Meeting the

The Irrawaddy’s founding editor of the former regime’s most

By AunG

acquaintance who hadn’t told the former spymaster that I would be there. When he saw me, he looked as if he had just spotted a ghost. Right away, he said: “I am not a butcher. I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t put anyone in prison.”

His words were a reaction to an episode of “Dateline Irrawaddy,” a weekly program produced by The Irrawaddy for broadcast by the Democratic Voice of Burma. In the episode, we had discussed his past role as head of the dreaded military intelligence unit, along with his subsequent ouster from power in 2004, and his recent remarks about wanting to return to national politics after more than seven years under house arrest.

When he saw me in November, he quickly denied any intention of going back into politics. “I will devote my time to religious and humanitarian missions,” the 73-year-old said repeatedly, waving his hand as if to dispel a nasty rumor.

Regarding his days as one of the most feared men in Myanmar, he also repeated himself. “I didn’t torture people or put people in prison,” he said. “But in the military, we have to follow orders.”

I found this last statement interesting, as he seemed to be implying that he had merely acted as an obedient soldier taking orders from superiors during his years as the third-most powerful member of the regime that seized power in 1988. At the height of his influence, only two other generals were more powerful: junta strongman Snr-Gen Than Shwe and his deputy, Vice Snr-Gen Maung Aye. Both still hold considerable sway over the military and politics, despite retiring in 2011.

It was no secret, however, that U Khin Nyunt once coveted the top spot in the junta that ruled Myanmar for more than two decades. As a protégé of the late dictator U Ne Win, U Khin Nyunt quickly assumed a prominent role in the military council that seized power in September 1988 after crushing nationwide pro-democracy protests. His appointment as secretary of the State Law and Order Restoration Council, which later became the State Peace and Development Council, displeased its other members, however, due to his background as an intelligence officer. Rivalry between infantry and intelligence factions remained a source of tension throughout his tenure.

There was no questioning his ambition to become the eyes and ears of the regime. He seemed intent on knowing everything about everybody—something I experienced firsthand.

In the early 1990s, I was added to the list of those deemed a threat to state stability because of my regular columns for the Bangkok-based daily The Nation and my “underground” journal, The Irrawaddy. In 1994, I learned from a Thai journalist colleague that U Khin Nyunt’s intelligence unit had asked a visiting Thai army chief to arrest me. I went into hiding for several months.

Eventually, the Thais caught up with me—or at least they thought they did. When a Burmese intelligence officer flew to the Thai capital to examine the Aung Zaw detained there, however, he went away disappointed: The person in custody was another Burmese man who happened to share my name. He was charged with illegal entry and deported.

But in November, finally face to face with me, U Khin Nyunt spoke only of his devotion to Buddhism and his desire to see his former subordinates released from prison, something that seems unlikely to happen anytime soon, at least judging from conversations I’ve had with former senior army officers in Naypyidaw. Many of these officers have told me it’s “not the time yet” to free former military intelligence agents who kept extensive dossiers on all the ruling generals. Some of them even believe that U Khin Nyunt should still be under lock and key.