| By AUNG ZAW | DECEMBER, 2005 - VOLUME 13 NO.12 |
Pyinmana move shows how nervous the generals are getting
A young Burma Army officer and his platoon were told, on being transferred to Rangoon from an ethnic region in upper Burma: “We are sending you to the front line.” It happened a few years ago, but what appeared at the time to be a joke still has serious validity today.
This is really how some army leaders now see Rangoon. It is not that Rangoon is about to be attacked by insurgents or terrorists—the threat posed by urban dissidents is what is making the junta paranoid.
Rangoon is indeed a cauldron of tension and political confrontation, with a history of student protests and uprisings. It is a city of activists, student leaders, politicians, opposition parties, diplomats, UN agencies, local and foreign NGOs and—according to the regime view—the unofficial headquarters of “internal destructive elements.”
Clearly, it’s not a comfortable place for the generals, reluctant to hand over power and bent on staying in control for as long as possible. For some time now, they have been planning to withdraw from Rangoon and set up a new administrative city in central Burma.
The move began in early November with the departure of many ministries and government officials to Pyinmana, nearly 400 km north of Rangoon. It was the latest stage of the master plan for dealing with internal dissent and sealing the regime’s iron hold on power.
The plan actually began to take shape several years ago, when massive building projects—an airstrip, hospital, five-star hotel, military mansions, bunkers and offices—were begun in the Pyinmana area. The project was kept strictly under wraps, although The Irrawaddy broke the first news of the project on its Intelligence page around the time it began.
Diplomats, UN agencies and observers in Rangoon were dumbfounded in November to see hundreds of Chinese-made military trucks carrying officials, civilians and office supplies head north out of the capital. Neighboring countries, Rangoon’s diplomatic community and UN offices wanted to know how they were to keep in touch with Burma’s new center of government. “Don’t worry,” they were told. “You can reach us by fax.”
It was initially thought that the generals had chosen to relocate their War Office in order to better guard against a foreign invasion—independence hero General Aung San himself had chosen Pyinmana as his headquarters during World War II to ward off Japanese and British invaders.
Indeed, surrounded by dense forests and mountains and far from the coast, remote Pyinmana is in many ways an ideal location from which both to defend against and attack invaders.
Some Western observers and diplomats in Rangoon presumed the source of the generals’ paranoia to be that most vocal of critics, the United States. But in reality, the potential of an American invasion is unlikely to have had much bearing on the plan—with the Middle East and Afghanistan, surely the US has enough on its plate without having to worry about little old Burma.
Burma’s military leaders may not be the brightest bunch, but they are at least smart enough to figure out what’s going on in Washington.
Retired Brig-Gen Kyaw Zaw, a former colleague of Gen Aung San, commented that the junta is far less worried about an American seaborne invasion than it is of its own people, who are increasingly impatient with the regime. The possibility of a public uprising still haunts the army leaders.
If people were to take to the streets in Rangoon, the junta could continue to run the country’s administrative affairs from Pyinmana while sending troops to quell protests, said the exiled general from his home in China. To some extent, his assessment makes sense.
During the student-led nationwide uprising in 1988, government administration broke down and the government almost collapsed. As millions took to the street, army leaders kept their family members in hideouts or in heavily guarded houses.
In September 1988, a huge rally near Rangoon’s War Office brought home to the generals the reality of a mass public uprising. Shortly after the rally, the army staged a coup and retook power.
Over the following months, hundreds of thousands of people were moved out of the city and relocated to the periphery. The junta immediately built bridges and an overpass in central Rangoon—structures seen as a government strategy to allow troops to deploy more effectively and quell angry crowds and demonstrators. The lessons of being locked-in by a restive populace had been learned.
Rangoon has never been a safe place for the paranoid generals. In 1989, when opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi mobilized people in the streets again, the regime declared Rangoon a war zone and assigned army officers and soldiers to deal with demonstrators.
In light of these events, the Pyinmana project is clearly a key part of the generals’ vision for the future. As the constitution-drafting National Convention winds down next year, the generals plan a “separation of power” among the armed forces.
Under the plan, a group of army leaders is expected to keep control of the armed forces, while the former generals become leaders of a new civilian government.
Whatever results from the National Convention, the junta has made it clear it wants the armed forces to maintain a substantial role in politics, essentially perpetuating military rule.
Moreover, with the command center’s shift from Rangoon to central Burma—within easy reach of Shan, Kayah, Chin and Karen states—the military government will have more control over problematic ethnic regions. The generals will be able to improve communication with front-line troops and stamp their authority on ceasefire groups.
As ceasefire agreements with several ethnic groups are in a fragile state, the generals in the War Office might have thought they would be in a better position in Pyinmana to take swift and firm action than in Rangoon.
The army leaders are not expected to abandon Rangoon altogether, however. Observers predict that Rangoon and Mandalay will remain the country’s prime commercial centers.
Apart from the military and strategic considerations in moving to Pyinmana, another important factor is thought to have played a role in the decision—astrology.
It is no secret that the superstitious generals—and particularly their boss, Snr-Gen Than Shwe—seek advice from astrologers. Reports have surfaced in the capital that astrologers say Rangoon—whose English meaning is “end of strife”—is doomed and will see bloodshed. Than Shwe is certain to have made the bizarre decision to move the power center to Pyinmana.
People in Rangoon ridiculed the decision and drew attention to an apt Burmese proverb: a tiger changes his habitat only to meet his death.
| Who’s Financing the Project?
By Aung Zaw
The financing of the hugely expensive move to Pyinmana remains as secret as every other aspect of the project. Companies friendly to the junta—such as Asia World, Htoo Trading Company, Eden Groups and Ayer Shwe Wah—are profiting massively from the move, however.
Asia World, run by former drug lord Lo Hsing Han, is believed to be in charge of more than 70 percent of the Pyinmana project—including contracts to build mansions for the top brass. Eden Groups is involved in the construction of houses for junior officers.
Businessmen who have been to the site said that army engineers have also been enlisted to build military mansions and offices.
Business sources in Rangoon say the Htoo Trading Company has signed a US $12 million contract with the regime—although it is unlikely that HTC will ever see any actual money, the cash-strapped government preferring to settle its bills by awarding new concessions or contracts. When the projects got under way several years ago, companies were assured they would be paid, but business sources say they are still waiting for the regime to pony up.
HTC is run by the young tycoon Tay Za, who is believed to have strong connections with powerful generals, including Snr-Gen Than Shwe.
Ayer Shwe Wah was established by Aung Thet Mann, son of Shwe Mann, a defense ministry strongman. Business rivals accuse Aung Thet Mann of winning contracts for construction works in the project to move the War Office to Pyinmana because of his access to government supplies of cheap cement, enabling him to submit the lowest tenders.
Dissidents in exile speculate that China and Russia are involved in installing military hardware and listening posts. Though there is no real evidence to back up these suspicions, it is well-known that the Chinese have already helped to build electricity generating dams near Pyinmana.
The country’s biggest dam project—Paunglaung, near Pyinmana—was initiated in 1997, and is being built with Chinese assistance. The regime is hoping the huge underground generating plant will provide adequate power for its shiny new administrative city and military facilities. |