Chickens come home to roost in Myanmar

The Nation 

The government is blaming ethnic rebels for instigating battles on the Chinese border, but its own murky role in this longstanding conflict cannot be ignored

Fighting between Myanmar troops and rebels on the northern border with China has yet to subside and a political solution is nowhere in sight after the central government placed the region under army control for the next three months.

The fighting erupted 11 days ago in Kokang region and has so far claimed the lives of about 50 Myanmar army soldiers and 30 rebels.

Meanwhile a Red Cross convoy on a mission to help civilians displaced by the fighting came under attack, resulting in injuries to several of its personnel. As expected, each side is blaming the other for the attack on the aid workers.

As is often the case with conflict, it's easier to point fingers than to address the underlying causes.

The central government is blaming the rebel Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army (MNDAA) for instigating the latest round of fighting.

But the roots of the conflict lie in the previous round, five years ago, when the Myanmar military launched an all-out offensive against the ethnic-Chinese MNDAA and ousted its leader, Peng Jiasheng. The motivations for that action remain murky and certainly contradict any claim that the government side is an "innocent victim".

The MNDAA is among the several ethnic rebel armies that have entered into ceasefire agreements with the government of Myanmar, also known as Burma, since 1989.

In exchange, the MNDAA and fellow rebel groups such as the United Wa State Army (UWSA) were granted a degree of autonomy to run affairs in their respective regions. Like the Wa, the MNDAA were part of the Communist Party of Burma insurgency network, an outfit that fell apart in 1989.

But in 2009, after two decades of ceasefires, it became clear that none of these groups was willing to disband its army and submit to the authority of the government's Border Guard Forces. So the central government decided to teach them all a lesson by focusing its ire on the Kokang's MNDAA. The group is much smaller and doesn't have the firepower of rebel armies like the 30,000-strong UWSA.

And so, in August 2009, Myanmar reneged on its two-decade-old ceasefire agreement and sent troops into the semi-autonomous Kokang, ousting its leader Peng and replacing him with its own proxy. Now, six years later, Peng has made good on his promise to return to retake the territory from government troops.

For Myanmar - and especially for current army chief Min Aung Hlaing, who led the assault that ousted Peng in 2009 - this is a case of chickens coming home to roost. And, in the rugged hills of the Golden Triangle where warlords play for keeps, the payback can be brutal.

For the past five years Peng has sought dialogue with Myanmar top brass in a bid to return to power, but they weren't interested in listening to what he had to say. He certainly has their attention now, but it's still not clear whether they are willing to sit down with him, given they were the ones who violated the 1989 ceasefire.

The government claims it ousted Peng because his army traded in drugs. That claim seems hollow when you consider that the state has neglected to tackle the many other drug-dealing groups in the Golden Triangle.

Naturally, Beijing is concerned that the conflict raging on its border might affect its relations with Myanmar, which extend to huge investments and strategic interest. Many of the Golden Triangle's warlords are former Communist Party of China proxies and maintain links with their old masters. But there is no solid evidence to support rumours that China is supporting Peng in this latest conflict.

While the warlords retain personal ties with the Chinese leadership, to suggest they have the power to shape bilateral relations is far-fetched.

Talk of reopened border stirs bad memories for army

Don Pathan
The Nation

A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.

The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.

On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.

But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn't make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.

One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world's finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.

Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument - about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing, but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed - just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.

All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.

The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.

The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns - with the help of Thai contractors.

The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai's Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.

Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug-deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.

Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.

For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.

Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.

The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn't trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.

But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai's Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.

But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM's security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.

For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.

Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.

The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.

The battles took place well within Myanmar's territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA's drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai's Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.

The following day, Yangon protested "in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity". Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.

The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as "Ayothaya" - to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn't want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.

BURMA: Mekong incident proves that the Golden Triangle is still volatile

Don Pathan
The Nation

In early 2002, when the Chinese authorities were breaking huge boulders to improve the navigational route between China and northern Laos and Thailand on the Mekong River, local residents and environmentalists were half joking when they said they would be

They were opposed to the Chinese-funded project out of concern that it would affect fish stocks and consequently their livelihood. A series of reefs and rapids would be removed, making it possible for 500-tonne cargo vessels to travel further up and down the river.

But while the Chinese engineers were busy dynamiting the rocks and reefs, the authorities conveniently overlooked one glaring security concern – that the stretch of river between the Chinese border and Thailand’s territorial waters is also the domain of opium warlords and drug armies operating out of the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.

Prior to the coming of the Chinese cargo ships, the notorious United Wa State Army (UWSA) – dubbed the world’s largest armed drug-trafficking outfit by the US State Department – at one time even set up a small port of its own in the northern Burmese border region. Embarrassed by the Wa’s flag flying high, the Burmese government asked its Wa allies to close the port down, or at least not make it so obvious.

There is always a sense of nervousness – whenever passing through this no man’s land – among those who observe the Golden Triangle’s opium trade and its related ethnic insurgents. But regional integration cannot wait for Burma’s internal conflict to subside, thus, the decision by China to improve the trade link through this area.

Over the years, the authorities and stakeholders have tolerated the banditry and armed robberies that often take place along this route. But earlier this month their worst fears were realised when a group of bandits hijacked two Chinese-flagged cargo vessels and killed 12 people. A 13th person is still missing.

According to the Thai police, a gang run by Nor Kham, a Shan warlord, is thought to be behind the simultaneous hijack attempt that appears to have gone wrong. The incident took place about 20 kilometres from Thai territory.

Most of the victims had been handcuffed, tied and blindfolded. Nearly one million methamphetamine tablets were found on the two cargo ships.

Major General Prakarn Chonlayuth, commander of the Pa Muang Task Force, reportedly said that authorities believe the gang demands protection money. But if any vessels refuse to pay, they will hijack them and use them to transport drugs into Thailand.

Somehow the Task Force was alerted to this incident and sent its men to go after the two ships after they had entered Thai territory in the Chiang Saen district of Chiang Rai province.

The official explanation as to what had taken place, and why so many drugs were on board, has raised more questions than answers.

The drug gangs in the Golden Triangle produce millions of methamphetamine tablets on a weekly basis and tonnes of opium and heroin on a seasonal basis annually. These illicit drugs are usually smuggled into Thailand via the land route. So why would a drug gang that knows the Thai-Burma border area like the back of its hand opt to use this particular strategy and entry point – a security bottleneck – to enter Thailand with hijacked ships with a massive amount of drugs on board.

Were the drugs already on the ships when they left the Chinese port? This wouldn’t make much sense, since the drug armies and warlords in the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle operate somewhat freely without interference from the Burmese authorities.

In 1989 the Burmese junta granted the UWSA autonomous status in an area called Special Region 2. Trying to go “legitimate”, the UWSA announced in October 2005 that it would ban opium cultivation in Wa-controlled areas. But the world, with the exception of a hopeful handful of Chinese intelligence and security officials along the Sino-Burma border, paid them no mind because methamphetamines continue to flood out of the region.

Thailand’s Yong Kha Development Project, a crop substitution scheme, launched in Wa-controlled areas near the Thai border in December 2003, was another laughing stock, as no one fell for it. Shortly after that, the US announced more arrest warrants for Wa leaders. It was a big embarrassment for the then Thai prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, who permitted himself to be duped by his Burmese counterpart, General Khin Nyunt. The Yong Kha Project did more to whitewash the UWSA – and strengthen Thai-Burmese relations than address the plight and suffering of Wa peasants, or long-term peace and stability.

In the end, none of the piecemeal projects and initiatives worked.

Today, a cloud of uncertainty continues to hang over Burma’s sector of the Golden Triangle, and the river that runs by it, as warlords and drug armies continue to roam freely. If anything, the murder of the 12 Chinese crew members is a reminder of how things can go awfully wrong when officials overlook obvious security concerns.

Like opium and insurgency, development and stability in this rugged part of the world, where warlords and drug armies play for keeps, go hand in hand. Development and regional integration will always hit a snag if the security issue is not addressed in a comprehensive and meaningful way.

Massive refugee influx a worry in all-out conflict

By Don Pathan
The Nation

November 15, 2010

The writing was already on the wall, and so when armed clashes erupted on the Thai-Burmese border, just everybody was saying, “I told you so”.

But few thought the first crack of gunfire would have erupted in Myawaddi, a Burmese border town adjacent to Mae Sot district in Tak province.

Myawaddi fell temporarily under the hand of the Democratic Karen Buddhist Army (DKBA), itself a splinter group that broke away from the Karen National Union (KNU) in 1995. But all sides knew that such occupation was symbolic as the rag-tag Karen outfit could not hold onto the seized area.

Fighting between government troops and rebel soldiers also erupted elsewhere. Militia from the Shan State Army-North engaged in sporadic gunfights with government troops in northern Shan state. A similar engagement between the junta and the rebel KNU also took place in areas adjacent to Kanchanaburi.

For months all eyes were on the Sino-Burmese border, where the 30,000-strong United Wa State Army (UWSA) were doing everything it could to avoid going to war with the Burmese junta. An all out fight between the Wa and the junta would devastate the entire border arrangement, but it appeared that the Burmese would have liked to “save the best for last”, said a Thai intelligence officer. He added that the junta may have preferred to take out smaller outfits before moving up to challenge the bigger fish.

The Burmese have yet to make their first move and for the time being there is no sign of mobilisation of troops against the Wa stronghold in Panghsang, said a UWSA official on condition of anonymity. He was speaking from the Wa stronghold on the Sino-Burmese border.

Ever since the ouster of former security tsar General Khin Nyunt in October 2004, the relationship between the Burmese government and groups with which it had a ceasefire has taken a turn for the worse.

None of these groups had worked with any other Burmese leader except Khin Nyunt. And with the security tsar removed from the top military line-up six years ago, the ethnic armies had no choice but to deal directly with the junta. But such a task would prove to be virtually impossible as General Muang Aye and Burmese supreme leader General Than Shwe weren’t interested in making any concessions, much less giving the groups an exit strategy.

The ruling State Peace and Development Council’s demand was that these ethnic armies lay down their weapons and transform themselves into the country’s border guards under the direct command of the Tatmadaw.

Some of the small groups had no choice but to swallow their pride, surrender their weapons and take up the border-guards position. But major groups such as the Wa and other major outfits decided they were not going to be a walkover.

These leaders were determined to protect their investments, business interests and their armed outfits all of which they had spent decades putting together. Some of these so-called investments stemmed from, among other things, heroin and opium cultivation, smuggling, logging, gems and fisheries.

Last year’s attack against the Kokang did not only catch Beijing off guard but it was also wake-up call for China. In the past Beijing pretty much allowed the Yunnan government a free hand to deal with the ethnic armies along the Sino-Burmese border. Many of these groups have historical and personal ties with the Chinese authorities dating back to the days of the communist insurgency. UWSA troops, for example, were once foot soldiers of the now defunct Communist Party of Burma.

But that strategic leverage was pretty much shattered when the Burmese junta turned their guns on the Kokang Chinese in August 2009, forcing more than 30,000 refugees to flee across the border. Besides sending a stern message to other ethnic armies, the attack was also a way of telling the Chinese leadership that their friendship with their so-called proxies would not come at Burma’s expense.

China responded by dispatching intelligence officers from Beijing, as well as beefing up border security. Yunnan’s border management and economic interests would have to take a backseat to Beijing’s overall concern, which is centered on Burma’s increasingly important role in its energy security.

China has also tried to mediate between the ethnic armies and the Burmese junta, but all Beijing’s mediation efforts have failed to produce any concrete results. The junta has never seen the Chinese as honest brokers because of the latter’s historical ties with the ethnic armies, which could feel abandoned if Beijing is unable to strike a balance between its needs and the security concern of the rebel outfits.

Besides expanding rapidly into Burma’s hydropower sector, China also has major oil and gas pipelines tapping into the country’s rich gas reserves. Beijing is certainly looking to shorten the transport time of its crude imports from the Middle East and Africa.

Today, a more immediate concern is the possible influx of hundreds of thousands of refugees from Burma into the Thailand and China if the sporadic gunfights between Burmese soldiers and the ethnic armies turn into an all-out conflict.

Surrendering their command to the junta would mean an end to whatever dream of autonomy they may have, not to mention the lucrative business deals these outfits have along the border. But from where things stand at this point in time, it appeares that these groups are not going down without a fight.

Beijing, meanwhile, is forced to sit back and watch its strategic leverage being shredded to pieces as its proxies dig deeper into the trenches to prepare for a big Burmese offensive.

“The Wa soldiers are doing push-ups every day,” said a Chinese security official monitoring the rugged Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle, where opium warlords and ethnic militias play for keeps. “They want to be ready when the fighting breaks out,” he added.

http://www.nationmultimedia.com/2010/11/15/opinion/Massive-refugee-influx-a-worry-in-all-out-conflict-30142242.html

The Thai-Burmese border has a life of its own

MARCH 28, 2009

DON PATHAN
THE NATION

EIGHT YEARS ago, then-prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra came into power and vowed to patch things up with Burma’s military government, one of the world’s most condemned regimes.

He tried hard to convince Rangoon of his sincerity even if it meant going against international sentiment, not to mention the Army, which he accused of “over-reacting” in its dealing with a cross-border clash with Burmese forces.

Thaksin, in line with his shoot-from-the-hip nature, said Thailand’s armed forces would end their tacit policy of using Burmese insurgent groups as buffers.

In the same breath, the PM also said aid organisations tending more than 100,000 refugees displaced by fighting in Burma would have to scale down their operations. He said they were interfering with his efforts to normalise ties with the junta.

Thaksin believed that his brand of “personal diplomacy”, backed with promises of development and economic cooperation, would be sufficient to pave the way for a bigger and better future with the junta. And while all that sweet talk about development and assistance was expected, what caught many Burma-watchers’ attention was the word “buffer”.

Apparently loose-lipped Thaksin didn’t know that the insurgency along the Thai-Burmese had a life of its own. How Thailand positions itself in relation to Burma’s insurgency is also a factor that defines this relation.

In 2003, the foreign minister, Surakiart Sathirathai, tried to push through the “Bangkok Process”, a multinational forum to steer Burma towards reform. He succeeded in getting the late Karen leader General Bo Mya and his son Ner Dah to visit Rangoon and map out a blueprint for peace talks, but nothing came of it.

Surakiart’s “road map” was essentially jinxed from the very beginning because the junta did not see Thailand as an honest broker, for obvious reasons.

A tactical retreat was made possible when Burmese prime minister Khin Nyunt announced in August 2003 that the junta’s seven-step reconciliation plan would include a constitutional drafting assembly and general elections by 2010.

One of the unwritten laws along the Thai-Burmese border is that if a rebel army is pro-Rangoon, it can be considered a threat to Thai security. The 20,000-strong United Wa State Army automatically comes to mind.

Likewise, if the outfit is fighting Rangoon for autonomy or secession then it is friendly to Thailand. Groups like the Karen National Union, Shan State Army and Karenni National Progressive Party fall into this category. This law is likely to prevail until security concerns take a back seat to bilateral cooperation. The question is what must be done for both sides to achieve that needed comfort level.

The Thaksin government tried to influence change in Burma by keeping the West at bay but failed. This time around, the Democrat Party, with a track record of being critical of the junta, is suggesting that there is a need to think outside the box.

During his recent visit, Foreign Minister Kasit Piromya brought up the issue of these so-called proxies along the border. He was asked by the junta to urge the ethnic rebel armies along the border to join Burma’s seven-step national-reconciliation plan, a process that has been billed a sham by critics.

However, it is not clear what Kasit will do next with regard to this request, which from a historical perspective may be way over his head. A bit of wishful thinking, perhaps, if Thailand thinks it can “mediate” peace talks between the rebels and the junta. Facilitation, on the other hand, is more plausible.

From a bird’s-eye view, the Thai-Burmese border is characterised by its cut-throat politics where rebel leaders, opium warlords, the Thai Army and Burmese generals play for keeps. As long as anyone can remember, armed ethnic groups have always functioned as a buffer between the two nagging neighbours. At the behest of the Thai or Burmese militaries, these ethnic armies do all the dirty work, keeping the hands of their respective overlords clean.

Most of these groups have entered into ceasefire agreements with the Burmese junta in exchange for limited self-rule in so-called “special regions” where they grow opium and churn out methamphetamines. Others have chosen legitimate businesses, granting Thai and Chinese businessmen logging and mining concessions along the border.

Burma doesn’t mind if these warlords fatten their wallets with the concession money as long as they remain in the junta’s “legal fold” and do not pose any security threats. Over the past two years, Burma has tried hard to get these groups to hand over their weapons, but success has been very limited.

On the surface, there haven’t been any outbursts along the border between the two sides for a fair while now.

But military officers on the frontline warn against reaching any premature conclusions. The absence of confrontation does not necessarily mean peace, they say. Mistrust still runs high. It is just that the two sides haven’t picked up their guns to display it.

https://democracyforburma.wordpress.com/2009/03/28/the-thai-burmese-border-has-a-life-of-its-own/

Thaksin Shuffles his Hand

The military and cabinet reshuffles have all but assured Thaksin’s hold on domestic politics. Now, he has his sights set on grander goals. 

By Don Pathan
The Irrawaddy

Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra must have had some sleepless nights leading up to the bureaucratic shakeup. Given the outbreak of public criticism and mudslinging prior to the annual military reshuffle and the nagging from politicians looking to secure seats in the new cabinet lineup, the political pressure would have taken its toll on the PM. 

But with his overwhelming public mandate, a secure Parliamentary majority, and the hype surrounding his populist policies, there could be nothing left to stop the PM and his trusted lieutenants from selecting "the right man for the right job". Unscathed from his previous political imbroglios, Thaksin has learned that he has what it takes to squeak by and still come out on top. 

Although Thaksin maintains that he did his best regarding the new cabinet lineup and denies any interference with the annual military reshuffle, his power nevertheless seems more consolidated than ever before. And now that his relatives and close allies have assumed key military and government positions, everything should be smooth sailing from here on out—or so he hopes. 

For the past 20 months, Thaksin’s camp has swooped in on various government offices, removing and transferring a number of top posts in the Bank of Thailand, the Stock Exchange of Thailand and other state-owned enterprises like Krung Thai Bank. Moving in on the military’s turf, however, is a different story altogether. The men in uniform traditionally see themselves in a different light than other bureaucrats—as the defenders of national sovereignty. So when a here today, gone tomorrow politician comes barking orders, the top brass understandably takes offense. 

Unlike the previous administration, Thaksin and his men do not consider themselves fly-by-night officeholders. Judging from their track record over the previous 20 months, they are here to stay, and the military will have to get used to it—like it or not. After all, this is an administration elected to office with an unprecedented public mandate. In August, more than two months before the military reshuffle, Thaksin took the previously unimaginable step into a domain where past premiers had dared not stray too far. He handpicked the new army commander-in-chief, Somdhat Attanand, with the understanding that Somdhat would work with the outgoing Gen Surayud Chulanont to assemble the new military lineup. Initially, it seemed like a good idea on the surface. But in reality, it became a "big mess", to use the words of former Defense Minister Chavalit Yongchaiyudh. 

As defense minister, Chavalit is entitled to his say in allocating military positions. But the deputy premier also knows that the political tides are turning against him. The challenge was to draw up a list that all sides would find satisfactory. But considering the high level of political interference and the number of hands in the cookie jar, it would have been impossible not to create any bitterness. 

The military posed the final barrier in this administration’s quest to consolidate its grip on the bureaucracy. The stakes were too high to leave the reshuffle in the hands of Gen Surayud, a man who has never seen eye-to-eye with the premier about Burma. Historically, politicians and the top brass have had to walk a fine line during reshuffles and bureaucratic appointments. The rule of thumb was that politicians were not supposed to do anything that would alienate the armed forces with their selections. On the other hand, military leaders were expected to stand firm while simultaneously presenting themselves as reasonable sorts who could negotiate and compromise with political leaders. This time around, however, the military has accepted the fact that civilian politicians, with the people’s indisputable mandate behind them, are now their superiors. For the men in uniform, this is a bitter pill to swallow. 

The decision to kick the widely respected Gen Surayud upstairs to the ceremonial post of armed forces supreme commander has raised a number of eyebrows. Another "promotion", genuinely a case of career advancement in this instance, is the appointment of the premier’s cousin, Gen Chaisit Shinawatra, to the post of assistant commander of the army. This places him in the top-five of the army hierarchy and makes him a likely candidate for the commander-in-chief post next year when Gen Somdhat, along with Gen Surayud, steps down at the mandatory retirement age of 60. Gen Surayud is seen by many as a professional soldier who helped exorcise the ghosts from the army’s May 1992 killing of unarmed protestors, and who restored public trust in Thailand’s armed forces.

His firm stance against Burma’s military build-up along their shared border, and his swift responses to repeated incursions by pro-Rangoon ethnic armies have earned him, as well as the armed forces, tremendous public support. But now, with Surayud out of the way, and Chavalit slowly fading from view, the spotlight has shifted to Foreign Minister Surakiart Sathirathai, the PM’s trusted aid. The decision to leave Burma in the hands of Surakiart irks Chavalit, who considers himself a "brother" of the junta. He took pride in his unique brand of defense diplomacy and often boasted of how it would save Thai-Burmese relations. In fact, a great deal of his political life has been devoted to Burma and Burma-related issues, so it was no surprise when he could no longer hold back his sarcastic remarks about the government handing Burma over to Surakiart. Criticizing the planned luncheon between the Thai and Burmese cabinets scheduled while the border remained closed, Chavalit quipped, "I accept the fact that we are friends…but that doesn’t mean we have to take orders from them." 

Surakiart will have big shoes to fill as he carries out the daunting task of patching things up with the junta, who never falter in keeping one step ahead of the Thais. Too bad for Surakiart. The Thai Foreign Ministry, unlike the armed forces, has never been regarded as a source of comfort for the Thai people. Thus, no matter what spin he puts on things, Surakiart faces an uphill battle trying to convince the public that his dealings with Burma are in the best interest of a people whose opinions are already fixed about the Burmese junta’s moral rectitude. 

As the tumult over these hectic rounds of military and Cabinet reshuffles dies down, and the new team settles in to their posts before embarking on a bureaucratic joy ride, the premier will again find some breathing space. Critics and political cartoonists have already had their turn taking jabs at the new lineup. While all the huffing and puffing from those who lost their seats have vented most of their steam. And now that the key people have been placed in their respective positions, political insiders say that Thaksin is turning his attention to bigger and better things. Thaksin, they say, wants to be seen as a regional leader; recognized as an exemplary statesman in the same light as Malaysia’s Mahathir Mohamed and Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew. And with Mahathir stepping down next year and Lee gradually sliding out of the picture as Singapore’s third generation of leaders takes over, Thaksin regards himself as the man to take center stage as leader of the region. 

Thaksin and his men have placed much hope and hype on the Asian Cooperation Dialogue (ACD), presenting this forum as the launching pad from which Thaksin could achieve international stardom. But the informal gathering of Asian ministers has been billed merely as an expensive talk-fest lacking in direction, purpose, and political commitment. 

For the political commentators, journalists, and other Bangkok-based diplomats covering the event, the ACD became a sad joke. While nobody doubts Thaksin’s determination to become an international statesman, the people in Thaksin’s camp recognize that the reputations of Lee and Mahathir, like Rome, were not built in a day. Regardless of how much energy they spend trying to turn the telecom tycoon into a statesman of stature, Thaksin’s supporters know well that he is ultimately going to have to earn his reputation the old-fashioned way. There are no shortcuts to international stardom. If his handling of crises on an international scale—from the terrorist attacks against the US to the waxing and waning of Thai-Burmese bilateral ties—over the past 20 months is any indication, Thaksin’s quest to be recognized as an exemplary international statesman will not be smooth sailing at all.

https://www2.irrawaddy.com/article.php?art_id=2757&page=1

PITFALLS FACING THE NATIONS RUSHING IN WITH AID

Don Pathan
The Nation

When the Japanese stopped giving aid to Burma in 1988 in deference to its Western allies' dicision to isolate the ruling State Law and Order Restoration Council (Slorc) from the world community, rangoon's junta knew they were in for tough times. 

Slorc has since had its hands full containing the country's ethnic minorities fighting for autonomy yet they have still managed to strengthen their grip on power despite constant criticism from foreign governments and condemnation from international human rights groups for the arbitrary detention of Burmese opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi and other political activists. 

On July 10, Slorc stunned the international community by releasing Suu Kyi, who had been under house arrest for nearly six years. The news was doubly surprising as Slorc intelligence chief Lt Gen Khin Nyunt had slammed the West just a week before for hypocrisy and double standard of human rights. 

"The rights of 45 million people in the country are more important than the rights of an individual," said the defiant general. 

Whatever Slorc's reasons for releasing Suu Kyi, the ruling junta must have been certain the action would serve their interests and be worth the accompanying political instability. Most analysts agree that Slorc must feel capable of handling any challenges that may come with Suu Kyi's release. 

Some also suggested that Burma may be making overtures to join the Assciation of South East Asian Nations, which stuck its neck out for Burma against the Western political community and human rights organizations. 

Other believe Japan worked behind the scenes for Suu Kyi's release. Shortly after she was freed, Japan's foreign ministry released a statement calling the event "an important step towards the democratization of Burma". 

A Rangoon based Western diplomat emphasized that Japan's business community made no attempt to hide their disappointment with Tokyo's decision to halt Burmese aid in 1988 with no economic sanctions between the countries and Burma's political instability, most Japanese businesses felt compelled to pull out of Burma. 

Japanese investors were irked when other countries took advantage of Japanese inactivity by cutting deals with Slorc to exploit the country's vast natural wealth. "Before 1988, there were no Koreans, Thais or Singaporeans investing in Burma," said the foreign diplomat. "It was exclusively Japan's turf." 

Indeed, a change in Japan's attitude was apparent in March this year when Tokyo pledged Y 1 billion ($11.5 million) in "humanitarian assistance" to Burma. Moreover, two months later a Y4 billion debt-relief grant was arranged despite the West's continued negative response. 

During a recent news conference after a meeting between Asean and its dialogue partners, which include the US, Japan, South Korea, Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the European Union, Japanese Foreign Minister Yohei Kono said he was "encouraged" by the increasing number of political prisoners being released in Burma. 

He also noted that Suu Kyi's release was not due to pressure from the international community. "We don't believe that the release of Aung San Suu Kyi was brought about by the continued isolation of Burma from the international community," he said. Indonesian Foreign Minister Ali Alatas was quick to credit Suu Kyi's release to Asean's constructive engagement policy. He was echoed almost immediately by foreign ministers from Asean, who stressed the efficacy of constructive engagement which has been criticized by the international community as a thinly disguised scheme to protect Asean's business interests with Slorc.

Constructive engagement calls for a constant, low-key dialogue with Rangoon, continued investment and trade, and the non-imposition of sanctions. Such a policy, Asean argued, would eventually take Burma out of its self-imposed isolation and bring its government in line with the international norms of the world community. 

But while Asena is quick to pat itself on the back, Suu Kyi questioned the policy's effectiveness. She also asked foreign governments to wait before rushing in with aid. 

"The question is, for whom has [constructive engagement] been constructive? Was it constructive for the forces of democracy? Was it constructive for the Burmese people in general? Was it constructive for limited business community? Or was it constructive for Slorc" she asked.