How 60 years of military dictatorship continue to influence the next generation of Myanmar
I’ve been in Myanmar just over 2 weeks now and feel like “a fish in the water” (a German expression for I am totally in my element). Whilst I really want to share a few stories about the time a tattooed monk photo-bombed a group of strangers taking a picture with me…
...or the time it took me 3 sweaty people-carriers (packed to the rim with people and cabbages, no AC at 38 degrees) to make my way back to Yangon after a day trip to Bago (a pagoda town that I explored on the back of a motorbike of a random guy I met at a dilapidated train station after a very shaky journey in a romantic ancient train where I made friends with 5 mice and a girl selling snacks wrapped in banana leaves)…
I’d rather tell you about the power of education and the importance organisations like Prospect Burma have played in Myanmar, especially over the last 30 years. Don’t yawn. “education is important” we’ve heard it all before, but this is something else.
I’ve spoken to colleagues, alumni and other Myanmar people and this is a summary of their stories.
60 years of military rule have impacted Myanmar in many ways. Lack of education is probably the biggest issue that will leave another generation experiencing the effects of the dictatorship.
Preventing people from independent thought is the most strategic way to keep a power in place. Forbid people to question or to challenge and you reduce the risk of being toppled over in the short-run (for example, by silencing the media or prohibiting free speech). Completely eradicate people’s ability to question or to challenge and maintaining your status quo is almost guaranteed. That’s what the Myanmar military government consciously decided to do from about 1960-2011. Schools were places simply for schooling and no longer for education.
Schools consisted of “paper, pens a teacher and their stick”. Memorisation and punishment being the teaching methodology of choice. Those fortunate enough would send their children to monastic (Buddhist) or other faith schools. (…)
The regime used drastic measures to cling on to absolute power for decades. Unfortunately for them however, not all of human ability to question and rebel is shaped through our institutions and prevalent paradigm. In 1988 pro-democracy movements which began as a student protest led by several passionate individuals hit the country like a wave. Peaceful demonstrations were held in every major city. Eventually, the army opened fire on the un-armed protestors, killing hundreds, including doctors and nurses attending to the wounded. That didn’t stop the movement as people continued taking to the streets. (Note that this went pretty much ignored by the international community, unlike Tiananmen Square shortly after). It briefly looked like the regime had lost grip of their throne and there was hope for about 5 minutes.
However, the military retaliated with tighter controls than ever before, pretty much shutting the country down entirely from any foreign contact. Literally! Embassies were closed, and bilateral ties cut. This is around the time Aung Sung Su Kyii, returned to Myanmar from the UK to become a prominent activist in the National League for Democracy prompting her house arrest.
Before General Ne Win came to power in the 1960s, Yangon University attracted international students from all over Asia. Throughout the decades that followed its reputation imploded and following the 1988 uprisings, the university was strategically shut down by the government for many years. When it eventually (temporarily) re-opened, the government separated the campus, so students had minimal interactions with each other, stifling any opportunity to for interdisciplinary thought and thus an ability to revolt at the regime. Pretty genius.
The quality of education remained intentionally poor (both at university and school level). Teachers were underpaid and incentivised to bring down the educational standard even more in order to offer expensive private tutoring session after class for those who could afford and were motivated to learn.
Around this time Prospect Burma was set up to specifically target the issue of the disintegrating education situation. Initially a foundation of Aung Sung Su Kyi’s, PB eventually became non-politically affiliated. Prospect Burma then – as it does now- provides scholarships to ambitious, underprivileged Myanmar students to study abroad (up until recently, and to a certain extent still now the only hope of a decent education). The vast majority of PB students return after graduating, using their skills to set up clinics, education centres, start their own NGOs or have a corporate career. So far around 1,500 Myanmar people are part of the growing alumni network and the impact of the “Prospect Burma Multiplier Effect” is incredible.
In the 2000s after several movements ending in civilian bloodshed, civil wars and a cyclone killing 140,000 people left the crumbling dictatorship no choice but to slowly transition towards democratic reforms around 2011, when a dodgy election was held. (I remember visiting Myanmar that year with my family and pictures of Aung San Su Kyi were everywhere. Up until that point her image was strictly forbidden). The first internationally recognised official elections were held in 2015 and the National League for Democracy won by a landslide. (There are currently the first local elections being held in Yangon. It’s a hoot! Loads of parties in the street (political and fun parties)).
Nevertheless, even today a Myanmar Bachelor’s degree is worthless to employers without an expensive vocational training certificate. Educational reforms have been a priority with the new government, but unlike other areas of economic development, the effects of educational reform won’t be seen for a long time.
Even if the education system were to change overnight, it wouldn’t have an impact on the labour market for another generation. And it can’t change overnight. For obvious reasons such as that the mentality around education having to be changed in an entire country: re-training teachers, re-writing syllabi and advocating the benefits of education to sceptical parents around the country (a large proportion of children end up not going to school or only completing a few years).
There are also less obvious reasons: traditional classrooms in Myanmar have long permanently fixed benches with tables attached. To introduce co-operative learning, they would all have to physically be chucked out and replaced with individual tables and chairs…expensive. Also, catching up with basic standards of science and technology labs is extremely costly. You get the gist, there’s a long way to go and I have met so many passionate, ambitious people from all walks of life that can’t wait to get there.
Many learnt behaviours have little to do with natural intelligence but are instead highly dependent on the education setting. Myanmar is now feeling the effect of that. International employers are struggling with the lack of strategic, critical thinking. The government is led by many passionate, dedicated people but some of whom lack the technical skills from having been withheld education or spending years as political prisoners. Civil wars and genocides are breaking out partly due to people blindly believing the “news” on Facebook.
Before arriving in Yangon, I knew a fair bit about the country’s recent history and had a hunch that the education situation wouldn’t be great. Having spent my high-school years in Vietnam where many of my textbooks were illegally photo-copied as they were banned by the communist government, I’ve had a basic understanding of what educational censorship means in action. What I wasn’t prepared for was the active dissemination of an education system: physically closing access to learning in an attempt to dumb down an entire population to benefit the powerful few. I have an incredible amount of respect for those who against all odds found ways to educate themselves, to question and challenge authority when the only thing they were taught was not to do this.
I feel grateful for the education I received from my motivated, inspiring teachers and my incredibly supportive parents. (For about 8 of my 12 years at school it was a bit of battle for them to get me to care. I’m so sorry!). But even with my apparent appreciation, hearing the stories around me now make me understand that I have taken it all for granted.
Once we’ve learnt how to learn and to question, it’s the only thing that can’t be taken from us and the effect of that is super powerful. Never trust those who fear that power. Not just governments, but any organisation or individual, particularly those who claim to be a “figure of authority”. Sometimes we get lazy though, and let our undervalued powers slip away, numbed by other sources of entertainment. Equally as scary.
The whole situation is pretty insane. We’re talking about a single-digit number of years ago where what I am currently writing would have been punishable. I’m sitting in a charming roadside café in the north of Yangon (not far from where the 1988 protests started) with (almost) perfect wifi access, uploading my simplified views of the state of affairs to share with whomever bored (or generous) enough to read it. Change is happening quickly, and I hope that leapfrogging decades of missed opportunities in education can follow the pace.
