"The Moustache Brothers have been going for over thirty years," Lu Maw says in the dark home-theatre of his family. Posters of their shows and handmade puppets are hanging on the wall, as is a large picture of the Brothers together with democracy activist Aung San Suu Kyi. That's rare because any sign of support for this national hero is dangerous in Burma. Lu Maw is the one doing the talking because he is the only one who speaks English. He has written down all the words that he thinks might be difficult for him to pronounce, because he wants to make sure I understand him correctly. He is eager to tell his story, because the more widely known his group becomes, the more difficult it will be for the military to arrest them.
No Fear
Lu Maw: "On January 4th 1996, on Burma Independence Day, Aung San Suu Kyi, the leader of the National League for Democracy, threw a big party in Yangon. She had hired us to do a show. There was an audience of about two thousand people, including many tourists and some generals. Before the show we had decided we would not shy away from political jokes. We had made up about a thousand, about the bad schools, the forced labour, the military junta that refuses to hand over power to the NLD after their defeat at the polls and so forth. It was dangerous but we weren't afraid of the consequences. We were young and militant. As a precaution half of us stayed at home. Me too, because someone should look after our families if the others would be arrested."
Apprehended
The performance was a huge success and the group returned home to Mandalay without any problem. Lu Maw: "In Yangon the regime didn't dare touch us, because there all eyes were fixed on us." But back in Mandalay it was different. "The military secret service entered the house at midnight. The whole group was apprehended and questioned. They beat us, kept us awake and let us stand for hours on end. I was being interrogated in a room full of military officers. I couldn't see their faces because they shone a bright light into my face. They kept asking me questions like: Who was our leader? Who made up the jokes? Were we a member of any organisation? And if they didn't like my answer they slapped me hard on my ears. They put me on a stool without any back support and which was so high that my feet couldn't reach the floor and made me sit upright for hours. The pain in my back was terrible but if I moved they'd beat me. My brother and cousin were tortured as well. They put out cigarette ends on Par Par Lay's body. They held us for two weeks, then they let everybody go, except Par Par Lay and Lu Saw. They were taken to prison."
Show Trial
What followed was a two- month show trial against the two comedians, which attracted widespread attention. Nobody ever got to see the defendants. They were charged with practising political activities, which is a violation of the ‘law for the prevention of emergency situations'. Aung San Suu Kyi wanted to travel to Mandalay to testify, but the army stopped her by uncoupling her train carriage.
The comedians were sentenced to seven years in prison and were moved to a hard labour camp, 500 kilometres away from Mandalay, an enormous distance for the relatives because the roads in Burma are bad and public transport is slow and expensive. Lu Maw: "Until then only hardened criminals were imprisoned in Kyein Kranka and the conditions there were awful. My brother and my cousin were the only ones to be shackled to a ball and chain and to be forced to hammer rocks. They had to sleep in bamboo huts that offered no shelter against the heavy rain. They became ill with malaria and dysentery but there were no medicines."
After two months both men were transferred to an ‘ordinary' prison thanks to an Amnesty International letter-writing campaign. Here they spent another five-and-a- half-years, of which they spent long periods in isolation. All those years nobody was allowed to visit the prisoners, not even their wives.
Intimidation
"In the meantime I had to provide a living for our families," Lu Maw says. "The group split up and I started to perform at home, which attracted a lot of tourists." On July 15th 2001 the junta finally released the two comedians. Lu Maw: "All of Mandalay had come out to greet them, the streets round our house were packed. The military were present to photograph and video bystanders.
"That evening we performed at home. The house was surrounded by 200 military secret police and on the front row there were five military officers with cameras and videos, seated next to politicians of the NLD. We did what we always do: perform. I looked at the officers while I was telling jokes about the corrupt traffic police and felt proud. After each performance we ask everyone for a donation of 1000 kyat (about US$1.30) and the officers on the front row donated that as well.
They returned the next evening and so it went on for eleven nights. The twelfth day three military men came in to arrest Par Par Lay. He was taken to Colonel Tin Tun. He forced my brother to sign a document saying that we would no longer perform for tourists; otherwise they would arrest all of our family. Then they let him go."
‘The Show Must Go On'
When it was time for the evening show a number of tourists were queuing up at the door. Lu Maw: "What were we to do, cancel the show? Of course not! We just got on stage. But Par Par Lay and Lu Saw have become so well known because of the sentences they served that the colonel did not dare to carry out his threat and arrest us. Instead the government blacklisted us so we can't be hired and take the show on the road.Now we perform in our own house where we receive as many tourists as possible. We introduce them to Burmese culture, but we also make fun of the injustice in this country. Of course that's dangerous. Now they're leaving us alone, but I don't know what will happen tomorrow. But I'm not afraid. I want freedom of speech and democracy. You have to fight for that."