time they were regarded by customers inside the country as cutting-edge innovators, with services like ATMS, credit cards and online banking. What they didn't have, however, was the backing of the Central Bank. "Unlike Kanbawza Bank, which had a deal with the Central Bank to protect deposits, [Mayflower and Asia Wealth] were on their own," recalled U Ye Min Oo, the managing director of Asia Green Development Bank (AGD). According to U Ye Min Oo, whose bank was founded in 2010 by U Tay Za, another US-sanctioned crony of the former regime, the crash of 2003 has had a chilling effect on efforts to modernize Myanmar's banks. "The former government thought that it was credit cards that caused the crisis, when in fact it all happened because of the illegally operating micro-finance groups," he told The Irrawaddy in a recent interview. But even if credit cards were not the undoing of two of Myanmar's best-known banks, the crisis exposed weaknesses in the way the new service was introduced to the local market, according to U Myat Thin Aung, the vice chairman of Yoma Bank, one of the survivors of the 2003 debacle. "The failure of the credit-card system was all the fault of the banks. They trusted their customers too much and didn't get enough detailed information from them. Spending got out of hand, and they weren't able to keep track of it," he explained. Whatever the setbacks of the past, U Myat Thin Aung said he is keen to see credit cards become as much as part of life here as they are in neighboring countries. "The Central Bank should allow local people to have credit cards, but it must be done in a way that minimizes risk," he said, suggesting that making debit cards more widely available might be a good place to start until ordinary consumers prove themselves more creditworthy. In any case, he said, there is an urgent need for Myanmar to move beyond its current cash-based transaction system. "Nobody likes to carry around a lot of dirty banknotes, but until 10,000 kyat notes were introduced last year, that's what I had to do when I wanted to treat business colleagues to dinner in restaurants," he said. Making it easier for consumers to make purchases would also help to stimulate demand, he added. "As long as the banks can rein in their customers, more spending would encourage people to work harder to buy modern products," said the Yoma Bank vice chairman, who is also the chairman of the Hlaing Tharyar Industrial Zone in Yangon. Despite the Central Bank's reluctance to give Myanmar consumers the convenience of credit cards, the Myanmar Payment Union (MPU)—which includes 14 of Myanmar's 19 privately owned banks—is moving forward with plans (approved by the Central Bank) to work together with Japan's JCB to expand its network of domestic debit-card users, who currently number around 200,000 nationwide, according to MPU figures. According to AGD Bank's U Ye Min Oo, cooperation with JCB to date has focused on enabling foreign JCB cardholders to use their cards in Myanmar; but the next step (due to be implemented in September) is to issue joint debit cards to Myanmar customers. "For example, we may issue an AGD-JCB card," he said, adding that China UnionPay has also started working toward a similar arrangement. The move could dramatically increase the number of businesses that accept MPU debit cards, which are now recognized at just 700 locations around the country. (In contrast, JCB cards are accepted by merchants and at cash advance locations in 190 countries and territories.) Taking the next step—issuing full-fledged credit cards—could have an even greater impact. "I believe that if the Central Bank allows us to issue credit cards, the small and medium enterprises will definitely develop and business will also progress," said U Ye Min Oo. But with even savings accounts still restricted to just one withdrawal per week since 2003, it appears that the Central Bank prefers to err on the side of caution. Until this changes, the chances of Myanmar becoming a cashless society—even as other credit-card giants such as US-based American Express and Diners Club International are knocking on the door—appear dim. This story first appeared in the October 2013 print issue of The Irrawaddy magazine. The post Shadow of Decade-old Crisis Looms over Credit Card Plans appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| Thai Princess Campaigns for Rule of Law Posted: 15 Oct 2013 10:51 PM PDT  Princess Bajrakitiyabha of Thailand addresses the Human Rights Council at the United Nations European headquarters in Geneva in this file photo from Sept. 14, 2009. (Photo: Reuters) UNITED NATIONS — A Thai princess who became a criminal prosecutor and launched a campaign to help incarcerated women is now embarking on a global campaign to promote the rule of law and make "equal justice" a UN goal. At the age of 34, Princess Bajrakitiyabha Mahidol is Thailand’s ambassador to Austria and to the UN agencies in Vienna, including the Office on Drugs and Crime. The eldest grandchild of King Bhumibol Adulyadej and the eldest child of Crown Prince Vajiralongkorn, she is also the driving force behind “The Bangkok Dialogue on the Rule of Law,” an international conference in the Thai capital on Nov. 15. The day-long conference will bring together several current and former world leaders—including Liberian President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and East Timor’s former president Jose Ramos Horta—as well as global experts to discuss how justice and the rule of law are crucial to reducing poverty and promoting peace and economic development. "Society cannot grow if there is instability and injustice," Princess Bajrakitiyabha said in an interview on Monday. "Without the rule of law, without a good justice system, it’s always chaos," she said. "I think the rule of law is a very important pillar to development, to economic growth, and of course to human rights." The princess, who is a staunch advocate of the rule of law, comes from a country whose lese majeste law protects the Thai monarchy from defamation. It is the world’s harshest and mandates a jail term of three to 15 years for violators. Thailand itself has faced long-running political turmoil that began with a 2006 military coup. It has left the country largely divided between supporters and opponents of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, who was ousted in the coup. Thailand’s Institute of Justice said the government is also hosting the conference to show its support for national reconciliation efforts, and "to help the people of Thailand understand how the rule of law helps to create a cohesive society and promote sustainable economic growth." The princess said one goal of the conference is to broaden the next set of UN development goals to include the rule of law. The Millennium Development Goals, adopted by world leaders in 2000, set target focused mainly on social development to be met by 2015 including reducing extreme poverty by half, ensuring a primary school education for every child, increasing access to clean water and sanitation and halting and reversing the HIV/AIDS pandemic. Princess Bajrakitiyabha said if she could write a rule of law goal for the next UN goals, from 2016 to 2030, "I would say the equal justice—effective, efficient and transparent justice systems for all." After attending law school in Thailand and getting her doctorate in law at Cornell University in Ithaca, NY, Princess Bajrakitiyabha spent a year at Thailand’s UN Mission in New York focusing on the General Assembly’s legal committee. She then returned to Thailand where she said she spent six years as a prosecutor, mainly focusing on criminal law. An advocate for women’s rights, she said she started a charity project called "Inspire" to help women "suffering hardship in prison, especially those pregnant and having babies … (who) touched me deep to my heart." The princess also spearheaded Thailand’s campaign for international rules on the treatment of women prisoners, which were adopted by the General Assembly in 2010. Thailand’s UN Mission is organizing a panel Wednesday to promote those rules, known as the Bangkok Rules. The post Thai Princess Campaigns for Rule of Law appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| Death Toll from Philippines Quake Nears 100, More People Missing Posted: 15 Oct 2013 09:52 PM PDT  Firefighters stand near destroyed vehicles covered with rubble after an earthquake struck Cebu city, in the central Philippines, on Oct. 15, 2013. (Photo: Reuters) The death toll from a strong earthquake in the central Philippines has risen to almost 100, officials said on Wednesday, and rescuers were digging through the rubble of a church and a hospital in search of more victims. At least 10 people were missing under the collapsed public hospital, church and a home in the town of Loon on Bohol Island, 630 km (390 miles) south of Manila, which bore the brunt of the 7.2 quake on Tuesday. The quake caused landslides and widespread damage to infrastructure in Bohol and nearby Cebu, with close to three million people affected. The number of people injured in the quake climbed towards 280. At least 90 of those killed were in Bohol, the national disaster agency said. Officials feared the toll would rise further as communications with damaged villages were re-established. "I think this is a growing number, yesterday we had a partial communications block-out," Loon mayor Lloyd Lopez told Philippine radio. At least a third of the deaths on Bohol Island were in Loon, a town of about 43,000 people. One of those was the body of a schoolgirl found late on Tuesday under the rubble of a collapsed high school in Maribojoc town, adjacent to Loon. "We have not reached all barangays (villages), many are cut off, the roads are blocked by big boulders," Lopez said. Another eight people were killed on Cebu and one on Siquijor Island, the disaster agency said. Many of the millions affected by the quake spent the night outdoors, including patients at some hospitals in Cebu, because of aftershocks. More than 800 aftershocks have been recorded, the disaster agency said. "There are so many aftershocks, we are afraid," Elena Manuel, a 64-year-old grandmother, told Reuters after her family and neighbors spent the night in the grounds of the centuries-old church that collapsed in Loon. "We don’t have any more food and water because stores are closed, and the bridge … is damaged. After the quake, water and mud came out of cracks on the ground in our backyard." Ferry and airline services have resumed despite damage to ports and airport structures in Bohol and Cebu. The air force was carrying 11 tonnes (25,000 lbs) of relief supplies to affected residents in Bohol Province, a military spokesman said. President Benigno Aquino was expected to visit evacuees in Tagbilaran City in Bohol on Wednesday. The last time a quake of similar magnitude hit Bohol Province was in 1602, said Trixie Angeles, a legal consultant who works at the National Commission on Culture and the Arts. The post Death Toll from Philippines Quake Nears 100, More People Missing appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
| ‘Third Sex’ Becomes a Political Force Posted: 15 Oct 2013 09:48 PM PDT  A reveler dances while taking part in a LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender) pride parade to mark the Gaijatra Festival, also known as the festival of cows, in Kathmandu on Aug, 22, 2013. The parade was organized to demand equal rights in society, according to participants. (Photo: Reuters) KATHMANDU, Nepal — In this capital city, ringed by hills, neighborhoods are marked by the weight of neglect. The office of the Blue Diamond Society (BDS), a group championing the cause of sexual minorities, is based in one crumbling setting. To get there, one journeys down a rocky road and a narrow winding lane, both of which are torn apart by potholes and muddy pools of water. It occupies an unremarkable, two-story building, set behind a rust-covered gate. Facing the BDS's office is an open field littered with garbage. Until the middle of this year, the only people familiar with such surroundings were the ones who regularly made the journey there—Nepal's eclectic mix of lesbians, gays, bisexuals and trangsgenders (LGBT). But not anymore. This everyday scene of Nepal's city life has become the setting for a remarkable political turn in the Himalayan nation. The clues lie in the unusual attention the building that houses BDS is attracting. The visitors dropping by to engage with the LGBT crowd are functionaries from the country's major political parties. And it is not just to campaign for votes in the run-up to a planned election for the second Constituent Assembly (CA) on Nov. 19. More importantly, apparatchiks of the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist-Leninist), or UML, are among those who have trooped there with a more progressive vision in mind: seeking prospective candidates to contest the polls. It marks the latest embrace by mainstream politics of an increasingly vocal and visible sexual minority constituency. "A couple of dozen parties have shown interest in our members," reveals Sunil Babu Pant, the head of the BDS, a day after he had met a UML delegation in his top-floor office. "This is certainly a big change for us, to be approached this way. They see us as a legitimate and influential group in national politics." Mr. Pant, who became Nepal's first openly gay lawmaker in the first CA, has already joined the UML, one of the country's larger establishment parties, which has more social democrat leanings than the gun-toting revolutionaries, such as the Maoists. An equally high-profile transgender figure, BhumikaShrestha, has been sworn in to swell the ranks of the Nepali Congress, a first for the oldest political party in the country. The list of LGBT candidates is expected to grow as the contestant lists are finalized. Already, over 60 LGBT contenders have declared their political intent through the BDS. These 28 lesbians, 21 gays and 12 transgenders are eying constituencies they are familiar with in 31 districts. "We have assured them that our election manifesto will accommodate their concerns, such as third-gender rights," PradeepGyawali, a UML politburo member, told The Irrawaddy. "It is quite amazing that Nepal has made this progress about the third-gender community. No political party thought this way 10 years ago; not even the society." Such a sea change is a remarkable achievement for three reasons. Nepal, after all, is a predominantly Hindu country known for its discriminating caste structure. Even now, it is common to hear of an upper-caste Brahmin refusing to shake hands with Dalits, members of a lower-caste group known as "the untouchables," out fear of being "polluted." Other extreme examples of such minority discrimination abound, like Dalits being forbidden to enter upper-caste houses from the front. There has also been no religious backlash by social conservatives. Such a tolerant response stands out in South Asia, where waves of religious fundamentalism—Hindu, Buddhist, Islamic—are on the rise. In neighboring India, home to the world's largest Hindu population, religious groups led the charge to challenge a court ruling to decriminalize homosexuality in 2010. The other reason for cheer is political. The inroads made by the "third genders," as the LGBT minority is called here, is a progressive step in a country that has been stuck midway in its plans for reform. The first CA was elected with the promise of drafting a new republican constitution. It followed a historic change in what was once the world's only Hindu kingdom. The 240-year-old monarchy was abolished on May 28, 2008, at the inaugural session of the 601-member national assembly. That came on the tails of a groundbreaking peace agreement, which saw the end of a decade-long revolution spearheaded by the Maoists in which 16,000 people were killed and some 150,000 were displaced. The leader of the Maoists, Pushpa Kamal Dahal, better known by his revolutionary name "Prachanda" ("the Fierce One"), is one of a string of Nepali leaders who have presided over five years of political paralysis. The customary bickering between and within Nepal's political parties has resulted in a half-written constitution. The failure of the CA to meet its multiple deadlines paved the way for another attempt to elect a fresh body to the national assembly. The interim government running the country till the November polls is headed by Khil Raj Regmi, the chief justice. Yet, for the likes of Mr. Pant, the messy and fractious political transition was fertile ground. His organization rode a wave of human rights activism for the marginalized that spread in post-revolutionary Nepal. Help came from many quarters, the most influential of which was the Supreme Court. The latter ruled in a December 2007 case filed by BDS that the country needs to officially recognize third-gender rights. The government that emerged soon after followed with a call for official documents to have a new category (in addition to male or female) where sexual classification needs to be indicated. Even a budget for these new rights was added to the state's annual expenses. The nearly 12 years of work by LGBT activists to reach this pivotal moment was also rewarded during the country's 2011 census. The official government documents that recognize a third-gender category are supposed to benefit some 500,000 LGBTs, according to government data, although BDS estimates place the figure closer to 2.5 million. Some analysts who have followed Nepal's rise as the most tolerant country for sexual minorities in South Asia attribute it to its demographic profile—a population of over 26 million people divided into nearly 100 ethnic minorities and linguistic groups. So respecting another minority, albeit a newly recognized one, is acceptable within the social fabric, they say. Others locate it in Nepal's identity since the times of the monarchy. "This country has never had a record of being a theocratic state," Krishna Hachhethu, a professor of political science at Tribhuvan University in Kathmandu, explained in an interview. "It was more secular even when it was a Hindu kingdom when compared to secular India." Either way, BDS is credited with awakening Nepalese to a community that has long suffered discrimination, some of it painful and humiliating. "We have more work to do to get people beyond the cities to accept third gender unions as natural," admits PremBahadurThapa, the non-governmental organization's lawyer. "It helps when a third gender person is legally recognized as a person." This story first appeared in the October 2013 print issue of The Irrawaddy magazine. The post 'Third Sex' Becomes a Political Force appeared first on The Irrawaddy Magazine. |
