Burma's Fleeing Masses
by Mark Fenn
Posted October 27, 2008
Bangkok and Kuala Lumpur—With his good looks and fashionable clothes, 27-year-old Su could pass for an Asian pop star, or perhaps the small-time kickboxer he used to be back home. In fact, he works illegally as a waiter in a small restaurant in central Bangkok—one of an estimated two million migrants who have left impoverished Burma to seek a better life in Thailand. Fleeing poverty and sometimes brutal oppression at home, they often find themselves living in the shadows, persecuted and exploited in Burma’s wealthier neighbors. Not that Su considers himself a victim. A member of Burma’s Karen ethnic minority, he speaks English in staccato, half-finished sentences punctuated with swear words. He hates the Burmese junta and is a fervent supporter of the struggle for Karen independence. Su admires Burma’s imprisoned democracy icon and Nobel peace laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, as well as Che Guevara—and Rambo. In the latest Rambo film, released this year, the hero teams up with Karen rebels to take on the Burmese army. Pirated DVDs of the film, circulated underground, were reportedly a big hit in Burma. “I like the Rambo style,” says Su, smiling.
It is difficult to estimate the number of migrants who have fled Burma. Some leave for extended periods, while others come and go across its borders in search of jobs. Neighboring China, India and Bangladesh are home to large migrant communities, as is Malaysia to the south. But most go to Thailand, which shares a long and porous border with Burma. According to the Migrant Action Plan Foundation, a Thailand-based NGO, the country is home to around 520,000 registered workers from Burma, plus an estimated 1.5 million illegal migrants. Even registered migrants face abuse and prejudice, and are often paid less than the minimum wage. David Mathieson, a consultant on Burma for Human Rights Watch, said it has wide-ranging concerns about migrant workers in Thailand, including abuse by employers, health and safety issues, and access to healthcare and education for their children. “There are various reasons [why migrant workers leave Burma] and one that is often forgotten is that Thailand clearly needs labor. Migrant workers are actually helping to fuel the Thai economy,” he said.
In a sense, Su is one of the more fortunate ones. He has a passport and was able to enter Thailand on a tourist visa, rather than paying traffickers to smuggle him across the border. He gets paid 4,000 baht ($116) a month—less than a Thai could expect to earn—although his boss also pays for his cheap room and lets him eat his meals in the restaurant. Although he says he has not taken a day off in his first month, Su likes the job as he can save money and improve his English by talking to foreign customers. There are other ethnic Karen working illegally in the neighborhood, and they support each other. However, Su says, many are afraid to leave their lodgings or workplaces for fear of being arrested and deported back to Burma.
Apart from the dire economic conditions, many leave to escape oppression by the Burmese military—particularly those from the myriad ethnic minorities, which together make up around a third of Burma’s population of approximately 48 million. A number of armed ethnic groups have been fighting for independence from the central government for years, although most have now signed uneasy cease-fires with the junta. According to the International Labor Organization and human rights groups, forced labor is commonplace. Burmese soldiers often enter ethnic minority villages and demand men to work on construction projects, or as unpaid porters, carrying arms and supplies for the military. More chillingly, human rights groups have reported that systematic rape of ethnic women by Burmese soldiers is used as a weapon of war and a means to cower local populations. Su has witnessed this for himself. He tells how soldiers would go into houses and drag women out. The villagers could hear them screaming for help but were powerless to do anything. “If you help, you die,” says Su sadly. Sometimes the women killed themselves out of shame after being raped, he added. Su dreams of returning to a free Karen state, and wants to know how he can help his people. “We are clever but we are poor,” he says. “I love my nation.”
It’s a long way from the mountainous far north of Burma to Malaysia’s capital Kuala Lumpur. Yet despite the dangers involved in crossing two borders illegally, it’s a journey 27-year-old Robert was willing to undertake in the search for a better life. An ethnic Kachin and devout Christian, Robert comes from a poor farming family in a village near the remote northern city of Putao. Like Su, he tells how soldiers would rape local women and force men to work as porters. The area is so isolated, said Robert, that “no one can export our news, how we are suffering.” Robert previously lived in India for five years, where he obtained a Bachelor’s degree in theology. Upon returning to his village, Robert got in trouble with the local army commander, who spread rumors that he had studied political science and was opposed to the military. Fearing for his safety, Robert left for the former capital Rangoon, where he agreed to pay an agency the equivalent of $1,100 to smuggle him into Malaysia, via Thailand. The journey from Rangoon to Kuala Lumpur was undertaken by car, bus, train and sometimes on foot, and took around 21 days in total. Robert has lived in Kuala Lumpur for around seven months. He doesn’t work, but survives with help from friends. He still owes the agency money for smuggling him into Malaysia. There are an estimated 150,000 illegal migrants from Burma in Malaysia, and life is seldom easy for them. If caught, police often demand they pay large bribes if they wish to avoid deportation. Men can also be flogged for illegal entry. About a year ago, says Robert, a close friend was caned and spent six months in jail. Robert doesn’t know where he is now, but thinks he may be in Thailand.
Su, Robert and many other migrants dream of returning to a peaceful, democratic and one day prosperous country—“waiting for the good times,” as Su says. In the meantime, the exiled migrants do the best they can to support themselves in alien and often hostile environments. Their stoical attitude is typified by Robert, who believes his life has been shaped by God’s will. “Whatever problem I face, I accept that God has given me different experiences and different kinds of problems, so one day I can build on my experience to help many people,” he says.
Mark Fenn is a British journalist based in Bangkok.
