The Thamaga Factor

The word for ‘union’ continues to carry great historical weight

By MIN ZIN

“Thamaga,” a Myanmar word adopted from the Pali language, carries incredible political and moral weight in Myanmar. Literally, it means union; association; and society. In the context of the country's modern history, it unambiguously signifies the student union, its spirit and its long-standing symbol of the fighting peacock flag.

From the independence movement in the early twentieth century to the democracy movement of the late 1980s, student unions, or Thamaga, have not only challenged autocrats in Myanmar but also given birth to new leadership in national politics.

It is little wonder, then, that when police staged a violent crackdown on unarmed student protesters and their supporters on March 10 in Letpadan town, 90 miles north of Yangon, they targeted flag-waving demonstrators first and vengefully stamped on their fighting peacock flags.

The protests had intensified since January when thousands of students, including high schoolers, began to march—in some cases for hundreds of miles—from major provincial cities towards Yangon. They did so in protest over the new National Education Law, passed in September 2014, which they believe is explicitly designed to inhibit the formation of student Thamaga and curb academic freedom.

After a series of talks with student representatives, the government agreed to amend the controversial law and a special parliamentary committee began debating the proposed changes. But the students pulled out of the discussions in the first week of March, in response to a police blockade of their main protest group in Letpadan, Bago Region.

On March 5, in Yangon, police and pro-government plainclothes thugs violently dispersed a protest held in support of the students blockaded in the north. Five days later, at Letpadan, after negotiations about a continued march broke down, police beat students and their supporters, injuring dozens. At least 127 people were arrested.

Political Fallout

In the past, the regime has successfully combined harsh crackdowns with political ploys to weaken the opposition, confuse the public, and defuse international pressure. Perhaps Naypyitaw is now reading from this same familiar playbook. If so, we can expect several rounds of talks between President U Thein Sein or Commander-inChief Snr.-Gen. Min Aung Hlaing and National League for Democracy (NLD) leader Daw Aung San Suu Kyi.

Though these talks are not likely to facilitate a political breakthrough, they will eclipse the earlier headlines about students being beaten and

Daw Aung San Suu Kyi views the protests as a distraction from her agenda of constitutional reform.

imprisoned. If previous patterns are any indication, Daw Aung San Suu Kyi will probably swallow the bait again and seize the opportunity to advance her political agenda, while downplaying the student movement.

In her response to questions from the media about the crackdown she said, the “NLD never supports the use of violence. There is nothing special we have to say. The rule of law is for everyone.” Of course, the NLD later joined growing condemnation, stating that the clampdown was “not appropriate in a civilized society.”

In fact, both the government and the mainstream opposition led by Daw Aung San Suu Kyi view the student protests as an unwelcome challenge.

For elements of the government, the students are a conspiracy of radical veteran communists seeking to unseat the regime through confrontation. In late February, the

Ministry of Education circulated a confidential memo among senior university administrators alleging that the education bill the student protesters proposed was nothing more than a communist attempt to overthrow “the current democratic system of governance.”

Daw Aung San Suu Kyi views the protests as a distraction from her agenda of constitutional reform. More cynically, it is a distraction from her effort to become the country’s next president. In speeches and interviews, the Lady has cautioned protesters not to pressure the parliament about the education bill, and has urged the public not to lose sight of the priority of constitutional reform.

But while the protests may have become a distraction, at least temporarily, from much-needed constitutional reform, this has less to do with the students’ demands than with the government’s crackdown and the opposition’s inaction.

It is true that some student leaders hold increasingly radical views and employ increasingly radical tactics. It is also true that some veteran activists, who the government alleges are communists, want to employ the students in a bigger struggle. But the overall objective of the current student movement is still confined to the goal of educational reform. And the reason for the students' continued efforts is that they have noted the negligence, broken promises, and delaying tactics the government has employed since the education bill was put on the table early last year. None of the conspiracy theories address the people’s genuine grievances or offer any viable resolutions.

The movement has been able to gain momentum because the NLD leader has failed to speak out against—let alone offer any solutions for—injustices ranging from land grabs to ethnic conflict to labor strikes to educational reform. Of course, it is also possible that the opposition feels intimidated because the student protests mark the first national grassroots movement in 25 years that stands outside the political patronage of the established opposition, which has been effectively co-opted into the system.

For this reason, the significance of the current student campaign goes well beyond education reform. The students’ new activism may also signal a major generational shift within the opposition. Intriguingly, it is a reminder of the similar shift during the independence movement under British colonial rule.

New Leaders

After Britain coopted Myanmar nationalists of the 1920s, a new generation of leaders emerged from student unions in the late 1930s. They protested against British rule and later called themselves “Thakin” or “Master,” indicating that they were the masters in their own country. It was the generation of independence hero Aung San, the father of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, who once chaired the student union and is still a model for student activists.

British rulers, who then experimented with “guided democracy” in the country, and conservative Myanmar, condemned Aung San and other student Thakins as hotheaded, radical and even militant youth. But they emerged as popular leaders who helped liberate the country from British rule.

It is entirely possible that this current student movement could herald a new generation of Myanmar activist leaders. In the short term, however, the scenario is rather more complicated and even bleak.

Students on a recent march. The key demands of student protesters include: the right to establish teachers’ and students’ unions; inclusive education; a much greater education budget; increased representation of teachers and students in the legislative process and the right to mother-tongue-based multilingual education for ethnic groups.

Myanmar social media users have waged a campaign of support for the students, adopting the message “Students are the winners.” No doubt the campaigners feel that this brutal crackdown only damages the quasicivilian government’s legitimacy and exposes its true colors. But in reality, two potential winners may emerge when the dust settles on the students’ latest sacrifice.

Ironically, the first may be Daw Aung San Suu Kyi and her party. Since the government’s crackdown only reminds the public of the military’s past brutality, people may be more likely to cast protest votes against the military-backed Union Solidarity and Development Party in the next general elections, scheduled for later this year. This would be a decisive boost to the NLD, which already commands strong public support.

If more urban protests continue, however, and if instability intensifies as a result of current military offensives in ethnic regions, the military could step in to declare a state of emergency and postpone the general elections. Myanmar’s current constitution, drawn up by the military, allows it to sideline parliament and rule the country directly when a state of emergency is declared. In this case, the army would be the real winner.

Meanwhile, those who suffered during the authorities’ thuggish response to peaceful protests would not likely see the perpetrators held accountable.

Myanmar students, however, know well that beating them and stamping on their flags will not lead them to bow down to autocrats and abandon their cause.

After the historic Students’ Union building at Yangon University was dynamited by members of General Ne Win’s coup-making junta on July 7, 1962, Thakin Kodaw Hmaing, who was perhaps the most powerful moral figure in modern Myanmar politics since the early years of the independence movement, told aggrieved students, “They can destroy the Thamaga building but they can never destroy the Thamaga spirit in your hearts.”

History has indeed proven Thakin Kodaw Hmaing right. The Thamaga spirit endures.