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Re Edward Goldwyn's story



The following story is for all you soap opera buffs, real tear-jerking
spin. Utterly self-serving, and pathetic. Read it and barf over the RG
story, especially the last line, here up first, so you get the spin, and
don't waste your time seeing how to suck up to dictators to bring baby
home. Its makes you wonder though, how turned the struggle against the
dictatorship into a story to promote their family and the junta. 

> > Within minutes the Burmese community here were writing
> > press releases saying how traitorous she was. Rachel had
> > achieved more publicity for their cause than they had in
> > decades. Is this the way to treat a brave girl who bore
> > witness to the world, at huge danger to herself? In her words,
> > "I stood up for people who had no voice."
> >
For the Goldwyns, it all came down to FREEDOM AT ANY PRICE.

They obviously dont care to follow in the footsteps of the brave and
heroic. Lillian Hellman called her biography, "An Unfinished Woman".
Well, Goldwyn is finished as far as many of us in the Free Burma
movement are concerned. Lillian Hellman would have kicked her generals,
Goldwyn kissed them, with tears and thankfulness.

Her father questions even if genocide in burma exists. Hell, Daddy
Goldwyn wanted baby home and did all he had to to get her back. And the
generals gave her a charming spanking in dictator hospitality. 

read it and weap, not for her, but for the real victims, and for her
pathetic desire to betray them.

Perhaps they really believe the junta believed in their newly founded
"idealism"; here there is only cyncial selfish pandering. you can bet
that goldwyn will try to turn his expenses into a documentary of one
sort or another and sell that, or give it to the generals, with their
drug dealing funding. this guy would do anything.like he says, he was
willing to get on his knees, and bark for his baby. and baby liked that
too. all barkers. like her, chained to a fence, to give a voice to free
burma. no thanks, they have one, and despite his waywardness, they dont
need the goldwyns to speak out for them. that too is pathetic and
outrageous misfortune, on the goldwyn pathos; how utterly repugnant that
they should trod on the memory and sacrifice of free burma victims, even
doubting the events of 1988. These people will do and doubt anything. 

Whereas James knows what Lillian Hellman and Edward should have know,
and obviously little baby Rachel never did: 

"I found out something more useful and more dangerous; if you are
willing to take the punishment, you are halfway through the battle."




> > http://www.sunday-times.co.uk/cgi-bin/BackIssue?999
> >
> > Edward Goldwyn tells how he and his wife launched a
> >  charm offensive that helped persuade the Burmese to free
> >            their dissident daughter Rachel
> >             Saving Rachel
> >
> >
> > My daughter Rachel said she was going on holiday to
> > Germany, but my wife Charmian (always known as Chum)
> > had a sneaky suspicion that she might be in Burma. On
> > Monday, September 6, she phoned and said: "Hello Mum,
> > how are you? I'm in Germany." The following day we learnt
> > that she had been arrested in Rangoon for chaining herself to
> > a railing in a busy street and singing a pro-democracy song.
> >
> > That day I had been to hospital: I don't hear in one ear, which
> > could have been due to a growth - but just that day we
> > discovered that it was okay. We came home walking on air
> > and found a message on the answering machine from the
> > Foreign Office, saying please call them. Our first thought was
> > that Rachel must have had a serious accident in Germany.
> > When they told us that she had been arrested in Burma,
> > Chum burst into tears. Knowing that James Mawdsley, the
> > pro-democracy campaigner, had been sent to prison there for
> > l7 years, we felt desperate.
> >
> > As a family we have always cared about democracy and
> > inequality in a middle-class way. Chum and I were both on
> > the Aldermaston marches and Chum took Rachel to
> > Greenham Common. As a television documentary-maker, I
> > have made many programmes about the Third World and the
> > family have often come
> >
> > with me.
> >
> > In 1997 Rachel set off on a sightseeing trip around the world,
> > backpacking with Bob, a college friend. In Thailand, near the
> > Burmese border, they were overheard speaking English by a
> > Canadian who provided English lessons in refugee camps.
> > They went to the camp and stayed as teachers for nine
> > months.
> >
> > Rachel became very involved with the refugees - the civilian
> > victims of the bloody fighting between the Burmese and
> > Karenni armies just over the border. She was surrounded by
> > landmine victims who had lost limbs, orphans, widows and
> > girls who had been raped. She naturally formed a picture of
> > the Burmese military authorities as evil.
> >
> > When she came back to London she was rather at a loss.
> > She went to talk to the many different factions of the Burmese
> > dissidents over here and tried to organise a weekend
> > workshop, but nobody turned up.
> >
> > We knew that Rachel was committed to getting the Burmese
> > a better deal, but we didn't think she would go as far as she
> > did. For five days after we'd heard she was arrested, nobody
> > knew where she was. Chum and I would find ourselves
> > awake in the middle of the night thinking: "What's happening
> > to our little girl now?"
> >
> > In fact, she had decided to use a hunger strike to force the
> > Burmese to allow her access to the British consul.
> > Desperately worried, Chum spoke to James Mawdsley's
> > mother, who said: "Chin up. The first time James was caught
> > he was deported straight away. Rachel will be out
> > immediately."
> >
> > Amid all the confusion, we contacted an old friend, Stephen
> > Jakobi, who runs a charity called Fair Trials Abroad. He said:
> > "You need to decide your strategy and then tell the Foreign
> > Office how they fit in with it. Then issue a press release."
> >
> > By then I had notes on 53 good arguments on why Rachel
> > should be released. I ranted on while Stephen listened. Then
> > he said, "I know now." With one finger, he typed: "This is a
> > case of misplaced idealism." That single sentence focused all
> > our energy. At 4pm on September 7, the phone rang and we
> > heard from the British consul that Rachel had been sentenced
> > to seven years in jail. We cried. Chum rang our older
> > daughter Naomi. She cried. Whoever I rang cried.
> >
> > I spent the next 48 hours on the phone, chasing the day as it
> > went around the world. In the afternoons, I talked to
> > American experts on Burma, at night I contacted Australian
> > and Singapore academics and businessmen with Burmese
> > connections. After dawn, the Europeans. A common
> > consensus emerged: first, we had to go in person and appeal
> > as a family for their understanding.
> >
> > Second, don't think of the military as a gang of drug-running
> > gangsters. They see themselves as hardworking, religious,
> > intensely patriotic men "doing our best for the good of the
> > people of our country".
> >
> > We had not been granted Burmese visas and finally wrote to
> > the Burmese ambassador, explaining that Rachel was
> > idealistic, describing her time in the refugee camp and
> > apologising for the embarrassment she had caused. He
> > explained that the camps were bases for the insurgent armies
> > and she would have been presumed to be a mercenary.
> >
> > The ambassador conceded there might have been a mistake
> > and got us visas. He said he would arrange a minor
> > diplomatic reception for us. When we looked surprised, he
> > replied: "You have done nothing wrong. We respect aged
> > parents."
> >
> > The day before we flew to Rangoon, Chum went shopping to
> > buy Rachel bras without underwires (she wasn't allowed them
> > in prison). What else could we buy her? Tins and jars and an
> > Alpen sort of thing from the supermarket. The next day we
> > stepped off a plane into the tropical heat and were taken to a
> > simple, clean hotel. That night we went to meet the British
> > consul at his home, a beautiful old colonial house with dark
> > wood, high ceilings and white upholstered furniture.
> >
> > We told him our philosophy was to meet the government
> > ministers alone as two parents, not with representatives of the
> > British government making official demands. Alone with the
> > military leaders, we could talk about our family and ask them
> > about theirs. It was an advantage that we were ignorant of
> > diplomatic protocol. As long as we were polite, we could
> > raise anything and even go down on our knees.
> >
> > The British ambassador said: "I think one of us should go
> > along just to get you started." Chum looked at me and shook
> > her head. "No, thank you," I said. "We'll go alone, as contrite
> > parents asking the generals for their sympathy. We'll keep in
> > touch and if it goes wrong, ask for your help." The next
> > morning we were driven through streets full of charcoal
> > smoke and vegetables and overloaded buses honking their
> > way along roads. We turned into a gate and drove past rows
> > of soldiers with AK-47s held across their chests. The guards
> > saluted us. Everyone stood up as we were taken through
> > offices into a huge meeting room.
> >
> > When the minister for home affairs arrived, Chum and I said
> > we were sorry for Rachel's actions and described the Rachel
> > we love. After an hour the minister, Colonel Tin Hlaing, said
> > through the interpreter: "Don't worry. Things will be fine but it
> > will take time. Meanwhile, you should see the country." We
> > asked to see Rachel. He said: "We respect you for coming
> > here. You may see her as often as you wish."
> >
> > We had been told to expect only one visit a month. Straight
> > away we set off on the long, slow drive to the jail though
> > traffic and crowded markets. Chum and I held hands in the
> > back of the ministry car, feeling absolutely terrified. Rachel
> > had been inside for three weeks; it was two months since we
> > had seen her. The car stopped and we were surrounded by
> > military intelligence photographers.
> >
> > We were shown into a meeting room where the prison
> > doctor, the prison governor and a military intelligence officer
> > sat on armchairs covered in pink lace. The doctor told us
> > Rachel was fine. After tea and biscuits we walked a few
> > yards into a vast room, which was empty except for a small
> > square table at the far end. Rachel was sitting at the table,
> > upright and dressed in white, with her back to us. It was
> > overwhelmingly theatrical. We weren't sure how to behave.
> > We walked forward, saying: "Rachel, Rachel." She turned
> > with a radiant smile and we ran towards each other and the
> > three of us hugged.
> >
> > We sat down. Rachel looked ethereal but all right,
> > considering her three weeks in solitary confinement. She soon
> > took charge of this novel meeting and introduced us to her
> > wardens. A full posse of officials and prison staff watched all
> > our visits. At the end of the visit, I apologised for the
> > disturbance and said we would come every other day from
> > then on. They thanked me. We asked if we could bring
> > Rachel food and books. Every letter and book was translated
> > and vetted. Rachel gave us lists of books she wanted for the
> > Far East development studies course she was meant to start
> > in London in October.
> >
> > We left her in that awful place with very heavy feelings. She
> > was under 24-hour surveillance even when she was on the
> > lavatory, and the light was always on. We brought her the
> > blackout eyemasks we were given on the plane. Towards the
> > end, she had pen and paper, which helped her become very
> > structured. She didn't have a watch but she knew by the
> > shadows in her cell what time of the day it was. She'd
> > exercise and read and study. On every visit we'd take her
> > food from a street market near our hotel.
> >
> > Chum and I had to convince the authorities that we truly were
> > an idealistic family with a similarly inclined daughter. We
> > knew the stakes were the highest we had ever had in our
> > lives. We had been told by our experts that everyone we met
> > would write a report that would influence when Rachel was
> > freed.
> >
> > We asked to visit things that would give us an understanding
> > of Burma. We were treated like VIPs and accompanied by
> > our senior case officer, Major Myo Khaing, to see the
> > national museum, temples, pagodas, the new airport and
> > container port, housing projects and stores.
> >
> > It was very tiring, but if you make the effort, anything can
> > become interesting. We asked to visit our professional
> > counterparts. We went to television studios for me and on
> > long hospital ward rounds for Chum.
> >
> > After six weeks in his company, we became very close to
> > Myo. We argued with him often about torture and freedom of
> > speech, but reached understanding when we talked about our
> > families. He believed a country is more important than an
> > individual. The military has ruled Burma for so long that he
> > could make no distinction between these two questions: "Is
> > the seven-year sentence for Rachel right because it is good
> > for the country?" and "Is the seven-year sentence justice for
> > Rachel?" As the days went by, Rachel became stronger and
> > more centred, more practical and down-to-earth.
> >
> > Asking for this garlic, or that book, she was Rachel again.
> > Even the guards used to enjoy our visits because we would
> > tell jokes.
> >
> > Eventually the military believed we were genuine. On the night
> > of Sunday, October 31, a man from military intelligence said
> > Rachel would be freed the next morning. We could pick her
> > up then and take her away. We went, she signed the standard
> > forms promising good behaviour, and that was that. Which,
> > of all the actions we'd initiated, had turned the key? Maybe it
> > had nothing to do with anything we'd done. We'll never
> > know.
> >
> > I'd have done anything to get Rachel out of prison. Chum,
> > however, needed to believe and understand the Burmese, a
> > huge difference. I don't know if the stories of genocide in
> > 1988 are true; I was happy to leave it labelled "unknowable
> > at this time" if it would help get Rachel out. So what did we
> > come home to? A press that within 10 minutes had decided
> > that Rachel was not a heroine but someone who had given in.
> >
> > Within minutes the Burmese community here were writing
> > press releases saying how traitorous she was. Rachel had
> > achieved more publicity for their cause than they had in
> > decades. Is this the way to treat a brave girl who bore
> > witness to the world, at huge danger to herself? In her words,
> > "I stood up for people who had no voice."
> >