Myanmar unravelled: coup, culture and connections in South-East Asia

Following the recent military coup in Myanmar, Ben Leo Hollis takes a closer look at the politics and tensions of the reclusive South-East Asian country, and reminisces about his own experiences of Burmese culture.

A pagoda overlooks the Irrawaddy River at Bagan, Myanmar. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

A pagoda overlooks the Irrawaddy River at Bagan, Myanmar. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

On December 31, 2018, I passed from the scowls, dust, and noise of the eastern Indian state of Manipur, into Myanmar – across a land border that had remained closed to international travellers for decades. Moving down into a small valley and over a disintegrating wooden bridge, I found a jovial Burmese border officer who briefly glanced at my visa, before I passed quietly into Myanmar’s rolling green hills, neatly kept streets and tidy groups of wooden houses. Now, just over two years later, it looks like the country's quietly-growing connections with the wider international community look set to cease, as Aung San Suu Kyi and the rest of her democratically-elected government have been arrested and, just like that, the country has seen a swift return to its decades of military rule.

The military, headed by Commander-in-Chief Min Aung Hlaing, has instituted a one-year state of emergency, and claimed that November's elections, in which Suu Kyi won a landslide victory over government-backed rivals, were riddled with “widespread fraud.” However, independent electoral watchdogs have continued to support the election’s integrity, with the EU's Election Observation Commission declaring that 95 per cent of observers rated it either “good” or “very good.” Despite the military’s ongoing claims and growing tensions, the coup went almost totally unpredicted by international analysts, and represents one of the most shocking geopolitical events so far this year.

Locals bathe in a river in the Magway region, Myanmar. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

Locals bathe in a river in the Magway region, Myanmar. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

I entered Myanmar as part of a year-long solo trip, cycling and camping from the UK to Australia. As such, I travelled the length of the country, from its tiny north-western border at Tamu, through the rolling fields and forests of the Magway province, to the temple-filled plains of Bagan and over the mountains to Lake Inle, Yangon and the East.

Myanmar gained independence from the British in 1948, before a 1962 coup signalled the start of the country’s long period of military rule. The brutal suppression of pro-democracy protests in the following decades has left deep scars in the country’s history, including in 1988’s “8888 Uprising”, in which thousands of demonstrators were killed by security forces, with little effect on the military’s power. A year later, the military changed the country’s name from Burma to Myanmar, with the former being a long-used local corruption of the word Myanmar. The Adaptation of Expression Law also introduced English-language names to many other local places including the country’s largest city Yangon, previously called Rangoon. To this day, the US and UK do not recognise the name Myanmar, with an official UK announcement stating that Burma's democratic movement does “not accept the legitimacy of the unelected military regime to change the official name of the country.”

In 2011, Aung San Suu Kyi, who won the 1991 Nobel Peace Prize for over a decade of democracy campaigning under house arrest, became the country’s first democratically elected leader in decades, along with her party the National League for Democracy (NLD). As with all Burmese names, hers has no surname and in her case is derived from three relatives, her grandmother, mother, and father Aung San, who was himself the founder of the Burmese army and a key negotiator in independence from the British in 1947. Tragically, he was brutally assassinated by political rivals in the same year, when Suu Kyi was only two.

A farmer ploughs as an electricity line passes overhead. Traditional agricultural techniques are still widespread in most regions of Myanmar. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

A farmer ploughs as an electricity line passes overhead. Traditional agricultural techniques are still widespread in most regions of Myanmar. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

Myanmar is a country the size of Texas, with a population of over 54 million, with its people divided into 135 ethnic groups officially recognised by the Myanmar government, as well as several unrecognised groups such as the Rohingya people. The largest group, the Bamar people, make up 68 per cent of the population and speak the official language of Myanmar, Burmese. Around 100 other languages are spoken throughout the country, particularly in minority areas such as the Rakhine, Shan and Kachin States, which are often labelled ‘black zones’ by the government: off limits to foreigners and largely under the control of indigenous guerrillas. I learnt about these zones at the Indian border, where I met the only international tourist I'd seen in weeks- and we pored over his maps for an evening, with me making notes and changing my routes as he told me which areas were open and which border crossings were possible. Shockingly, despite 15 years delivering speeches about human rights over her gate while under house arrest, following the 2017 Rohingya crisis, Aung San Suu Kyi has repeatedly denied allegations of genocide and told the BBC at the time that tensions in the Rakhine state were due to a "climate of fear" caused by "a worldwide perception that global Muslim power is 'very great'".

Despite the country’s tragically bloody past, the resounding image of the country to foreign visitors is one of pristine beauty, tranquility and traditional culture. Poverty very much exists, with Myanmar’s GDP less than half that of Manipur’s, but an undeniable sense of peace rolls over you as you walk for the first time around the quiet streets of a Burmese village, without a beggar, hawker or corporate advertisement in sight.

A farm worker near Inle wears thanaka, a paste made from ground tree bark, worn by both men and women for UV protection as well as for its dermatological and aesthetic properties. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

A farm worker near Inle wears thanaka, a paste made from ground tree bark, worn by both men and women for UV protection as well as for its dermatological and aesthetic properties. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

The first tendrils of global corporations are occasionally visible, with the odd familiar can of soft drink at a quiet roadside café, or a dubbed Lara Croft film playing on an old TV in the corner- but relative to its neighbours, the country’s environment and culture still seem largely undisturbed by the corrupting power of globalisation. I was continually welcomed in to stay by locals on my path cycling through the country, though such invitations are forbidden by the government. After quickly exhausting my limited Burmese, my exchanges would involve an endless trading of grins as I explained photos of my travels using Google Translate, asking and answering questions about each other’s families—many of whom I still exchange messages with, despite internet access regularly being blocked by the government in recent weeks. Just as English hasn’t yet seeped into many localities, jeans and t-shirts have not yet replaced traditional garments, with many men instead wearing a skirt-like longyi. Natural fibres are used in materials for building and industry and both women and men often don a paste called ‘thanaka’ on their faces while they work.

Breakfast when welcomed to stay by a local family in Pakokku, Myanmar. Burmese food often includes rice, leafy soups, sliced vegetables, a fried portion of meat such as chicken (or frog, pictured) and a variety of sauces, often involving fish sauce …

Breakfast when welcomed to stay by a local family in Pakokku, Myanmar. Burmese food often includes rice, leafy soups, sliced vegetables, a fried portion of meat such as chicken (or frog, pictured) and a variety of sauces, often involving fish sauce and peanuts. Photography by Ben Leo Hollis.

Sadly, not long after I visited as one of the first international travellers through its western border, it looks like Myanmar’s connections with the world could be beginning to return to decades of isolationism, in part reinforced by the sanctions implemented on Myanmar by western powers during its military rule. Tragically, since beginning on this article, Myanmar has been consumed into another period of bloodshed as over 400 protesters have died at the hands of the police. Ultimately, not only does military governance restrict international connections, limit local freedom of speech, and potentially facilitate another barrage of human rights offences, it once again hampers Myanmar’s steady path to development and democracy.

This article was originally published in Issue 724 of Pi Magazine.

For more photos and stories, follow Ben’s blog at @natgeobleo or www.benleohollis.com

FeaturesBen Leo Hollis