Episode #144: A Generational Change
In October 2007, Bobo witnessed a truly horrific event: uniformed soldiers beating Buddhist monks on the streets of Yangon in broad daylight. That experience radically changed the trajectory of his life.
“When I saw the military crackdown on the monks, brutally, it made me really, really angry,” he remembers. It compelled him to do something—anything—to stand up to these blatant human rights violations. The question was, how. “Then, of course, I didn't know what is an activist! I didn't know what are human rights or democracy. Also even politics, I didn't know anything. But when I when I saw that crackdown, and when I saw so many monks and civilians killed by the military, it pushed me to be involved.”
Bobo’s family wanted him to pursue an education and find a livelihood that would provide him stability and security. However, after witnessing that violence in the street, there was no doubt in his mind that any success or security he could accrue on an individual level could be snatched away without warning as long as the corrupt and cruel military regime remained in charge. “If I cannot overturn them, if I cannot make the system change, my life will be nothing, and my dream will not be fulfilled. But if the system changes, if we get the democracy, peoples’ lives will be better. So with that decision, and with that mindset, when I saw the Saffron Revolution, it was like, ‘Oh, my God, this is really what I need to do!’”
But even as Bobo realized that was his calling, he was still living in a society that was far from free, and it was not at all clear how he should proceed. He sought out human rights organizations and democracy activists to find out what steps he should take on the road to political activism; he befriended reformers from the ’88 Generation and learned from their experience, and made contact with international organizations.
But the key turning point in his life was his decision to join Generation Wave, an underground collective formed following the uprising in 2007 to push for democracy and human rights and advocate for government reforms. But in those years, Generation Wave had no legal standing to operate, and so had to carry out all their activities in secret, with severe consequences if they were ever caught. Bobo participated in a number of underground activities to educate the population on the military regime’s crimes, in the hope of cultivating a widespread political consciousness that would build momentum and culminate in a grassroots push for democracy. The work was dangerous and has put Bobo in the crosshairs since he was a teenager, necessitating prolonged stays at safe houses, urgent relocations, and near escapes from arrest. He has also lost many friends in the process, to arrest, exile, and even death. These dangers were just something he had to learn to live with.
One of the founders of Generation Wave was former hip hop star, Zayar Thaw, who was arrested in 2008. After his release several years later, he became an elected MP from the NLD, and his storied career was an inspiration to many. Tragically, as detailed in a recent podcast conversation, Zayar Thaw was executed last year by the military regime after a brief show trial, an act that was widely condemned not only in the West, but even by nations with their own histories of civil rights abuses like China and Cambodia. “We lot one of our comrades,” Bobo recalls sadly. “We lost one of our founders, so it is a big loss for us. We lost one of our brothers, and from the perspective of the movement, we lost a fallen hero for the country.” Yet even though Tatmadaw killed the person, Bobo affirms the words of Zayar Thaw’s widow, Ma Thazin, that they can never kill the values he dedicated his life to.
The year 2010 heralded the first tentative steps towards a quasi-democracy in Myanmar. Bobo and his colleagues at Generation Wave were considering whether they could finally operate above ground, which would be a kind of litmus test for the truth of the public proclamations of change issuing from Thein Sein’s administration. If Generation Wave went public in their advocacy efforts but were harassed or arrested as a result, it would alert the international community that the Thein Sein administration’s “opening” was a mirage. Formally registering the organization and operating in the open allowed them to greatly increase their visibility and reach and, following NLD victories in 2012 and 2015, they further expanded the scope of their operations. While noting that these years were far from perfect in many respects, with the Rohingya crisis being the most egregious example, Bobo says that Generation Wave enjoyed more freedom to operate than ever.
Bobo’s perspective on the somewhat circumscribed freedoms granted under the NLD period is that it reveals the difference between legislators and activists. “Governments are always acting like a government, and activists are acting like activists. The rules are different,” he notes. “So from the role of Generation Wave activists, we always say what we want, and we always say what it should be for the country and also for the people. Sometimes we criticized a lot to the NLD government, especially on the issues of human rights.” So even though the NLD years presented a much safer operating environment than the military regime and Generation Wave could function legally and above ground, the risk of arrest was never far away. “ There are always risks for activists in this country,” he adds sadly.
In any case, as of the morning of February 1st, 2021, Generation Wave immediately went underground yet again. While no stranger to combatting the Tatmadaw’s excesses, and even though he had heard the rumors in the weeks prior that a coup could happen, the shock of hearing the news still stands out. “I mean, in that moment, honestly, I became speechless. I became brainless for some minutes.”
Bobo and his Generation Wave colleagues kicked into high gear, and in coordination with other groups, began to mobilize the populace into action with massive nonviolent protests and strikes in key sectors. As terribly awful as this new development was, Bobo found a silver lining, in that the broad, popular engagement he had been trying to achieve for so long was now galvanized; indeed, he had never seen such widespread commitment. Moreover, Bobo’s fifteen years of activism placed him in a critical position to help channel this massive, developing movement.
As the nonviolent protests continued, the military responded first with rubber bullets and tear gas, but then began using live munitions. This response left Generation Wave at another critical juncture. With large-scale protests and strikes no longer possible, they organized flash mobs throughout the country, but also had to find a new way forward. Being an organization committed to nonviolent resistance, which Bobo calls a “political defiance method,” they have had to be creative in their approaches. (Due to safety concerns, Bobo is unwilling to describe their current activities.)
Yet while Generation Wave has been steadfastly committed to peaceful forms of opposition, Bobo readily admits the necessity of the PDFs and EROs. “[The military’s] brutality is, well, you can’t imagine, so that's why it drives people to choose the armed resistance,” he says. “Of course, we don't want to choose to the armed resistance, but we have no choice, or then this [oppression] will continue.” Bobo concurs with the views of many other Burmese activists who have spoken on our podcast that each part of the movement is equally needed in order to counter the Tatmadaw: nonviolent action, armed resistance, the Civil Disobedience Movement, sanctions from the West, recognition of the NUG, etc. “Different groups may have their different approaches or objectives, but the only common vision is to overthrow the military regime.” Bobo explains that because Generation Wave has years of experience in peaceful political defiance strategies, they will continue in that direction, it’s what they do best— just as those other parts of the movement are operating within their own particular areas of strength.
Now, two years into the revolution, Bobo acknowledges the challenge of inspiring a population that has already suffered so much—and made such huge sacrifices—to keep working towards the shared goal of overcoming the military and building a federal democracy. With widespread depression and despair taking root, Bobo and his team are constantly working on finding a balance in their messaging that provides motivation and encouragement on the one hand, without veering towards false optimism on the other.
Another critical task before them is the question of finding and empowering a new generation of leaders. This should include not only Bamar people but also ethnic voices as well. And equally imperative is facilitating a conversation that binds these different groups and continues to lead towards a unified vision, as opposed to each ethnicity seeking out their own path, which would only make it easier for the Tatmadaw to continue their divide and conquer strategy. “The very important thing these days is to understand to each other, rather than by using your majority ethnic chauvinistic mindset. You cannot negotiate or lead the movement if you have this kind of chauvinistic mindset.” While Bobo certainly acknowledges the passion and dedication of previous democratic leaders, he feels that, to their detriment, they consistently advocated for their own constituencies rather than uniting in a vision of a federal democratic state that is fair and equitable for all. “I will say we have to fight together, and now we should get rid of what our self-ego is telling us.”
Bobo not only sees the need for support across different ethnic and religious communities in Myanmar, but also zooms out to take in the global situation. “If you want to see democracy in the world, we need to put all our hands on it, rather than putting your own agenda to top… You can use your power, you can use your liberty, you can use your freedom,” he says, speaking to how foreign allies can stand by the democracy movement in Myanmar. “We appreciate those who are supporting us, but at the same time, we also want to do it quickly! You cannot take time, because many people are dying here.”
For the foreseeable future, Bobo is doing all he can at a personal level to play this role himself, pushing aside any thought of the toll it’s taking. “I don't want to be there,” he admits wearily. “I want to live very peacefully, and to have fun with friends and with my family. I want a normal life like other people, of course. But now all my energy and all my commitment are for the revolution and for the movement.”