Get Herald RSSThe recent news from Burma has been disturbing, even to the most jaded or apathetic observer. The military government's brutal quashing of pro-democracy demonstrations has resulted in thousands of arrests and as many as 200 deaths. What's more, the protests have helped draw attention to the regime's ongoing crimes. The economy has been irreparably stunted by decades of mismanagement, and a counterinsurgency campaign against some of Burma's recalcitrant ethnic minorities has displaced hundreds of thousands from their homes. Burma's well-wishers in the international community hope that the generals will cede power to a democratically elected coalition. Unfortunately, the prospect of such a transition is abysmally remote.
Most advocates of the regime's downfall believe that economic pressure will prove effective. Burma's shattered economy relies heavily on exports of oil and natural gas, and if its customers could be convinced to stop buying, the generals would certainly take notice. When it comes to this policy, the first hurdle is a big one: China. The two nations have considerable economic ties, especially from the Burmese perspective. China provides discounted military equipment and in return receives huge quantities of cheap oil and natural gas, as well a chance to take advantage of Burma's other natural resources. As long as this exchange persists, the dictatorship will be sustainable, and China will protect its interests by vetoing potential U.N. sanctions.
A boycott of the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing is widely recognized as the best option for driving a wedge between the two countries, but its chances for fruition are slim. Despite worldwide protests in solidarity with Burmese activists, most governments are reluctant to withdraw their Olympic delegations. A grassroots effort is even less likely to be successful. Athletes would have to choose between their consciences and their life ambitions, and given the ruthless competition for a place in the Olympics, those who chose the former wouldn't be hard to replace. Potential spectators, another possible target for boycott advocates, are in even more plentiful supply.
Though unlikely, a boycott of significant size would embarrass the Chinese. But their basic political and economic calculus would remain the same. Olympic humiliation might damage China's international prestige, but the abandonment of lucrative and well-cultivated connections to Burma would have a concrete and immediate economic impact. Also, China's leaders know that Burma is not their only public relations liability. Appeasement on this front could embolden human rights activists to assail their relationship with the Sudan. In the end, if the price of silencing their international critics is too high, the Chinese will just stop listening.
China may attempt to defuse a potential boycott by curtailing its economic relations with the Burmese government - cutting back fuel or arms trade, for example. But China is only one of three energy-hungry, rapidly developing nations on Burma's borders. India already supplies the regime with weapons and equipment to secure a share of its energy wealth, and Thailand is Burma's most important trade partner. Without deterrence from the U.N. sanctions that China is currently sure to veto, India and Thailand will snap up any contracts with Burma that China abandons.
All these factors set the bar very high when it comes to an Olympic boycott. The only meaningful result would be a complete end to trade with Burma, along with Chinese acquiescence to U.N. sanctions that would prevent India and Thailand from filling the void.
But even a successful boycott won't guarantee a democratic triumph. The final barrier is the psychology of Burma's rulers. General Than Shwe and his peers are the heirs of a military tradition forged by anti-imperialist guerilla campaigns against the British and the Japanese. They fiercely believe that Burma must never again bow to the will of foreigners, and to them enduring total economic isolation will be just one more phase of the struggle for their nation's freedom - perverse as that may seem. They also have their personal self-interest to look after. While the military is far too influential to be completely ousted from the government, any concession to democracy would threaten to diminish their power.
This means that mere isolation won't cause the generals to change their minds. Only the slow erosion of the morale of Burma's soldiers, who currently hold a position of relative privilege contingent on their loyalty, could effect such a shift. If the general misery of complete isolation degrades soldiers' standard of living to such a degree that insubordination becomes common, the generals might reevaluate their stance in order to stave off mutiny.
Such a scenario is only slightly far-fetched. The military, which claims to be a great patron and defender of Buddhism, has already damaged its legitimacy by beating and imprisoning Buddhist monks, who are exalted by their fellow Burmese. When this damage is compounded by the general misery of isolation, the formidable morale and cohesion of the military might start to crack. Until then - until the campaigns, the boycotts and the sanctions have all had their fullest possible effect - the military will remain an immovable barrier to democratic change.
There are also serious questions about how much Burma's situation will really improve with the advent of democracy. Over the past 45 years, the doctrine of military primacy has become deeply engrained in Burmese life. Even Aung San Suu Kyi, the regime's most prominent opponent, has admitted that the military will play a major role in any democratically elected government. If the regime's leaders are shrewd enough, such an arrangement could allow them to continue all their current abuses under a veneer of democracy.
The protestors at Brown and across the world are admirable, and many are clearly prepared for a long, hard slog towards Burmese democracy. But they are struggling against staggering odds.
William Martin '10 and Daniel Feinglos '09 are the Foreign Policy editors of the Brown Policy Review.
