WORLD VIEW:IN ANY normal country, the calling of a referendum might signal some - if limited - democratic accountability. In any normal country, the death of up to 100,000 of its citizens and the shocking destruction that a cyclone like Nargis has left in its wake would warrant cancellation of a referendum. But Burma or Myanmar (the name preferred by the military that has systematically subjugated it) is no normal country. The referendum is scheduled to go ahead, writes PEADAR KING.
When the generals announced that the constitution that has been 14 years in the making would finally be put to the people in a May 10th referendum, initial reaction ranged from indifference to indifference. Nobody believed that the generals were about to release their iron and bloody grip on the country.
For the great majority of Burmese people who have suffered so grievously under various military juntas since 1962, the only election they want honoured is the election that swept the National League of Democracy (NLD) to victory in 1990. But the chances of Gen Than Shwe and his 12-man junta recognising the will of the people in that election range from zero to zero. Not only have they failed that democratic test, they have also utterly failed in their response to the humanitarian crisis currently engulfing the country. Since Cyclone Nargis hit Burma last weekend, Than Shwe and his close aides, Gen Maung Aye and Gen Thura Shwe Mann, have not been seen in public.
The generals are now offering the people of Burma the fig leaf of a new constitution that many fear will provide democratic cover for their naked and unashamed lust for Burma's burgeoning resources. In collusion with neighbouring countries China, Russia, India, Singapore and Thailand, a small coterie of Burmese leaders have coveted Burma's enormous wealth, leaving the vast majority of its people destitute. In defence of their strategic interests, China and Russia, the two permanent members of the UN Security Council that regularly veto resolutions on Burma, on Wednesday blocked a French move to initiate a discussion on the current humanitarian crisis. They have no wish to disturb Burma's wholly iniquitous ruling elite. Communist China has no problem supporting the extravagantly opulent lifestyle of its friends.
And Burmese leaders' proclivity for extravagant opulence knows no bounds. In July 2006, Than Shwe's daughter, Thandar, married in a ceremony that observers estimate cost, including presents received, well in excess of $50 million (€32.4 million). This in a country where two out of every five children are severely malnourished. Much to the anger of the father of the bride, the wedding ended up on YouTube. Few Burmese outside that tiny, outlandishly corrupt elite got to see these images of decadence, as internet use inside this wholly repressive country is restricted. It is this skewed world of privilege that the military is seeking to protect in their proposed constitution, and it is knowledge of that reality that has most but not all of the Burmese people vehemently opposed to it.
The military does not even pretend to conceal its primary objective of embedding military governance into the country's political infrastructure. Twenty-five per cent of the seats - that is, 110 members of the 440 seats in the lower house or "people's parliament" and 56 members of the 224-seat upper house - will, if the constitution is passed, be filled with military appointees selected by the army's commander-in-chief.
Not content with blatantly packing the national parliament and thereby subverting the will of the people, the position of president or vice-presidents, of which there will be two, will be selected by the commander-in-chief, ensuring that he holds one of these three critically important positions. Most people expect that the commander-in-chief will select the president. And just in case there is any risk of slippage in their control of the state, the commander-in-chief will have the same powers as the vice-presidents. The autonomy of the armed forces will, of course, remain intact. Here the writ of the parliament will not run. The parliament will not be allowed to scrutinise or have any control over the military's budget.
The constitutional architects have inserted one more fail-safe measure to ring-fence the monopoly on power, and sideline the international face of opposition. In a barely disguised attempt to exclude Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi from any public office, the constitution states that "the president of the union himself parents, spouse, children . . . shall not owe allegiance to a foreign power, shall not be a subject of a foreign power or citizen of a foreign country". Two of Aung San Suu Kyi's sons are British citizens, as was her husband, Michael Aris, who died in 1999. If this constitution is carried, the one woman capable of uniting the divided country of Burma is ineligible for office. The roof of her house was blown off in the cyclone, but she is safe.
The evidence would appear to be irrefutable. This referendum is about copper-fastening Burma's generals' deathly grip on power, and that fits comfortably with China and Russia and some of Burma's other neighbours. To what extent - if at all - Cyclone Nargis will impact upon that grip, only time will tell. All the evidence from within the country would suggest the majority are opposed to the referendum. But to oppose this referendum is to engage in enormous risk.
In Burma, the No campaigners are not just dismissed as flaky nay-sayers rehearsing jaded arguments - they are targeted by the military's merciless state-sanctioned death squads. This so-called democratic exercise is of an altogether different order. Its evolution and content is further evidence that this is no normal country.
Peadar King is a documentary film-maker and producer ofWhat in the World? The next series begins on RTÉ One on Thursday, June 5th at 10.45pm withThe Generals' Genocide