Myanmar's Buddhist-Muslim Crisis by John Clifford Holt

Author:John Clifford Holt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Hawaii Press
Published: 2019-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

Arakan

U Kyaw Hla Aung with John Holt, “The Spokesman”

Classrooms built by Save the Children in the IDP camp, Sittwe

Rohingya children in the IDP camp, Sittwe

I visited Sittwe four times for at least a week or so, and Mrauk U twice for four or five days each time from December 2014 until January 2017. Each time was an adventure of sorts. Sittwe is the capital of Rakhine State (formerly Arakan), once a bustling grand port known as Akyab and the British point of entrée into Burma beginning in 1824. Along with Moulmein (now Mawlamyine) to the southeast in Mon State, Sittwe was the hub of British colonial efforts for a generation before they established themselves in Rangoon (now officially Yangon). Apart from some neglected old military buildings on the outskirts of town, there not much of a sign in Sittwe of its grand colonial days.

Rakhine State is the second least economically developed in Myanmar, making northern Rakhine, the traditional heart of Arakan, including Sittwe, Mrauk U, Kyaukphyu, Maungdaw, and Buthidaung, possibly the poorest region of the country. Southern Rakhine State is healthier in terms of its economy, owing to its more developed agricultural and fishing sectors, its closer proximity to the economic transformations occurring in Yangon, and the recent intensive growth of tourism around Thandwe at Ngapali Beach. The lack of development in northern Arakan is especially evident in terms of its very limited infrastructure, its dusty roads, its mostly ramshackle buildings, and its virtually nonexistent sewage and garbage collection systems (I found it difficult to stay healthy while in Sittwe). Bicycle rickshaws and motorcycle-driven tuk-tuks still dominate traffic. There is a complete lack of modern retail shopping facilities, and so on. The old traditional city market, with its warrens of specialty stalls, still thrives as the center of commerce, while the main street, with several banks and a few hotels, is comprised mostly of modest, family-owned, single-product-oriented, struggling businesses, except for the surprising myriad number of gold shops plying their trade. While there are a few SUVs powering about to kick up dust, the numbers of privately owned sedans and hatchbacks are very limited indeed. In other ways, arriving in Sittwe each time reminded me a bit of being in India decades ago, probably owing to the British colonial style of fencing, road construction, and buildings that can be found similarly in India and in Sri Lanka. The vegetation, especially north of Sittwe, is also decidedly more like Bengal than the Irrawaddy delta. The sense of isolation is palpable here, and the effects of fifty years of imposed isolation from the outside world is much more obvious than in Yangon and Mandalay, where change since 2010 has been borderline phenomenal, certainly giving rise to great generational changes. This is not at all the case here in Sittwe. For an American like me, even one with extensive living experience in South, Southeast, and East Asia, entering Sittwe is a bit like entering into the other side of contemporary otherness, a world that feels left behind.

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