Burma's Neroes fiddle while the people die

Visiting Research Fellow, Oxford University and Free Burma Coalition Maung Zarni on how, in the wake

You have got to love these guys who run Burma – renamed Myanmar.

Nero must have been one of their main sources of kingly inspirations. The flames of the ancient Rome didn’t bother the fabled Nero who kept on fiddling
his violin.

Get this.

The country is going through the aftermath of the greatest national catastrophe in its living memory – with an estimated 100,000 dead and 1.5 million
shelterless and literally on the verge of famine. Yet the generals’ most immediate concern is to hold the Referendum through which the military rule –
already in its 46th year – is once again to be reconfigured, legalized and legitimated.

As if this pathological reasoning is not twisted enough, they apparently ordered their busiest Embassy abroad in Bangkok to take a 3-day weekend holiday, on the convenient occasion of the Thai’s royal ploughing ceremony.

While the neighboring Thai rulers contribute, as a matter of ritual, to the production of the people’s staple , “Myanmarese” rulers act as if they have
little or no concerns beyond photo ops on the State-run TV, of generals handing out a few hundred meals in Styrofoam packages - about the most elemental
needs of the disaster-stricken people.

Over one million victims who desperately need food and clean water in dire conditions are still waiting desperately for relief efforts. For the generals
are insisting – characteristically – that the international community bring and drop off food, money, relief equipment and medical supplies and then leave, a
condition no aid donor is prepared to accept given the regime’s half-century old record of diverting all revenues and resources at its disposal for consolidating
its stranglehold on the population.

Scores of disaster relief workers from various UN agencies, as well as other international NGOs have no choice but to sit on their visa applications for 4
more days, desperate to get in and help distribute high power biscuits and other survival items. Even if there were enough rice to go around among Burmese
victims and survivors – which is not the case – there is no clean water to cook rice, hence biscuits for the rice-eating Burmese.

Here is a perfect living example of a population that needs “humanitarian intervention” – in whatever form it may take. The unceasing Burmese tales of
unimaginable tragedy and misery at the hands of the latter-day Neroes have moved Dr Bernard Kouchner, co-founder of the Doctors Without Borders and now France’s Foreign Minister, to publicly make the case for invoking ‘Responsibility to Protect or R2P.”

R2P is the new international doctrine introduced at the UN in 2001, which uses as its starting point ‘non-intervention amongst sovereign states’. It does not
require as prerequisite for intervention that a domestic situation threatens stability, peace and order internationally or regionally, nor is it confined to
armed conflicts, genocides and mass murders. (See http://www.iciss.ca/report-en.asp )

When a particular state, or those who have usurped power, as in the case of Burma/Myanmar - fail to demonstrably protect, prevent or otherwise address the
massive sufferings of a large population it becomes incumbent upon other states (and national communities) to impose appropriate humanistic measures, militarily if necessary and as a last resort, on a sovereign country.

Over the past week since the cyclone Nargis ripped up hundreds of communities and destroyed hundreds of thousands of human lives, the unmistakably callousness of the Myanmarese senior leadership is for all to see. Like Emperor Nero of ancient Rome, they have, in effect, chosen to be oblivious to the people in distress and the country in flames. Indeed by all objective criteria, the generals have categorically failed to uphold their obligations to the Burmese
people, as well as their membership responsibility to the United Nations to protect the citizens.

It is one thing that authoritarian regimes the world over typically mow down dissidents and rebels on the streets. But it is altogether a different order
of revulsion that the Myanmarese regime’s failure to put the lives and well-being of 1.5 million shelter-less cyclone victims first - the newly born,
the sick and the elderly - rendering them foodless, waterless and without safety and raising the risk of a major outbreak of disease through willful negligence.

Even the ‘evil’ Russia under Putin has the sensibility to waive visas for the British football fans bound for St Petersburg accepting football tickets in lieu
of visa stamps. Yet all international appeals from both hostile and friendly nations have fallen on the deaf ears of the evil rulers of Burma/Myanmar, who
refuse to honour the aid workers’ UN-issued passports.

Indeed, the “Myanmarese” Neroes are fiddling away their Constitutional tune preparing for Saturday’s Referendum , while the country’s 1.5 million victims
wither away with no drinking water or food aid.

The question before the outside world is:

Will those key players in the international community discharge their “responsibility to react” in the face of such evil?

This February, UK Foreign Secretary David Miliband used the occasion of the ‘Aung San Suu Kyi Lecture’ at St Hugh’s College, Oxford to articulate Britain’s
new foreign policy, calling it the ‘Democracy Imperative’. What better opportunity than the unfolding Burmese atrocities for him to put his money where
his mouth is. The “Humanitarian Imperative” based on Responsibility to Protect’ must come first.

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The French millennials marching behind Marine Le Pen

A Front National rally attracts former socialists with manicured beards, and a lesbian couple. 

“In 85 days, Marine will be President of the French Republic!” The 150-strong crowd cheered at the sound of the words. On stage, the speaker, the vice-president of the far-right Front National (FN), Florian Philippot, continued: “We will be told that it’s the apocalypse, by the same banks, media, politicians, who were telling the British that Brexit would be an immediate catastrophe.

"Well, they voted, and it’s not! The British are much better off than we are!” The applause grew louder and louder. 

I was in the medieval city of Metz, in a municipal hall near the banks of the Moselle River, a tributary of the Rhine from which the region takes its name. The German border lies 49km east; Luxembourg City is less than an hour’s drive away. This is the "Country of the Three Borders", equidistant from Strasbourg and Frankfurt, and French, German and French again after various wars. Yet for all that local history is deeply rooted in the wider European history, votes for the Front National rank among the highest nationally, and continue to rise at every poll. 

In rural Moselle, “Marine”, as the Front National leader Marine Le Pen is known, has an envoy. In 2014, the well-spoken, elite-educated Philippot, 35, ran for mayor in Forbach, a former miner’s town near the border. He lost to the Socialist candidate but has visited regularly since. Enough for the locals to call him “Florian".

I grew up in a small town, Saint-Avold, halfway between Metz and Forbach. When my grandfather was working in the then-prosperous coal mines, the Moselle region attracted many foreign workers. Many of my fellow schoolmates bore Italian and Polish surnames. But the last mine closed in 2004, and now, some of the immigrants’ grandchildren are voting for the National Front.

Returning, I can't help but wonder: How did my generation, born with the Maastricht treaty, end up turning to the Eurosceptic, hard right FN?

“We’ve seen what the other political parties do – it’s always the same. We must try something else," said Candice Bertrand, 23, She might not be part of the group asking Philippot for selfies, but she had voted FN at every election, and her family agreed. “My mum was a Communist, then voted for [Nicolas] Sarkozy, and now she votes FN. She’s come a long way.”  The way, it seemed, was political distrust.

Minutes earlier, Philippot had pleaded with the audience to talk to their relatives and neighbours. Bertrand had brought her girlfriend, Lola, whom she was trying to convince to vote FN.  Lola wouldn’t give her surname – her strongly left-wing family would “certainly not” like to know she was there. She herself had never voted.

This infuriated Bertrand. “Women have fought for the right to vote!” she declared. Daily chats with Bertrand and her family had warmed up Lola to voting Le Pen in the first round, although not yet in the second. “I’m scared of a major change,” she confided, looking lost. “It’s a bit too extreme.” Both were too young to remember 2002, when a presidential victory for the then-Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, was only a few percentage points away.

Since then, under the leadership of his daughter, Marine, the FN has broken every record. But in this region, the FN’s success isn’t new. In 2002, when liberal France was shocked to see Le Pen reach the second round of the presidential election, the FN was already sailing in Moselle. Le Pen grabbed 23.7 per cent of the Moselle vote in the first round and 21.9 per cent in the second, compared to 16.9 per cent and 17.8 per cent nationally. 

The far-right vote in Moselle remained higher than the national average before skyrocketing in 2012. By then, the younger, softer-looking Marine had taken over the party. In that year, the FN won an astonishing 24.7 per cent of the Moselle vote, and 17.8 per cent nationwide.

For some people of my generation, the FN has already provided opportunities. With his manicured beard and chic suit, Emilien Noé still looks like the Young Socialist he was between 16 and 18 years old. But looks can be deceiving. “I have been disgusted by the internal politics at the Socialist Party, the lack of respect for the low-ranked campaigners," he told me. So instead, he stood as the FN’s youngest national candidate to become mayor in his village, Gosselming, in 2014. “I entered directly into action," he said. (He lost). Now, at just 21, Noé is the FN’s youth coordinator for Eastern France.

Metz, Creative Commons licence credit Morgaine

Next to him stood Kevin Pfeiffer, 27. He told me he used to believe in the Socialist ideal, too - in 2007, as a 17-year-old, he backed Ségolène Royal against Sarkozy. But he is now a FN local councillor and acts as the party's general co-ordinator in the region. Both Noé and Pfeiffer radiated a quiet self-confidence, the sort that such swift rises induces. They shared a deep respect for the young-achiever-in-chief: Philippot. “We’re young and we know we can have perspectives in this party without being a graduate of l’ENA,” said another activist, Olivier Musci, 24. (The elite school Ecole Nationale d’Administration, or ENA, is considered something of a mandatory finishing school for politicians. It counts Francois Hollande and Jacques Chirac among its alumni. Ironically, Philippot is one, too.)

“Florian” likes to say that the FN scores the highest among the young. “Today’s youth have not grown up in a left-right divide”, he told me when I asked why. “The big topics, for them, were Maastricht, 9/11, the Chinese competition, and now Brexit. They have grown up in a political world structured around two poles: globalism versus patriotism.” Notably, half his speech was dedicated to ridiculing the FN's most probably rival, the maverick centrist Emmanuel Macron. “It is a time of the nations. Macron is the opposite of that," Philippot declared. 

At the rally, the blue, red and white flame, the FN’s historic logo, was nowhere to be seen. Even the words “Front National” had deserted the posters, which were instead plastered with “in the name of the people” slogans beneath Marine’s name and large smile. But everyone wears a blue rose at the buttonhole. “It’s the synthesis between the left’s rose and the right’s blue colour”, Pfeiffer said. “The symbol of the impossible becoming possible.” So, neither left nor right? I ask, echoing Macron’s campaign appeal. “Or both left and right”, Pfeiffer answered with a grin.

This nationwide rebranding follows years of efforts to polish the party’s jackass image, forged by decades of xenophobic, racist and anti-Semitic declarations by Le Pen Sr. His daughter evicted him from the party in 2015.

Still, Le Pen’s main pledges revolve around the same issue her father obsessed over - immigration. The resources spent on "dealing with migrants" will, Le Pen promises, be redirected to address the concerns of "the French people". Unemployment, which has been hovering at 10 per cent for years, is very much one of them. Moselle's damaged job market is a booster for the FN - between 10 and 12 per cent of young people are unemployed.

Yet the two phenomena cannot always rationally be linked. The female FN supporters I met candidly admitted they drove from France to Luxembourg every day for work and, like many locals, often went shopping in Germany. Yet they hoped to see the candidate of “Frexit” enter the Elysee palace in May. “We've never had problems to work in Luxembourg. Why would that change?” asked Bertrand. (Le Pen's “144 campaign pledges” promise frontier workers “special measures” to cross the border once out of the Schengen area, which sounds very much like the concept of the Schengen area itself.)

Grégoire Laloux, 21, studied history at the University of Metz. He didn't believe in the European Union. “Countries have their own interests. There are people, but no European people,” he said. “Marine is different because she defends patriotism, sovereignty, French greatness and French history.” He compared Le Pen to Richelieu, the cardinal who made Louis XIV's absolute monarchy possible:  “She, too, wants to build a modern state.”

French populists are quick to link the country's current problems to immigration, and these FN supporters were no exception. “With 7m poor and unemployed, we can't accept all the world's misery,” Olivier Musci, 24, a grandchild of Polish and Italian immigrants, told me. “Those we welcome must serve the country and be proud to be here.”

Lola echoed this call for more assimilation. “At our shopping centre, everyone speaks Arabic now," she said. "People have spat on us, thrown pebbles at us because we're lesbians. But I'm in my country and I have the right to do what I want.” When I asked if the people who attacked them were migrants, she was not so sure. “Let's say, they weren't white.”

Trump promised to “Make America Great Again”. To where would Le Pen's France return? Would it be sovereign again? White again? French again? Ruled by absolutism again? She has blurred enough lines to seduce voters her father never could – the young, the gay, the left-wingers. At the end of his speech, under the rebranded banners, Philippot invited the audience to sing La Marseillaise with him. And in one voice they did: “To arms citizens! Form your battalions! March, march, let impure blood, water our furrows...” The song is the same as the one I knew growing up. But it seemed to me, this time, a more sinister tune.