Burma's Agony

(4 of 4)

Such powerful images may hearten democracy advocates worldwide, but will they persuade Burma's soldiers to disobey orders to shoot directly at the protesters? For all its economic incompetence, Burma's junta has managed to hold together the military remarkably well. Most high-level government positions are held by army officers, and lowly grunts can work their way up the ranks. Junta leader General Than Shwe, for instance, started off as a rank-and-file soldier whose psychological-warfare expertise and loyalty to predecessor Ne Win won him promotions. Still, there may be some cracks in the military's façade. "Than Shwe or senior military leaders might not care about international opinion or the feelings of the people, but some middle- and lower-ranking officers surely do," says Win Min, a Burmese military analyst based in northern Thailand. "These younger officers don't want to be hated by the people for the next 30 years."

Key to the equation may be China, Burma's largest trading partner and ideological ally. But despite calls from the West for China to use economic leverage over Burma, it's not clear how much influence Beijing really has. "China will urge Myanmar to use peaceful means to solve the problem, [because] China would like to see a stable environment in Myanmar," says Zhai Kun, an expert on Southeast Asia at the China Institutes of Contemporary International Relations in Beijing. "But because Myanmar is a closed society, I don't think they listen to advice from the outside, including China."

That puts all the more pressure on Burma's monks, as the only force whose authority can challenge that of the military. Monks have urged the generals to avoid bloodshed by sitting down for reconciliation talks with Suu Kyi's NLD. The hope is that dialogue might lead to a power-sharing agreement that recognizes the 1990 election results. So far, the junta has pointedly ignored the 62-year-old democracy activist. Indeed, recently passed constitutional guidelines bar Suu Kyi from holding power because she lacks military experience and was married to a foreigner. But Suu Kyi clearly has the vote of some in the Buddhist clergy, as evidenced by their symbolic visit to her house. "Even if they are not political, the monks hear stories about the daily struggles of the Burmese people and the repression of the junta," says Aung Naing Oo, a Burmese political analyst based in Thailand. "They feel their pain, and they cannot just sit back idly." The NLD, even with its ranks ravaged by imprisonment and exile, may be the only political alternative Burma has — and many monks know it.

Of course, no amount of Buddhist mantras chanted in Suu Kyi's name are likely to convince Burma's generals to give up power quietly. They have ruled with an iron grip, and with impunity, for nearly half a century, and have already brutally crushed one major democracy movement. With the clashes on Sept. 26, the regime once again displayed its capacity for violence. Burma's burgundy revolutionaries can only pray that their robes will not be stained further — by the color of blood.