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| Aung San Suu Kyi: ‘It is hard to think of any recent political leader by whom such high hopes have been so cruelly betrayed.’ Photograph: Edgar Su/Reuters |
Few of us expect much from political leaders: to do
otherwise is to invite despair. But to Aung San Suu Kyi we entrusted our hopes.
To mention her name was to invoke patience and resilience in the face of
suffering, courage and determination in the unyielding struggle for freedom.
She was an inspiration to us all.
She has denied the very identity of the people being
attacked, asking the US ambassador not to use the term Rohingya
Friends of mine devoted their working lives to the campaign
for her release from the many years of detention imposed by the military
dictatorship of Myanmar, and for the restoration of democracy. We celebrated
when she was awarded the Nobel peace prize in 1991; when she was finally
released from house arrest in 2010; and when she won the general election in
2015.
None of this is forgotten. Nor are the many cruelties she
suffered, including isolation, physical attacks and the junta’s curtailment of
her family life. But it is hard to think of any recent political leader by whom
such high hopes have been so cruelly betrayed.
By any standards, the treatment of the Rohingya people, a
Muslim minority in Myanmar, is repugnant. By the standards Aung San Suu Kyi
came to symbolise, it is grotesque. They have been described by the UN as “the
world’s most persecuted minority”, a status that has not changed since she took
office.
The Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of Genocide
describes five acts, any one of which, when “committed with intent to destroy,
in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group”, amounts
to genocide. With the obvious and often explicit purpose of destroying this
group, four of them have been practised more or less continuously by Myanmar’s
armed forces since Aung San Suu Kyi became de facto political leader.
Aung San Suu Kyi says 'terrorists' are misinforming world
about Myanmar violence
I recognise that the armed forces retain great power in
Myanmar, and that Aung San Suu Kyi does not exercise effective control over
them. I recognise that the scope of her actions is limited. But, as well as a
number of practical and legal measures that she could use directly to restrain
these atrocities, she possesses one power in abundance: the power to speak out.
Rather than deploying it, her response amounts to a mixture of silence, the
denial of well-documented evidence, and the obstruction of humanitarian aid.
I doubt she has read the UN human rights report on the
treatment of the Rohingyas, released in February. The crimes it revealed were
horrific.
It documents the mass rape of women and girls, some of whom
died as a result of the sexual injuries they suffered. It shows how children
and adults had their throats slit in front of their families.
It reports the summary executions of teachers, elders and
community leaders; helicopter gunships randomly spraying villages with gunfire;
people shut in their homes and burnt alive; a woman in labour beaten by
soldiers, her baby stamped to death as it was born.
It details the deliberate destruction of crops and the
burning of villages to drive entire populations out of their homes; people
trying to flee gunned down in their boats.
In response Aung San Suu Kyi has blamed these atrocities, in
a chillingly remote interview, on insurgents, and expressed astonishment that
anyone would wish to fight the army when the government has done so much for
them. Perhaps this astonishment comes easily to someone who has never visited
northern Rakhine state, where most of this is happening.Hard as it is to imagine,
this campaign of terror has escalated in recent days. Refugees arriving in
Bangladesh report widespread massacres. Malnutrition ravages the Rohingya,
afflicting 80,000 children.
It is true that some Rohingya people have taken up arms, and
that the latest massacres were triggered by the killing of 12 members of the
security forces last month, attributed to a group that calls itself the Arakan
Rohingya Salvation Army. But the military response has been to attack entire
populations, regardless of any possible involvement in the insurgency, and to
spread such terror that 120,000 people have been forced to flee in the past
fortnight.
In her Nobel lecture, Aung San Suu Kyi remarked: “Wherever
suffering is ignored, there will be the seeds of conflict, for suffering
degrades and embitters and enrages.” The rage of those Rohingya people who have
taken up arms has been used as an excuse to accelerate an existing programme of
ethnic cleansing.
She has not only denied the atrocities, attempting to shield
the armed forces from criticism; she has also denied the very identity of the
people being attacked, asking the US ambassador not to use the term Rohingya.
This is in line with the government’s policy of disavowing their existence as
an ethnic group, and classifying them – though they have lived in Myanmar for
centuries – as interlopers. She has upheld the 1982 Citizenship Law, which
denies these people their rights.
When a Rohingya woman provided detailed allegations about
her gang rape and associated injuries by Myanmar soldiers, Aung San Suu Kyi’s
office posted a banner on its Facebook page reading “Fake Rape”. Given her
reputation for micromanagement, it seems unlikely that such action would have
been taken without her approval.
Not only has she snubbed and obstructed UN officials who
have sought to investigate the treatment of the Rohingya, but her government
has prevented aid agencies from distributing food, water and medicines to
people displaced or isolated by the violence. Her office has accused aid workers
of helping “terrorists”, putting them at risk of attack, further impeding their
attempts to help people who face starvation.
Aung San Suu Kyi: Myanmar's great hope fails to live up to
expectations
So far Aung San Suu Kyi has been insulated by the
apologetics of those who refuse to believe she could so radically abandon the
principles to which she once appealed. A list of excuses is proffered: that she
didn’t want to jeopardise her prospects of election; that she doesn’t want to
offer the armed forces a pretext to tighten their grip on power; that she has
to keep China happy.
None of them stand up. As a great democracy campaigner once
remarked: “It is not power that corrupts, but fear. Fear of losing power
corrupts those who wield it.” Who was this person? Aung San Suu Kyi. But now,
whether out of prejudice or out of fear, she denies to others the freedoms she
rightly claimed for herself. Her regime excludes – and in some cases seeks to
silence – the very activists who helped to ensure her own rights were
recognised.
This week, to my own astonishment, I found myself
signing a petition for the revocation of her Nobel peace prize. I believe the Nobel
committee should retain responsibility for the prizes it awards, and withdraw
them if its laureates later violate the principles for which they were
recognised. There are two cases in which this appears to be appropriate. One is
Barack Obama, who, bafflingly, was given the prize before he was tested in
office. His programme of drone strikes, which slaughtered large numbers of
civilians, should disqualify him from this honour. The other is Aung San Suu
Kyi.
