Rangoon :Where the Net is banned
Source : LEE KIM CHEW, Straits Times
Rangoon throbs with life, but it is also a city of fear. Fear of the military, whose agents are said to be everywhere. When a dissident gets caught, his family members suffer too. They risk losing their jobs.
Businessman Sein Lwin says: "If you ask me what I want, it is the freedom to choose our own leaders, and freedom from fear."
The monks are getting restive. Last November, senior abbots in Mandalay wrote letters to Senior General Than Shwe, the country's leader, former strongman General Ne Win, and Nobel peace laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, saying they were "sick at heart" of the political stand-off.
They urged them to "let bygones be bygones, wipe the slate clean and work towards peace". One outspoken abbot in Bagoh told intelligence chief Lt-Gen Khin Nyunt that Burma was in a state of decay.
Such talk angers the military leaders.
Restrictions have been placed on the movements of the offending abbots, according to Mr Tin Oo, the National League for Democracy (NLD) vice-chairman.
Young militant monks in Mandalay have set May 26 as the deadline for the government to start a dialogue with the NLD.
They have threatened to organise strikes and protest marches.

Says Mr Nyunt We, a senior NLD official: "We have offered our olive branch all along. It has not been accepted until today. I don't see any sign from the government that it is prepared to work on a peaceful solution in the next six months."
NLD leaders say they welcome a dialogue with the generals. But what sort of dialogue? Ms Aung San Suu Kyi's talks with them had come to nothing. Government spokesman Lieutenant-Colonel Hla Min says she is "incapable of listening".
Mr Tin Oo says: "They are soldiers. They just give the commands and expect them to be followed." Like when they summarily ordered NLD leaders to appear before a minister to be told a litany of their political sins.
Like when senior NLD members who fought for the country's independence in 1948 were called up and given a reading of Burma's history by officials young enough to be their sons.
"That's their idea of a dialogue," says Mr Tin Oo.
The NLD has withdrawn from the national convention, now in long recess, to rewrite the country's Constitution. It won 392 seats in the 1990 elections, but only 86 NLD MPs were allowed to take part in the convention. The other 700 members were handpicked by the generals.
There is no real discussion on the new Constitution, says Mr Tin Oo. Instead, the MPs are given directives on what to do to enshrine the military's leading role in government.
"There is no real dialogue. If the government is sincere, it should release the political prisoners and allow the NLD to operate freely as a political party. It should convene Parliament," he says.
Burma has little roots in democracy. Except for one period, the country has been governed by the military since 1962.
Mr Tin Oo says: "The people detest the military. They want a civilian government that is elected by the people."
Like it or not, military rule in Burma is a reality. The generals are in charge, but they are not popular. A minister who retired recently told friends that he found life in retirement rather restrictive because of his small social circle. These days, he spends most of his time at home.
broad, the government has been on the defensive because of its poor human-rights record, its harsh treatment of political opponents, and its disavowal of the NLD's right to rule.
One bright spot in an otherwise dismal picture of the government's relations with the outside world is its recent decision to allow the International Committee of the Red Cross to visit the country's notorious prisons.
This has led to an improvement in prison conditions. Political prisoners are allowed to see their family members face to face for the first time in years.
Myanmar joined Asean in 1997 to end its self-imposed isolation. But it remains cocooned in a real sense. Beyond Asean and China, it has few friends.
The regime's mouthpiece, The New Light of Myanmar, accuses the Western countries regularly of meddling in the country's domestic politics. Ms Aung San Suu Kyi is rarely mentioned by name.
In its columns, she is "that so-called party general-secretary woman", "an axe handle", a "traitor" and a "subversive" in the service of foreign powers.
The vilification, a daily fare, passes the people by. Says a Western diplomat: "It's the same thing every day. It's a newspaper of a regime that talks to itself."
The military's heavy hand is evident. Its exhortations are blunt. "Don't smoke", New Light tells its readers. A hoarding in the city's outskirts barks out: "Obey the law".
Giant billboards tell the people to oppose and crush the regime's enemies.
In the old days, the government jammed BBC and VOA broadcasts. Not anymore. Satellite dishes, prohibited officially, pop up on the roofs of those who can afford them.
They get CNN, CNBC, HBO, ESPN, Star Sports, Thai television, Indian channels, NHK -- the works.

Burmese Television offers cultural fare and "songs to uphold national spirit", but people prefer foreign videotapes. Last month, the government torched a load of uncensored tapes, VCDs and objectionable publications which, it says, sully Burma culture.
The Internet is banned, save for the privileged few and foreign missions in Rangoon, because it has become a domain of the dissidents who use it to attack the regime from abroad.
Access to fax and e-mail is also restricted. The law prescribes a seven to 15-year jail term for unlicensed ownership of a computer modem.
But Myanmar people are not starved of news. They listen to foreign broadcasts. They have tea shops everywhere -- and the rumour mills. In the absence of a credible local media, news often spread by word of mouth.
"This is why it can be hard to know the truth in Burma," says tour operator Niang Niang.
Burma's military is so well-entrenched it will take something cataclysmic to force it out of the government.
Some of its opponents hope the regime will be swept out like former Indonesian president Suharto's. But the Burma military has more armed troops now than at any other time. In the past decade, the army has more than doubled to 400,000 men.
The cash-strapped government, perpetually in deficit, spends a third of its budget on defence, nine times the money it spends on health, or twice the expenditure on education.
Burma is among the world's poorest countries with a per capita of US$300 (S$510), but the government rejects any aid that is linked to political reforms. Stories about abject poverty in the rural areas are dismissed by Brigadier General David Abel, an economics minister, as isolated cases and fairy tales. A miracle has happened, he says. The people are living far better that they used to 10 years ago.
If that's the case, why are the people not happy with the government?
"Then they are not contented. But in Myanmar, we have contentment," he says. Will Myanmar accept foreign aid that is linked to political reforms?
"We've closed our doors for 26 years," Brig-Gen Abel says.
That has not done Myanmar a jot of good.
"Yes, it hasn't been good, but it's very good now," he says.
Time is not on Burma's side.
He dismisses this as naive. "Haste makes waste," the minister says. "The world's changing fast, but who's coming out of it in one piece? Who's benefiting from it? Not us."
So what if Singapore opens up its telecommunications industry to benefit from globalisation. He says: "Singapore is trying, but you will be beaten. You open your doors to information technology, all your companies will be bought out. Singapore will not be Singapore's property."