Letter from Burma #23 (ASSK) reform

[strider@xxxxxxxxxxx]

Received: (from strider) by igc2.igc.apc.org (8.7.5/8.7.3) id KAA07798; Mon, 29 Apr 1996 10:01:10 -0700 (PDT)
Date: Mon, 29 Apr 1996 10:01:10 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Letter from Burma #23 (ASSK) reformatted

Message-Id: <199604291659.JAA07563@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: strider@xxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: "Daw Suu's Letter from Burma #23" (reformatted)
Status: R

/* Written  8:44 AM  Apr 29, 1996 by carol@xxxxxxx in igc:reg.burma */
/* ---------- "Daw Suu's Letter from Burma #23" ---------- */

Mainichi Daily News, Monday, April 29, 1996

KEEPING INNOCENT SONGS FROM BECOMING WAR CHANTS

"Old Songs"

Letter from Burma (No. 23) by Aung San Suu Kyi

	Some days ago two young Japanese women studying Burmese at Osaka
University of Foreign Studies came to see me at a very opportune time. 
U Kyi Maung and I wanted help in translating a couple of Japanese songs. 
A few weeks ago U Kyi Maung had spoken at one of our weekend public
meetings about these songs which he had learnt as a young soldier.  Many
of the songs of the armed forces of Burma date back to the days of World
War II and have Burmese lyrics put to Japanese tunes.  Thus visitors
from Japan who watch Burmese television today hear sounds associated
with the days of militarist fascism and tend to ask with surprise and/or
derision: "Why do you play these old fascist songs in your country?"
	U Kyi Maung explained that there was nothing intrinsically
fascist about the original Japanese words of some of the songs and
mentioned two which are well known in their Burmese versions.  As I
expressed an interest in learning more about such songs, he acquired
from an old friend of his military academy days a couple of sheets of
paper on which were printed, in prewar-style Japanese, a number of the
songs he had been taught as a young solider.
	With the help of the two young Japanese women we translated
hesitatingly, the words of a song entitled /Hohei no uta/ [Infantry's
tune]:
 
 "The color on my neckband is that of the blossom of the many-branched sakura
 As the flowers of Yoshino drop in the wind,
 Those born as sons of Yamato
 Fall courageously on the frontline like flowers.
 The gun that measures one /shaku/ is no weapon.
 A remnant of sword can achieve nothing.
 It is the spirit of Yamato, instilled repeatedly
 Beyond the realms of memory
 Since over two thousand years ago,
 That keeps two hundred thousand soldiers
 In seventy stations,
 Defending their flag,
 Never surrendering their position,
 Not even in their dreams."

In another song, /Aiba Shingun Ka/ [March for My Lovely Horse]:
	"How long ago is it since I left my country
	Prepared to die together with this horse?
	Old horse, are you feeling sleepy?
	The reins I hold are as a vein that
	Links your blood to mine."

	What, U Kyi Maung queried, is there about such words that is
fascist or even particularly militaristic?  An evocation of tender
cherry blossoms, an emphasis on the spirit rather than on weapons, a
sentimental ditty about an old horse.  But because these songs were sung
repeatedly as the Japanese army marched across Asia in obedience to the
commands a fascist military government, leaving devastation in its wake,
the very tunes have come to be regarded as inauspicious sounds
reverberating with the army; his discipline, self-sacrifice and love of
nature, were wiped out by the deeds he was made to perform at the behest
of leaders who had swept aside liberal values and chosen the way of
military aggression to gain their ends, indifferent to the suffering of
others.
	March 27, 1945 was the day when the people of Burma rose up in
resistance against fascism.  The National League for Democracy (NLD)
commemorated Fascist Resistance Day this year with a lecture at which
several people spoke of their personal experiences during the resistance
movement.  The first speaker was Bohmu Aung, a hale octogenarian who had
been one the Thirty Comrades, a group of young men led by my father who
received military training from the Japanese army on Hainan Island in
1941.  Then U Tin U and U Maung Maung Gyi, another member of the NLD,
spoke of events during the early months of 1945 from the point of view
of those who were at the time merely junior officers in the Burmese
armed forces.  The last two speakers were a widely respected literary
couple, U Khin Maung Latt and Daw Khin Myo Chit.  Their modest and witty
recollections of the part they as civilians had played in the resistance
movement were particularly valuable.  It reminded us of the crucial
contribution made by the ordinary citizens of Burma toward the success
of the struggle to free our country from both fascist domination and
colonial rule.  There are some things that we should not forget.
	It is the love of ordinary people, in Burma, in Japan or
anywhere else in the world, for justice and peace and freedom that is
our surest defense against the forces of unreason and extremism that
turn innocent songs into threatening chants of war. 

* * *

This article is one of yearlong series of letters, the Japanese translation
of which appears in the Mainichi Shimbun the same day, or the previous day
in some areas.