REPORT FROM ABROAD: The Better Angels of Our Nature

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Created on Tuesday, 22 October 2024 15:48

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EDITOR’S NOTE: Following is second in a series by Mark Gorman of Sitka who is in Myanmar on a mission with a nongovernmental relief organization.  The two QR codes in this article contain short audio clips. The first is Karen choral singing and the second is Thai Buddhist monk chanting. Point your smartphone camera at the link to hear the audio tracks).

By Mark Gorman
    On The Thai-Myanmar Border, October 19, 2024 – This is the end of my second week on the Thai-Myanmar (Burma) border. I’m developing a five-year strategic plan for a school serving 3,000 Karen students who have fled the violence of Myanmar’s civil war. The Karen are one of several ethnic groups in Myanmar fighting for autonomy from the central government.

100-foot tall Buddha. (Photo by Mark Gorman)

    Yesterday, I was invited to attend a Karen church service. This morning I sit with 500 people gathered in the open-sided auditorium, most of them schoolchildren. The sermon is delivered by a Karen named Peacefully.  Although the entire service is in Karen, I am captivated by the choral singing of the boys and girls’ choir.

    About 60% of the Karen practice Theravada Buddhism, while 20-30% identify as Protestant, primarily Baptist. Their connection to Christianity dates back to 1830, when George Boardman, an American Baptist missionary, began his outreach in Burman. Karen legend foretold the arrival of a white prophet.  Boardman’s message was eagerly embraced.
    Many of the Karen refugees in Thailand are Christian. This is reflected in the large number of church-affiliated non-governmental organizations (NGO) assisting here. Importantly, the United Nations and the Royal Thai government restrict NGOs from proselytizing or offering religious services in refugee camps and other humanitarian settings.
    After the service, I travel to the edge of a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. Shwe Kokko (Golden Mountain) sits on the western bank of the Moei River, the boundary between Thailand and Myanmar. Across the river is a high-rise city where none should exist. Shwe Kokko is a center of unchecked vice, corruption, and criminal activity. Chinese marketeers and gangsters run it.  Its businesses are illegal casinos, human trafficking, international drug distribution, prostitution, and cryptocurrency scams. Shwe Kokko thrives in the dark shadows of this lawless frontier and war-conflicted country. It owes its existence to the protection of local warlords and militias who profit immeasurably from this relationship.
    My visit to the banks of the Moei River is cut short. While standing in front of a large white arch reading China View, I am asked to leave this restricted zone by two Thai Border officials. My questions to them are unanswered.
    I return to Mae Sot, a bustling Thai town and economic gateway to Myanmar. The A1 Highway crosses the Moei River here, serving as a crucial trade link between Southeast Asia and the Indian subcontinent. An estimated $1 billion worth of goods flow through this crossing annually.
    In 2016, Nancy and I crossed this border point dozens of times while working at a newly constructed hospital in Karen National Union (KNU)-controlled territory. Formed in 1947, the KNU is one of Myanmar’s largest ethnic organizations, fighting for autonomy and self-determination for the Karen people. During our time at the hospital, we were under the protection of the Karen National Liberation Army (KNLA), with a military outpost less than a kilometer away. Six months later, a 24-hour chase by Myanmar Immigration Police forced us back to Thailand. Today, the hospital is abandoned, a casuality of the civil conflict
    In April, the KNLA launched a fierce battle for control of Myawaddy, the town across the river from Mae Sot. It initially succeeded, holding the town for ten days and shutting down the A1 Highway. However, Myanmar’s military retaliated with airstrikes and artillery, reclaiming the town and its strategic road.
    Today, the bridge remains closed. A razor wire fence stretches along the Thai side of the Moei River, with a row of bamboo stalls hugging this barrier. Large gaps in the fence speak to the ineffectiveness of this deterrent. About 30 Karen and other vendors sell their goods here, offering counterfeit Jack Daniels, Johnnie Walker Black Label, and Absolut Vodka for about $13 a bottle, alongside cigarettes, perfumes, and large bags of dried fish, shrimp, and squid, generating a pungent aroma. At the end of the row, two Thai Border Police officers stand guard, amiably engaging with those passing by.

    Having seen enough of the human potential for a day, I leave for a small Thai village an hour away. I am staying in a little bungalow surrounded by verdant rice paddies and small ponds where women in colorful sarongs and conical bamboo hats fish for tilapia. My evening walk takes me to a nearby 100-foot-tall Buddha. As I approach the adjacent temple, I hear saffron-robed monks chanting in Pali, the ancient language of their faith. I sit on the temple steps, listening as the sun sets behind the Tor Naw Mountains of Myanmar.

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