Letter from Burma (No. 2) -by- Aung San Suu Kyi

Mainichi Daily News
December 4, 1995

Glimpses of History and Untamed Beauty
"Road to Thamanya (2)"

The country we had been going through was rocky. At Mokpalin we had passed a rock quarry where, I was told, convicts were usually to be seen working. We saw none on our way to Thamanya, but on our way back we saw two men in white with chains on their legs trotting along the roadway, shouldering a pole from which hung large baskets full of broken rock.

In the vicinity of Kyaik - hto is the Kyaik - htiyoe pagoda. It is only 15 feet in height but it is one of the most famous religious monuments in Burma because it is built on a large skull shaped rock amazingly balanced on the edge of a jutting crag 3,600 feet above sea level. Its perch is so precarious that the push of one strong man can set it rocking gently. Yet it has managed to maintain its equilibrium over many centuries.

There are rubber plantations all along the route from the Sittang bridge until the town of Thaton, a straggling place with a slightly battered air. When we were schoolchildren we were taught that rubber was one of the main export products of Burma. But over the last few decades our rubber industry gradually went downhill and now rubber no longer features among our important natural assets.

Once upon a time Thaton with its twilight air was a thriving capital and a famous center for Buddhism, ruled over by the Mon King Manuha, a monarch who commanded the respect of friend and foe alike. Although he was defeated in battle and carried away as a captive by King Anawratha of Pagan, Manuha's personal stature remained undiminished. Popular Burmese history has it that even in defeat his glory was so manifest, every time Manuha made obeisance to Anawratha, the victor king broke out into a goose flesh of fear. In the end, it is said, Anawratha managed to destroy Manuha's glory by underhanded means.

In Pagan today there still remains the Manuha stupa with dedication by the captive king praying that he might never again, in any of his future lives, be defeated by another. The sympathetic account given of King Manuha is one of the most admirable parts of Burmese history, demonstrating a lack of ethnic prejudice and unstinting respect for a noble enemy.

From Thaton we continued to travel in an easterly direction and at about eleven o'clock we entered the state of Karen. The state capital Pa-an lies on the east bank of the river Salween which we crossed by car ferry. Pa-an is a spacious town, quiet and pleasantly countrified. We did not stop there as we had made arrangements to meet members of the Karen State NLD only on the way back from Thamanya.

There is an untamed beauty about the lands around Pa-an. The area is notable for its striking hills that rise sheer from the ground. In some of the hills are caves in which old Mon inscriptions, images and pagodas have been found. It was in one of these caves that a queen of Manuha took refuge after the defeat of her husband. It is believed that this queen later moved, for greater security, to the foot of "Paddy Seed Hill" and that it was she who had the two pagodas constructed on its summit.

As we approached Thamanya, the quiet seemed to deepen. It was difficult to imagine that we were close to areas which have served as battlefields for most of the last 50 years. Fighting had broken out between government troops and Karen insurgents almost as soon as Burma was declared an independent nation in January 1948. And there has not yet been a political settlement that could bring permanent peace to this land with its wild, magical quality.

The Hsayadaw of Thamanya is a vegetarian and only vegetarian food is served in his domain. It is customary for those making the journey to Thamanya to start eating vegetarian food at least the day before they set out. We too had been eating vegetarian food and we felt full of health and calm self - satisfaction as we covered the last lap of our journey. Suddenly it occurred to us that the quietness and feeling of ease had to do with something more than the beauties of nature or our state of mind. We realized that the road had become less rough. Our vehicle was no longer leaping from crater to rut and we were no longer rolling around like peas in a basin.

As soon as we passed under the archway that marked the beginning of the domain of Thamanya, we noted that the road was even better, a smooth, well - kept black ribbon winding into the distance. The difference between the road we had traveled and the road on which we now found our- selves struck all of us. This road had been built and maintained by the Hsayadaw for the convenience of the villagers who lived around the hill and of the pilgrims who came in their tens and thousands each year. It was far superior to many a highway to be found in Rangoon.

(This is the second in a yearlong series of letters, the Japanese translation of which appears in the Mainichi Shimbun the same day, or the previous day in some areas.)