Episode #160: U Gambira
“I wanted my country to be a democratic country. I wanted my country to be a free, fair, equal country. A peaceful country. So, I decided to do it.”
These are the words of U Gambira, describing why, as a 29-year old monk in 2007, he helped foment the initial protests that grew into what came to be known as the Saffron Revolution. “I already knew, in the beginning, that I might die. If I were arrested, they would kill me! I already knew that. But I didn’t care. I must do it for the truth. I must do it for the people.”
To better understand what led U Gambira to take on this revolutionary role, one must first look back to his formative years. He was raised by parents in Pauk township who spoke out against the military dictatorship, and grew up in a home where discussions on democracy were the norm. Yet, he also suffered under an abusive father, propelling him to escape home as a teenager into the embrace of the the Tatmadaw. He willingly enlisted as a child soldier. But before long, he grew dissatisfied with army life and ran away yet again, this time to become a novice monk.
U Gambira welcomed monastic life. “I learned the teachings of the Buddha; every day, I meditated and chanted, loving-kindness, mettā, meditation. I liked learning the teachings.” He still chants the Karanīya Mettā Sutta by heart, noting that its meaning is a deep inspiration to him. Summarizing the essence of the sutta, he says, “All the people in the entire universe, may they be free from suffering. May they be free from mental suffering, physical suffering, and may they take care of themselves.”
When his brother wrote asking for assistance at home, U Gambira temporarily disrobed in order to help the family. He was just fifteen at the time. Three years later, he returned to the monastery. At age twenty, he sat for the standard monastic examination and went forth as a full bhikkhu. “I liked the monkhood. The monkhood made a peaceful life.”
But in 2005, another family request changed the course of his life yet again. This time, however, his actions would have national implications. “My older brother was an underground political leader; he requested that I help him. They hid secret documents, books, CDs in my monastery. My brother said, ‘Please, can you become an underground member?’ I said, ‘Yes.’”
As a member of the underground, U Gambira was invited to attend covert trainings in Political Defiance Theory and Gandhian methods of non-violent resistance. He joined workshops in Community Organization, leadership, and Human Rights Theory. At that time, no other monks were part of the underground. “The others were laymen and laywomen. Just one monk, me! And then the leader said, ‘Can you organize the monks and nuns inside Burma?’ And then, ‘Can you found an underground monk and nun organization inside Burma?’ I thought deeply about that. Finally, I said, ‘Yes.’”
With two seasoned dissidents along the border financially supporting his networking efforts, U Gambira carefully reached out to monastics he hoped would be sympathetic. And slowly, a growing underground monastic network was formed, with associated cells of monks and nuns around the country. “All around Burma, I went to the townships, cities, villages, and I organized there. They liked it. So, we began forming small monk groups [and] small nun groups underground.”
In the beginning, these affiliates were given a variety of names. “It was a small group. ‘Young Monks Union Yangon,’ ‘Young Monks Union Mandalay,’ ‘Young Monks Union Pegu.’ And then ‘Sangha Dutta Organization,’ Yangon, Mandalay, Pakokku… it was small.” Members of the monastic underground met regularly; they published and distributed secret journals, magazines, and newspapers. They made stickers such as ‘We Don’t Like Dictatorship,’ posting them on walls, poles, and along roads. They made CDs from the Democratic Voice of Burma about countries where non-violent resistance had been successful.
U Gambira feels strongly that Buddhist monasticism is consistent with unarmed protest. “The teachings of Buddha, non-violent movement, and Political Defiance Theory are very connected! Buddha did not like violence. The non-violent movement, we can do it. It’s like the teachings of Buddha.”
To further support this perspective, he explains the essence of a monk’s training. “According to the teachings of Buddha, a monk should do two things: Gantha-dhura means learning the teachings of the Buddha and vipassanā-dhura means practicing meditation. Just two duties for monks! But also according to the teachings, the monks – not only for monks – for humans, Buddha said, ‘If you are a human being, you must stand on the path of right. You must not stand on the path of wrong.’ So, for the monks, including those involved in the protests, it’s okay, because it is a non-violent movement, and so it accords with the teachings of Buddha.”
U Gambira is also not afraid to reconsider his past views and actions. He describes how the military distributed three anti-Muslim pamphlets in 2001, which he read and became convinced by the materials’ hateful content. In fact, he became so fearful of the rising Muslim population in his country that he took part in burning down a mosque! But when his father later explained to him about the dangers of Islamophobia, U Gambira soon saw the error of his ways. He began to educate himself as to how anti-Muslim sentiment was manufactured and weaponized by the military intelligence under Ne Win, Than Shwe, and Khin Nyunt. And now as a member of the underground, he has supported education initiatives about these fabricated conspiracies pushing anti-Islam sentiments. “Surely, the Islamophobia that is in Burma among monks’ communities, it is from military intelligence. They have made the Islamophobia in the monks’ communities for many years. This is a weapon of the military dictatorship – don’t believe [otherwise].”
All that time, U Gambira was waiting for the right moment make the presence of his anti-military monastic network known. Then one day, the junta removed the country’s fuel subsidies; petrol prices skyrocketed, and natural gas for buses increased by 500 percent! The price of food increased as well, placing an even greater burden on an already impoverished people. U Gambira immediately recognized that this was the spark that he had been waiting for! A peaceful march soon occurred: the military responded by publicly beating the monks who took part. People were shocked.
This public, physical abuse of the revered monastic population—considered almost a national treasure in Burma—triggered an even greater uprising, and soon tens of thousands Burmese were in the streets, capturing international headlines. At least 25 cities were involved; lay people formed a living shield around protesting monastics, fully aware that no one would not be spared the police baton, or worse. “They don’t have the stick; they don’t have the knife. The monks, they didn’t have weapons! Just marching. And then there was the army and the police; they arrested the monks. They hit the monks. They kicked the monks! They beat the monks with their rifles. So, it was a spark for us. We did the patta nikkujjam kamma [overturning the alms bowl] all around Burma and all around the world.”
After internal discussions, the monks decided to formally request the military dictatorship to apologize for the recent beatings. When no apology ensued, they took the rare action of preventing the military from making merit by refusing their alms offerings (patta nikkujjam kamma). The concept of merit is highly valued in Buddhism, and for the Burmese military, it bolsters their image to be seen giving to the monastic order. Therefore, the overturning of alms bowls was not only embarrassing for the generals and soldiers, it also exposed a dichotomy with their professed spiritual beliefs on the one hand, and the atrocities they were perpetrating on the other. Having this disconnect made so obvious to all was especially damaging for a military that justified its existence as largely defending Burmese Buddhism. For U Gambira, it was simple. “Surely, they don’t believe in Buddhism. They believe about [personal] interest and power. They don’t care about Buddhism!”
The Saffron Revolution ended the same tragic way that other democracy movements have ended in Myanmar: through extreme violence on the part of the regime. U Gambira was arrested. He spent the subsequent eight years in and out of prison, where he was regularly subjected to physical, mental, and chemical torture. Describing the latter, he recalls being injected with unknown solutions, which caused him to collapse and induced seizures that lasted up to 45 minutes. Still, he continued to resist the dictatorship in the form of ongoing hunger strikes from his jail cell. Once released—in poor health and with no access to medical care, stripped of papers and a risk to any monastery where he might reside—U Gambira had no choice but to return to lay life.
Although the democratic transition was now underway, and U Gambira was a lay man no longer involved in politics, he still felt at risk. “Even under the NLD-elected [government], I was never safe. Because NLD didn’t have the power. Yes, NLD was elected. The NLD won the election. But NLD did not have power. The power [was still with] the military dictatorship. They hold it; the military dictatorship holds the power all the time! So, NLD didn’t have power even though they were already elected. So, it is not safe for me.” As U Gambira had become involved with an Australian woman after disrobing, he chose to marry her and relocate there, where he lives to this day. (note: while he remains a layman, he still chooses to be known by his monastic name).
As for the latest coup, U Gambira notes, “I wasn’t surprised. I already knew another military coup would come in Burma. I already knew that one day it would happen. I wasn’t surprised… but I liked it. Because this is the end of the military in Burma! All around Burma, the people revolt. Revolution!”
The Saffron Revolution occurred fifteen years ago, and U Gamira’s thoughts on resistance have changed. While the people of Myanmar adopted a non-violent approach for decades, he believes they have little to show for it, and he questions its effectiveness in the current situation. Citing the almost total lack of international backing, he feels it is time to consider other means of resistance. “It is very painful for me. I don’t want the people of Burma to do that, to kill each other, attack each other. I don’t like it. It’s not according to the teachings of the Buddha! I don’t like it…but we have no choice.”