Episode #138: Paint It Black
“Almost everything was propaganda,” Paing comments, reflecting on his childhood growing up in Yangon. He recalls the steady drip of reports from state media covering the visits of senior military officers to hospitals, or major dam projects that were said to be modernizing Myanmar, or generous donations offered by generals at monasteries. But when internet access began to slowly come around, everything changed for him, especially as he started to dig into YouTube and Wikipedia. “You can see different ideas and how Western media is portrayed in our country. And I started to think, well, maybe not everything is true.”
Opening his mind led to Paing also letting go of the Buddhist beliefs he was raised with, or at least the way they have been conveyed in Myanmar. “I think Buddha is still cool, like, his teachings are still okay,” he says. “But it’s an old religion, and I don't think we can relate it anymore in this modern age.” Yet it wasn’t just a concern that Buddhist ideals might be antiquated that troubled Paing. Even more disturbing was how Ma Ba Tha began to weaponize Buddhist principles to promote a misogynic and racist ideology. “They have led in the charge,” he notes of the extremist monastic group, “they lead in these nationalistic ideas, and anti-Islamic propaganda.”
In high school, Paing found an outlet in creative expression, practicing first on the piano and then learning guitar. Absorbing everything in the West from The Smiths to Frank Sinatra, he began writing his own music, and eventually formed a band called The Reasonabilists
Listening to these Western bands also influenced Paing in a kind of post-modernist approach to songwriting. He insists that he is not the master of meaning in the songs he produces. “You can take it as you want, and you can interpret it however you want it. I want my songs to be like that. I might be singing about one thing, but other people might see as another thing.”
Self-identifying as a pessimist by nature, Paing describes his songs as being gloomy and melancholic, which also characterizes his feelings about the recent, turbulent events in his country. While this vibe animates and propels his creative spirit, Paing says that there is no direct correlation between actual recent events that have taken place, and specific song lyrics. “I try to avoid [defining relationships between] things, because I want people to interpret things, instead of me telling them what to think.”
During the transition period, Paing became politically active in his own way. As a Rakhine Buddhist, he recalls his grandfather pointing out how neighboring Rohingya communities had been there for generations, which influenced the outspoken stance Paing took against the military’s violent offensives there. Then, he participated in a Rock The Vote campaign, using his celebrity to encourage Burmese youths to cast their ballots.
When the coup was launched last year, Paing fell deeper into depression, while growing angry with the false optimism and fake news that proliferated in online spaces. At that time, many were insisting that democracy would be restored in just weeks or months, but Paing knew it would take years. “We have been dealing with these dictators all our lives!” he notes. “We have had coups in our history, and nothing ever ends with months, so this is going to be a long process. We have to prepare for the long run.”
Yet that is a long row to hoe. On a very personal level, Paing is still recovering from the trauma of what he witnessed soon after the coup broke. He lives in Hlaing Thayar, and observed firsthand the military’s brutal assault on his neighborhood on March 15, 2021. From his rooftop balcony, he saw protesters trying to protect themselves with handmade slingshots and swords, as the military responded with bullets and grenades. Powerless, he saw people falling from injuries and others being killed outright, a memory which he feels has scarred him for life.
Since then, Paing has been unable to write new music, nor even play his old tracks, feeling that his creative mind has been overwhelmed by the violence and fear. He is hoping to begin his own podcast called “The Burmese Rambler,” where he can begin talking about some of these issues in a public space, countering what he feels has become a highly toxic online space.
Paing has also been disappointed by both the lackluster international support as well as the leadership of the National Unity Government (NUG). With diplomacy failing, he hopes that resistance fighters having better access to weapons can also help. However, as someone who still believes in the principles of non-violence, he is conflicted on this issue, especially as he realizes that a post-Tatmadaw world must include those former soldiers. “You can’t kill everyone that opposes any new idea,” he notes. “You can’t kill everyone who are military supporters. They're always going to be opposing ideas, and you just can’t kill them.” For that reason, he has hoped that a new way forward might emerge, rather than the current paradigm that is limited to seeing things as strictly black or white. “You have to see things on a human level, instead of just using guns.”
Still, as the military regime has tried to further cement its rule, Paing has become dismayed that the Yangon nightlife has seen a resurgence, as some Burmese youths are seeking out diversionary pleasures in lieu of further resistance. Yet he recognizes that “everyone is at their limit. They're ready to explode!”
Paing knows the way forward will not be easy. “Again, I'm a pessimist,” he says, laughing. “So I think everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. But the worst thing that could happen is the military winning. And I have imagined that. Yeah, it could happen… but we might also win. It's a slim chance, but I think we can do it. And things are looking pretty decent right now, I guess.”