[Congressional Record Volume 167, Number 38 (Monday, March 1, 2021)]
[Senate]
[Pages S909-S911]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
FOREIGN POLICY
Mr. McCONNELL. Now, on one final matter, last weekend brought
disconcerting headlines for the supporters of freedom and democracy in
Asia. In Burma the military junta's month-long coup turned bloody.
Eighteen protesters have been murdered and at least a thousand civilian
officials have been imprisoned on farcical grounds.
In Hong Kong, China's puppet regime arrested 47 democracy advocates,
including some who helped draw millions to the streets in peaceful
protests in 2019, and are now holding them without bail.
Unfortunately, in both places, this sort of repression has become a
familiar part of life, and it could be a dark preview of developments
elsewhere if the free world does not act.
Even as Burma's civilian government made history in 2015, the
military made clear it would keep using cronyism and constitutional
manipulation to obstruct real popular control. In last year's election,
the people overwhelmingly demanded true democracy and economic
transparency, but that also raised the risk for those working publicly
to make permanent reforms.
The military's detention spree has hit Burma's civilian leaders,
including people like Mya Aye, a longtime Muslim pro-democracy leader.
It has also swept up some of the brightest economic reformers working
to fight corruption and grow prosperity--brave men like Bo Bo Nge, who
spent years locked away in Burma's Insein prison in the 1980s and
1990s, built a successful life abroad, and returned to help the
civilian government craft economic reforms.
Madam President, I ask unanimous consent that this Washington Post
article detailing Bo Bo Nge's story be printed in the Record.
There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
[From the Washington Post, March 1, 2021]
An American Success Story Is Lost in Myanmar's Coup
(By Shibani Mahtani)
Hong Kong.--Bo Bo Nge's path typified that of his
generation's brightest and bravest: Jailed as a student for
protesting Myanmar's military regime in 1988, he spent years
learning English from dictionary pages
[[Page S910]]
smuggled into his Yangon cell. After his release and
continued persecution, he fled to the United States.
He made a new life, rising from dishwasher to an economist
with a six-figure salary. But his heart never left Myanmar,
and armed with a Ph.D., he returned home as a democratic
transition took hold, leading to his appointment in 2017 as
deputy governor of the central bank--where he served
alongside others who fought for democracy three decades
earlier.
Just after dawn on Feb. 1, five soldiers appeared at Bo Bo
Nge's home in Myanmar's capital, Naypyidaw, and demanded he
come with them, according to his wife. She and his friends
have not heard from him since.
Bo Bo Nge's fate, along with that of other intellectuals,
lawyers and young leaders detained in the military coup that
deposed Aung San Suu Kyi's civilian government, once again
epitomizes dashed hopes for a better future in Myanmar. These
reformers and technocrats, whose skills and experience helped
salvage the country's antiquated financial system in recent
years, are now silenced and subject to the whims of
isolationist generals.
In Myanmar coup, grievance and ambition drove military
chiefs power grab.
At the same time, Myanmar's security forces are cracking
down on protesters, killing 18 on Sunday. More than 1,130
people, including Bo Bo Nge, have been arrested since the
coup.
His predicament is made more urgent by his health issues
and the fragile state of Myanmar's economy, already battered
by the coronavirus pandemic. Banks have closed their doors as
hundreds of thousands of people, including tellers, resist
the coup by refusing to go to work, pushing the economic
system closer to collapse. The few military-linked banks that
remain open have restricted customer numbers, while the
central bank is limiting withdrawals across financial
institutions, raising fears of a cash shortage.
``When someone like Bo Bo arrived back in Myanmar, it was
like a bottle of water to a person in the desert,'' said Ba
Win, a former provost of Bard College at Simon's Rock, who
helped Bo Bo Nge move to the United States. Bo Bo Nge, he
added, ``had the intellectual training and discipline to look
at economic issues in a way that transcended parochial
political interests.''
In an interview with Frontier magazine, Win Thaw, the
military's chosen replacement for Bo Bo Nge, accused
protesters and those participating in the civil disobedience
movement of ``destroying their own country's economy.''
``Policies differ from one government to another, but they
should have a common goal, which is to develop the country
and not trouble the people,'' he said. The military
government, he added, is ``doing their best.''
Bo Bo Nge's first stint in detention was at Yangon's lnsein
prison, where he served more than four years for
participating in the 1988 pro-democracy uprising, which the
military regime brutally crushed. The sprawling complex is
one of the city's most visible landmarks, where behind
towering metal gates prisoners were subjected to torture and
other inhumane treatment. There, Bo Bo Nge's health began to
deteriorate, and his teeth rotted from neglect, friends and
family say.
Locked up alongside academics and intellectuals, he was
exposed to lofty conversations about history, economics and
philosophy. He and his fellow prisoners would bury smuggled
English dictionary pages under the muddy floors of their
cells, studying them furiously when guards were not around.
By the time he was released in 1993, Bo Bo Nge was fluent,
and after a stint exporting taro stems harvested from
Myanmar's lnle Lake to South Korea, he moved to America's
lush, mountainous Berkshires, where he attended community
college.
``He was immediately helpful, kind and so good-natured,''
said Marion Lathrop, 84, who hosted Bo Bo Nge with her
husband, Don, then a professor at Berkshire Community
College. ``It was kind of hard to grasp the fact that someone
with that nature could have gone through that kind of
ordeal.''
Immediately, friends said, Bo Bo Nge got down to business,
acquiring a driver's license and a car to drive between his
odd jobs and college. In 2001, two years after his arrival,
he won a scholarship to Bard College, and after graduation,
he pursued a master's degree in economics at Johns Hopkins
University.
Through those years, he maintained a long-distance love
with his future wife, Hnin Wai Lwin, better known by her
nickname Me Kyi, whom he met on lnle Lake at her shop where
she sold trinkets under a famed pagoda. Their international
calls were a source of entertainment for her village--where
residents could listen in on a central broadcast as phones
were scarce--before she joined him in Massachusetts seven
years after his departure, according to several friends.
His first job was at a subsidiary of the American Institute
of Economic Research, where he eventually earned six
figures--epitomizing the American immigrant success story.
Colleagues were ``immediately struck by his brilliance,''
said Seth Hoffman, now vice president of that subsidiary,
American Investment Services.
``Given his particular skill set, Bo Bo could have gone on,
if he was reoriented in a different direction, to be on a
bond desk in a major investment bank,'' Hoffman said. ``He
could have had a more comfortable life.''
But Bo Bo Nge, heartened by a hopeful yet uncertain
military-led transition to democracy that began in 2010,
wanted to do ``something more than make money,'' according to
Ba Win. Inspired by a conversation the two had about a lack
of skilled leaders in Myanmar--the military shuttered its
best universities after the 1988 uprising and reopened them
only in 2014--Bo Bo Nge pursued a doctorate at the School of
Oriental and African Studies in London, where Suu Kyi was a
research student in the 1980s.
When he went back to join the government as deputy central
bank governor in 2017, the military had ceded some control to
a civilian leadership and the economy was making great
strides. Poverty had been halved from a decade prior, growth
was picking up, and reformists were driving policy changes,
keeping down inflation and modernizing the central bank. In
the recent coup, several of Suu Kyi's leading economic
advisers were detained, including Australian economist Sean
Turnell, and Min Ye Paing Hein, a former World Bank economist
who was the deputy industry minister. None have been heard
from since they were taken by authorities.
As the military tightens its hold on power and the prospect
of reconciliation grows dim, the European Union and other
Western countries are readying sanctions against Myanmar's
generals and their economic interests, following moves by the
United States.
A general strike on Feb. 22, meanwhile, added momentum to
Myanmar's civil disobedience movement. Many taking part in
the resistance say sacrificing the economy is their only way
to bring down the junta and achieve democracy.
Zaw Zaw, a 41-year-old garment factory owner in Yangon,
said he sold an apartment and his car to support those who
are forgoing a paycheck to participate in acts of
disobedience against military rule. Soon he will run out of
things to sell, he admits, but says he will do anything to
keep the resistance afloat.
``The country's economy was already in danger'' before the
coup, he said. ``Whether or not the generals hold an election
in a year as promised, the economy will collapse anyway. So
it is worthwhile to sacrifice everything to bring them
down.''
Since her husband was taken on Feb. 1, Hnin Wai Lwin has
had trouble sleeping and has lost her appetite. Memories of
basic facts--when they arrived in the United States, her
husband's age--are fading or have become confused. She has
moved back to Shan state up north, away from the military-run
capital, Naypyidaw, for her safety and that of their 5-year
old son, who she said is always asking for his father, unable
to comprehend what has happened.
She cannot stop thinking about the health of her husband,
who is in his 50s, and whether he has run out of the limited
supply of medicines she packed in a bag before he left with
the soldiers. In an interview, she said Bo Bo Nge was
suffering from gastrointestinal disease and hypertension, for
which he needs medical treatment.
``I am also not in good health, and we are not together,''
she said. ``I am very sorry. We should be together, whatever
the circumstance.''
Kyaw Ye Lynn in Yangon contributed to this report.
Mr. McCONNELL. Madam President, even foreign nationals have been
subjected to unjustified detention. The world is closely watching the
case of Sean Turnell, an Australian scholar who has spent years helping
Burma's civilian leaders unlock its economic potential.
The administration has been right to condemn the junta and to consult
with Congress on an appropriate response. But as Burma's protesters
begin to pay the ultimate price for speaking out, the United States
must make it clear that military and police officials will face
crippling costs of their own. This should include the military-owned
holding companies, which have deep roots in Burma's economy. It is time
to lead an international effort to support the people of Burma.
It is also time to strengthen our calls for an international response
to China's shameless human rights abuses, beginning with Hong Kong.
Another round of arrests in the last several days has sent a new wave
of student activists to prison with no due process. They join veteran
pro-democracy performers like my friends Martin Lee and Jimmy Lai, who
were already rounded up.
The United States cannot outsource our moral authority in championing
democracy around the world. When we stay silent, the voice of the
international community is channeled through forums where the most
notorious human rights abusers preside over their own trials.
The ironically named U.N. Human Rights Council boasts a membership
including such paragons of virtue as the Russian Federation, which has
begun sending residents to prison for non-state-sanctioned religious
beliefs; and Venezuela, whose rap sheet the
[[Page S911]]
State Department spells out as ``arbitrary detention,'' ``forced
disappearances,'' and ``extrajudicial killings''; and Cuba, whose
government exports repressive tools to countries like Venezuela; and,
of course, the People's Republic of China itself, where the hypocrisy
stretches from repression in Hong Kong to internment and torture of the
Uighur people in Xinjiang.
The Biden administration has advertised a foreign policy focused on
human rights and democracy and quite publicly announced its intention
to rejoin the U.N. Human Rights Council. Fine, let Burma and Hong Kong
and Xinjiang and Belarus be tests of this administration's approach to
the council. But the White House must not put much trust into this
corrupted institution. We should be uniting like-minded democracies
around actions that the United Nations panels are either unwilling or
unable to take. With respect to Hong Kong, the prior administration
took several concrete steps, from closing PRC investment loopholes in
Hong Kong to opposing targeted sanctions.
Now is the time for the Biden administration to show its resolve as
it confronts serious tests of its own.
I suggest the absence of a quorum.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
The senior assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
Mr. TUBERVILLE. Madam President, I ask unanimous consent that the
order for the quorum call be rescinded.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
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